Stormchaser Roleplaying

The rural mining village of Sheercleft in the Ice Cap Peaks was recently occupied by a goblin army under the leadership of the fearsome Warlord Kung. Thanks to the courage and skill of a band of local heroes, the goblins and their allies, a cabal of wizards whispered to be named the Mabinogi, have since been driven off into the mountains. However, for the inhabitants of Sheercleft, this is only the beginning. The village must be rebuilt and fortified against other threats and trade routes must be reopened if the the mines are to flourish. Jex Blake, one of Sheercleft's new heroes, has gathered together a merchant caravan to travel south-east to the duchy of Quenlan in the neighbouring kingdom of Breanne. The 300 mile journey will see the caravan traversing mountain trails and dark forest, before the road finally reaches the relative safety of Breannian farmlands. Those who attempt the venture will need stout hearts and steady nerves if they are to be successful, but amongst mountain men neither are in short supply.

26th of Silvan, 1018 Nestled in the heart of Shamleyside, Ringrut's tavern is the heart and soul of the Sheercleft community and the last chance for a stout drink by a warm fire before the caravan leaves early tomorrow morning. Ringrut, a middle-aged Dwarf looked up to by most, is behind the bar washing tankards as usual and the common room is littered by locals seeking some normality amongst the countless changes that the last three weeks have brought. The invasion has changed life in Sheercleft irrevocably. Not just the death, destruction and turmoil, but the new order brought about by the village's liberation. Life has been turned on its head and the impending departure of many who might have otherwise stayed is a sign of that. Outside, the moon is rising high in the sky, masking the light of sun and bringing night to the Ice Cap Peaks. The wagons leave just a few hours after first light.

”BY THE BLOOD OF THE EARTH IF A GOBLIN CAME AT ME LIKE THAT I’D RIP ITS SPINE THROUGH ITS EYE SOCKET!” Aradhel roars in response to the suggestion that he’d spare a goblin’s life if it indulged his ego enough. It’s true that Aradhel more than meets the expectations of those that know the elves to be prideful. But raining praises on the barbarian for his bloody conquests could never compare to the cathartic feeling he gets when he is actually taking part in those bloody conquests. The elf leans back, feeling his point has been made. He goes to take another sip of ale, but first must find which of the numerous tankards in front of him his yet to be drained.

"Yes, thank you. I'm not trying to just indulge your ego." Turning to the others, Gwalchmai emphasizes, "I am not just trying to indulge his ego." He turns back. "I've just foreseen it, that's all. You will be critical to the success of this mission. I'm not sure how. You just will be. So be ready. That's all I'm saying." Shrugging and leaning back in their booth, Gwalchmai reaches for his mug and sips some more of his mead. "Anyway, what's your story?" he says nodding towards the smallest member of their group. (edited)

"His story? Ha." Avrik laughs with a low gravelly chuckle. Avrik slams his right fist beneath his beard, and belches as his tankard drops back onto the table, making an empty hollow sound. The dwarf rubs his hand through his beard. Pausing, he looks back to the others, as if he was supposed to say more, "What? Oh I didn't mean any thing by et. Tell'em ya story, dere Mouse." (edited)

As the trio looks toward the end of the table a large flagon of ale rises slowly to the level of the table before sliding slowly forward only to quickly be flanked by a pair of tiny hands. Pulling himself up onto a chair the Halfling known as Mouse looks up to see their faces and attention directed in his direction. "Huh? Did I miss something?" The tiny man asks with confusion.

”Almost missed dinner little one” says Gurathag putting some plates on the table with roasted meat and some fried vegetables. ”What was all that yelling about anyway? It didn’t take me so long” (edited)

”Gwalchmai thinks goblins singing my praises is enough to distract me from their slaughter. Truly I would enjoy the song, but it would only hasten their deaths as their voices drove me deeper into bloody ecstasy.” Aradhel takes another swig of ale as punctuation to the matter-of-fact statement.

"What? No...That was...I was literally saying the oppo....oh never mind. So, Mouse? Is it? Where are you from? Why are you coming in this job with us?"

Kazin chuckles at Aradhel, as he takes a sip from his steaming mug "And the world is a darker place bereft of your fiery passions. Though I'm sure the goblins praise their gods for having missed it." His fiery gold eyes stare into his mug for a moment before adding "But what's done is done my friends. The future holds so many possibilities. The fires have shown me visions of fame, glory, and most importantly gold in our future. Glory be to Belenus if it becomes so."

"Never say no to a bit of honest coin, the Allhammer willing." Avrik says, holding up his hand for another tankard of ale.

The little Halfling attempts to lift the giant tankard of ale to cheers, but quickly sets it down and instead brings his mouth down to it's rim in order to sip with it still firmly set on the table. As a question is fired toward him he perks up and after only a split second of thought replies, but only after letting out a fairly impressive belch. "Oh you know my people, we don't really call anywhere home for long. I suppose you could say I'm from everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. As for why I'm going along, this big lug needs someone to watch his back!" He explains as he points a tiny thumb toward Aradhel, the other outsider at the table.

