[PF] Children of the Snow IC II

[Prehysterical]

"I would say that I'm surprised that the Volsagi patrols haven't found you yet, but then I've seen trolls picking some of their weaponthanes our of their teeth.

I took the people down south and made peace with the orc bandits. My Chieftain, there is so much going on that we never could have guessed!

Now that Friedhelm isn't here... I'll tell you this to make this easier. Alec the Old is alive, beyond the mountains to the south. As for their daughter... there has been no sign of her. As far as I know, I am Himmiskan's last living Champion. I found the bodies of Thordis, Mirka, and Barr while poking around the tula for survivors. My father is gone." Yarl was much calmer about Baldur's death now that he'd had a chance to grieve.

"Filip is alive, as are Marcivelle, Iaar, Ragsk, Thea, and Talin, among several others. Still not nearly enough...

There is so much more to tell, but I'd rather have everyone in one place before I explain. We need to speak with Chief Kilgore and get those children out of the woods.

Who is this friend that braves the wrath of the Volsagi to honor kinship?"

[RandomWombat]

"That is... to be truthful, it is far more than I'd ever hoped. There's been so little hope since it happened," shaking his head, Solomon looks around the northern hilly plains. The cold has bitten off much of the plantlife, and the soil in many places is left barren and empty. Only the toughest of mountain plants can withstand these conditions. Above them the moon is on a downward course, and dawn will be approaching in a few hours. "It doesn't help that things are so bleak. We're very close to the winter, and this chill pierces through any blanket or hide we could hope to use."

"My friend is a yeti. Eda, one of the clan's yeti elders, was his mother. He chose not to live in the tula because he preferred the quiet out here, but he grew up among our clan. I'm sure our presence is grating on him and I don't want to overstay our welcome. If the Golangi Chief can help us I would be in his debt."

[Prehysterical]

As badly as we have suffered, it would seem that the yeti suffer more still. "How have you been avoiding the trolls? They've been rampaging down from the north for a while, now."

[RandomWombat]

"They have? This was the first we encountered any since venturing into the mountains. I never thought about it, but it is strange. And from the looks of it they had worgs with them?" he eyes the beast across Yarl's shoulders.

[Prehysterical]

"They've gone father south than the Golangi tula by now, sometimes in groups of two or three. Though this is the first time that we've seen them with forged weapons or worgs in tow.

As if the plague up north and the strix to the south weren't bad enough..." Yarl trailed off as he realized that Solomon would have no idea what he was talking about. "Anyway, like I said, there's a lot to tell, but frightfully few answers. It's is as if every hidden menace is suddenly sprung on us all at once."

[RandomWombat]

"An unfortunate truth. You will need to tell me more once we have a moment to sit," Chief Solomon is visibly unnerved by the news of a plague in particular. There is something to be said for foes you cannot fight with a sword alone.

The march back to the Golangi tula is slower, weight down by their carts and wagon. By the time they arrive in the late morning, Chief Solomon looks quite exhausted by the trek. The sun has risen up in the sky and clouds are gathering on the western horizon. Yarl's survival training tells him the clouds look like they'll bring hail.

Karol has since been relieved of the night watch. A male weaponthane and fyrdman are on guard at the gate, the latter likely filling in for one of the weaponthanes who accompanied Yarl. "Hoy," the weaponthane on watch calls in greeting. "You get a good harvest? ... You all look somber, what happened?"

"Troll ambush. We lost four," answers the female weaponthane who'd punched the insensitive man. The two guards at the gate become instantly sober in their expressions. "But we have with us another Himmiskan survivor. He'll need to talk to Chief Kilgore."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl pipes up, "Tell your Chief that there is to be a meet between him and the Chief of Himmiskan."

His tone grows morose at the next command.

"And get Karol up here..."

[RandomWombat]

"Alright," the fyrdman turns to head into the tula. The rest of the caravan begin unloading the materials, weapons, and bodies.

"We'll need to give these four a proper burial," the female weaponthane says somberly. "But first we should find their families. They should be there for this."

"Should we bring these weapons to the smith? See if he can tell the make?" asks another fyrdman from the caravan.

[Prehysterical]

"Yes, we should find the families and bring the weapons to the smithy. But before we take them to the smith, there is someone else that I want to look at the weapons first. Wait here, my Chieftain." Before walking away, Yarl commands, "Someone get him some uncontaminated water from the barrels. Unlike us, he actually got tired from the walk."

Yarl makes his way down to Antorel's house. After getting past the guards, Yarl asks the man, "How would you like the opportunity to step outside and get some air? I need you to have a look at something."

[RandomWombat]

"You always were relentless," Solomon comments, not understanding the true meaning behind Yarl's comment about tiredness.

"I knew each of them," the female weaponthane says, moving the bodies off to the side and laying them out carefully so as not to simply have them strewn about - a difficult task when they are so badly damaged. "I'll find Karol and the other family members."


Yarl traverses the tula, going deeper in to the home of Antorel's sister. The guards let him through, to where Antorel is watching over the cauldron where the cure is brewing. The sickly green liquid inside the pot bubbles quietly over a low fire. Antorel looks up and glances over, "Oh? This should be good. What have you found this time?"

[Prehysterical]

Yarl motions for the man to follow him. As they walk, Yarl explains, "Last night, we were ambushed by four ice trolls and six worgs. Working together, displaying coordinated tactics and wielding forged metal weapons. We need you to look at the weapons and see if you can tell who made them. And before you get snarky with me, you're the one who knows the most about up north, so that makes you the most qualified."

[RandomWombat]

"Trolls with weapons," Antorel rubs his bare chin, thoughtfully. "Their regeneration interacts in fascinating ways with the infection up north. They just kind of turn into giant amorphous tumors. So, even if they can survive within the winter barrier, they certainly didn't get anything from beyond it."

[Prehysterical]

Yarl tried not to think of what could make a troll even uglier than normal.

Once they reach the gate and the laid out weapons, Yarl picks up an axe in emphasis. So you're telling me that a troll made this? A troll, creating fire-forged weapons?"

[RandomWombat]

Following Yarl's lead, Antorel strides through the tula. He casually ignores the mixed death glares and looks of fear shot his way. Some ways away from the gate when the two of them return, Karol and other family members of the fallen are weeping in mourning over the bodies.

Yarl easily hefts up the axe, which weighs as much as a human-sized greataxe, although the haft is too thick for the average human to properly grip. Antorel leans forward on his staff to look closely at it. After deliberating for a few minutes he announces, "Looks like an axe."

[Prehysterical]

After the night that he had gone through, Yarl was not in the mood for Antorel's cheek. Slamming the ax blade down into the dirt, Yarl grabs the man's ear and begins towing him like a naughty child back to the house.

"I can see that," he hisses. "And if this is the level of cooperation that I can expect from you, you can just go right back to being cooped up in that house like a hen!"

[RandomWombat]

"I will not be herded about like some pet. I'm giving you five seconds to get your hands off of me," Antorel growls back, any humor in his voice gone. "I'm not a smith, Brains. What did you expect me to tell you?"

[Prehysterical]

Yarl halts in the street but still maintains a hold of Antorel's ear. "I expect you to tell me things that we don't know, since there are clearly things that you keep to yourself. I'm well aware that you don't give a scoop of cow dung what happens to the Golangi, but I do. Any information that I can get that stops people from getting killed is worth pursuing." He points toward the grieving Golangi. "You're the only one here from up north. Has it been so long since dwarves have seen the surface that you don't know about bands of trolls stomping around on the surface?"

He regards the dwarf steadily. "Now, if I let go, do you promise to behave more like a grown man instead of a petulant child? Or shall I hold on and see what the 'great wizard' has in store?" Challenge was clear in Yarl's voice. He was taunting the man and Yarl knew it, but Antorel's ego grated against him like a whetstone and sharpened his tongue.

Surely, if he's half as intelligent as he claims to be, he'll know that making a scene in public won't be doing him any favors... right?

[RandomWombat]

"I will not be talked down to by an imbecile. This rural hamlet continues to exist because it, and you, serve my purposes," Antorel forcefully pulls his ear from Yarl's grasp and steps away from him. The dwarf rapidly recites an incantation while tracing a circle with his finger. A circle appears around Yarl's feet and he feels wetness in the air, then half a second later a block of ice spawns into existence around his body and renders him unable to move.

The dwarf's voice is muffled, "When you find your way back, maybe you will have learned proper respect for your betters. If you're not back in mm... three days, I'm leveling this place. Do you even hear me in there?" A pair of Golangi and Chief Solomon are running towards the location as the dwarf raises a hand and gives a dainty little wave, his figure distorted through the ice block. "Oh well. Have a nice trip."

Everything around Yarl vanishes and he feels his stomach twisting into a knot, like he's being slingshot out of something at high speed. Everything around him is a blur of colors, until it all snaps back into place. The ice around him melts, pooling in a puddle on the ground below him, rapidly freezing in the cold. He is standing on a snowy plateau somewhere high up in the mountains - which mountains he doesn't immediately know.

On one side of the plateau the mountain steeply climbs higher, and Yarl looks up to see dark storm clouds not far above him. On the other side of the plateau is a cliff that drops off sharply. The distant horizon past the sheer drop clears up, but the storm looks to be moving that way.

[Prehysterical]

Faster than Yarl can reason, he finds himself encased in ice like a corpse in a glacier... fitting, granted his current status. So surprised is he by the sudden imprisonment that he barely hears the dwarf's words and sees the clansmen rushing toward the wizard before being shot far away like an arrow. Yarl suffers a sense of confusion as the ice around him melts and refreezes at his feet, revealing his current location. The dwarf's words rang hauntingly through his mind.

If you're not back in mm... three days, I'm leveling this place.

In an instant, Yarl has likely undone any hope for the Golangi. By all the gods, Antorel might even be starting his rampage of vengeful destruction just to spite him! With the clarity of hindsight, Yarl realizes how stupid it had been to test the wizard in such a matter. It was just... he had been so angry! So much bad was happening in the world and then there were people like him profiting off of the misery of others! If he is capable of such magic, why do his people have such a hard time fighting this plague? He had seriously underestimated their captive.

Yarl shook his head to clear away the last vestiges of lingering color and cloudy thoughts. There was time for guilt and self-recrimination later. He had to get back to the tula as fast as possible. For all he knew, Antorel had hurled him a thousand leagues away from Golangi. He had to get moving. But first, a plan was needed.

Pulling out his map from his pack, Yarl approaches the edge and tries to see if any of the geography matches up. If he can recognize at least a few features, that would give him a better idea of which way would be quickest and how much wriggle room he had to work with in case things went wrong.

Spoiler: Mechanics

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Perception: (1d20+1)[2]
Survival: (1d20+5)[20], +2 with the kit (if Yarl is even close enough to home)
Finally, the dice realize when things are serious!

[RandomWombat]

Using the position of the sun estimated from the dawn light, Yarl is able to determine where north, south, east, and west are.

The rising wall of the mountain is to the west, while the sheer cliff face leads east. He recalls seeing the storm gathering to the west when he returned to the Golangi tula earlier in the morning, meaning that he must be among the peaks of Mt. Siinenen. To the northeast he can see the frozen sea that the Golangi tula is on the edge of. The Jorlaskan and Rostandin tulas would be north and south of where he is, and the Volsagi somewhere due east. It is hard to make out fine details from so far up among the clouds.

On the plus side, he is not a vast distance from the Golangi, but finding a safe way down the mountain could prove problematic.

[Prehysterical]

Okay, stay calm. You're not on the other side of the world. You can't freeze to death, you don't need food, and you don't get tired, but one fall will ruin everything. Get moving.

Yarl heads northeast, trying to see if there is a way down that doesn't result in being flattened like a pancake as gravity takes its toll.

Spoiler: Survival

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(1d20+5)[13]

[RandomWombat]

Yarl explores the plateau, looking for an exit, but to his chagrin there is no easy path. The rock wall on the south side is rough and not as sheer, meaning it could be climbed down with relative safety. It is a considerable distance down to the next section of solid ground, and the ground below is sloped. He would have to be careful not to slip on the snow and ice once he got there.

[Prehysterical]

Without any climbing gear, the south wall is his only hope. Using his undead strength, Yarl begins climbing down the wall after putting his shield on his back.

Spoiler: OOC

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By taking 10, Yarl gets a 16 result on his Climb check. I'm guessing since there is the risk of falling and hurting himself, Yarl can't take 20.

[RandomWombat]

Spoiler: OOC

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Correct. Yarl can clear most of the rock face up until a point by taking 10. Near the end he hits an icy patch and will need to make one check, since the DC increases by 5 on a slippery surface. If he passes a 20 he makes it successfully. It is not a long enough fall to cause damage, however...

Upon reaching the bottom Yarl will need to make a DC 10 Acrobatics check to get his bearings on the slippery slope without starting to slide. If he falls he will take a -5 penalty on the Acrobatics check.

Yarl carefully begins his descent, no doubt thankful for his simulated 'touch' sense. It would suck to be fumbling around blind here. He climbs for several minutes, slowly and methodically progressing, when he reaches a spot where his foot nearly slips. Some of the hand-and-foot-holds near the bottom are icy. He has only a few feet to fall, but a sloppy landing could send him sliding down the slope below.

[Prehysterical]

Spoiler: OOC

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Climb check: (1d20+6)[24]
Acrobatics: (1d20-1)[8], -5 if he fails the Climb check.

Yarl had to admit that it was a good thing that he was immune to the cold's icy grip, or else he would be unable to cling to the rock surface so effectively. Just a little more...

He makes it safely down the icy patch of the wall... only to have his feet slide out from under him at the bottom.

[RandomWombat]

Losing his footing on a patch of ice hidden beneath the snow, Yarl falls on his rear and slides down the slope. It flattens out ahead, but soon after breaks off into a drop of indeterminate height.

Spoiler: OOC

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Yarl can attempt a second DC 10 Acrobatics check to slow himself to a stop on the flatter area. If he fails that, he can attempt a DC 15 Reflex save to catch himself on the ledge.

[Prehysterical]

Thankfully, Yarl didn't fall on the flat of his back, or he would have already careened off without a chance. His arms and legs scramble to find leverage and stop him from going over the ledge.

Spoiler: Mechanics

Show

Acrobatics: (1d20-1)[8]

[RandomWombat]

Yarl scrabbles about, accidentally slipping and landing on his elbow. He slides off of the ledge, though not at a breakneck pace thanks to the leveling in the slope. He falls down the rough rock face, taking a pummeling as he goes, and the world spins around him. He feels impacts against his undead flesh and then lands with a loud WHUMP in the snow below. He's fallen into a crevice in the mountain, the side he fell from taller than that opposite. To his right the crevice closes off, but to his left it opens up and exits into flatter mountain terrain. What lies beyond that is unknown.

Spoiler: Mechanics

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Yarl falls 40 feet into the crevice, taking 12 damage in the process. He is prone in a 30 foot wide crevice, the sheer cliff face opposite where he fell is 30 feet tall..

[Prehysterical]

Thank the gods that Yarl couldn't actually feel pain, or the fall would have been agonizing. Instead, he merely gets to distantly feel parts of his body breaking from impacting against the cliff side. Finally, the snow comes to greet him and lays there for a moment, mind racing to catch up with the sudden change in position.

Awkwardly picking himself off the ground, Yarl takes stock of his surroundings before heading toward the left. He digs out his map and uses it to prevent himself from walking in circles.

Spoiler: Mechanics

Show

Perception: (1d20+1)[13]
Survival: (1d20+7)[27]

[RandomWombat]

Yarl exits the crevice, emerging on a more navigable part of the mountain. He is able to get his bearings and determine that he is currently facing north. To his right, to the east, the slopes get steeper again, but they descend more gently to the north. To the west is a cliff wall.

Looking up, he is directly beneath the east-facing sheer drop he started from. It looms above him in a slight overhang. Falling from there would have almost certainly been his end.