The heat with which Kazin speaks is almost frightening, but Gwalchmai is pleased to hear of gold in their future. Still, something felt off about the man. Maybe it was just the power radiating from him--so obvious to anyone around. It made Gwalchmai feel...well inadequate wasn't quite the right word, but it wasn't far off the mark. Maybe that was all it was. Maybe.

-The thing is that we must see this trade route secure. The city needs the supplies and the coin for its reconstruction. Moradin needs to see its temple rebuilt too. And before that human builds his temple to his thunder god... don't get me wrong "- Gurathag says while he stps to take a sip from his tankard - I do appreciate what these heroes did, and that norscan lad doesn't seem a bad guy, not too sharp on the edges if you know what I mean, but a good fellow nonetheless... it's just that Sheercleft has always praised to Moradin, and to Moradin it should praise..."

A craggy old Dwarven miner covered in tattoos approaches the table where those pegged for guard duty are sat enjoying their last night of hospitality before they set out for Breanne. "Hear ye're headed for the Wentwood," he croaks, drawing up a stool between the two other Dwarves. From the looks of the elder, he may have seen more winters than everyone at the table put together. "It's a treacherous road - stick t'the path."

Kazin meets the dwarf's eyes, his eyes sparking with curiosity. "So we've heard. What can you tell us about the journey?"

Without a word Gurathag puts a tankard full of ale in front of the older dwarf.

The worn greybeard reaches wordlessly for the tankard and takes a long draught, before slowly looking around the table from left to right, meeting each of the greenhorns' eyes in turn. "Folks who lose their way in the Wentwood 'ave an 'abit of not coming back. That forest's as old as Eldren, an' twice as dark. They say that y'find what y'take in with you, but Thard knows it won't be a bunch o' cheery ass Elves!" The Dwarf slaps his thigh and guffaws wheezily.

Avrik point in excitement and joins his laughter in with the joke. For him the levity was a good release of the worry that had been building. He needed to be strong though. 'For the others.' But none of that concern crossed Avrik's face. For the moment, it was comradary with his companions, and the solidarity of his people. (edited)

Aradhel unleashes a bellowing laugh. ”Be they elves or otherwise, cheery or dour, we shall meet them with smiles on our faces and steel in our fists. We will be coming back, victorious!” Confidence beams from the elf as he puffs his tattooed chest out and smiles.

Nodding to the dwarf " then I will bring nothing but gold and a fiery song of our triumphs. And if the gods are just, we will meet our match and double our joy" his eyes flashing with an almost manic light as he speaks

"Here, here" Avrik raises the empty mug with cheer at his band. 'This would be another great trip.' The dwarf considered.

Gwalchmai raises his hands above the table and a shimmering, moving image appears of the group of them gloriously fighting and slaying goblins. Above the image, Gwalchmai's hands dance about as if the figures in the image were marionette dolls on strings hanging from his fingers. "Fortune and glory, kids. Fortune and glory." The smile splitting his face beams around the room. (edited)

The cleric raises his mug and cheer with the others but he doesn’t really share their enthusiasm. He shares a grim look and a nod of gratitud and understanding with the older dwarf while the others laughs. There has been too much killing in the past months, the journey could bring even more. He will make sure, with the aid of Moradin, that the death are not on their side.

The elder's laughter subsides, breaking off into a hacking cough. The serious look in his eye returns as the Dwarf solemnly offers some final words of wisdom. "Twen'y leagues of alpine slopes, twen'y of 'ills thick with trees and another score of the deepest, darkest forest you've ever seen. There's more than just Goblins in the Wentwood. Stick t'the road." With that, he glugs down the remainder of the tankard offered by Gurathag and heads out into the night.

"I get the feeling that fellow wants us to stay on the road.". Mouse deadpans as the Dwarf totters off. "Must mean there's something good out there..." He continues with a twinkle in his eye.

Gurathag looks to Mouse sharply. ”Ok listen to me. All of ya. All that glory and gold are nice yeah, I can relate. But nobody is going to do anything stupid to try to earn some extra gold or glory. We stick to the road, keep the caravan and ourselves safe and come back here. This is not mere business the city is counting on us.” he points each and every one of the others ” so you better behave or I personally will smack your asses until you cannot sit for a week! Now eat something! You’ll need your strength and some of you need to put some meat over those bones!!” he puts more meat in front of Mouse.

"My friend you worry to much! All of our lives will be fed to the great flame eventually. The only thing a mortal can do is burn as bright as possible until that day comes. " Smiling and downing the rest of his mug "But I do agree! The road is a cold dark place, tonight we should eat and drink until bursting. So we have at least one glowing memory to look back on once misery sets in." Kazin Smiles at Aradhel and says "Am i right friend?!"

”Damn-bloody-right!” the elf exclaims, ale sloshing from his cup as he raises it fervently. ”We’ll burn brighter than the sun and the terrors will quake in our presence. We will be the only things worth fearing.”

As Gurathag speaks, Mouse tries his best not to roll his eyes, he's only partially successful though as they roll up into his head as soon as the Dwarf turns from him. When the priest orders them to eat his mouth opens and words spill from it unbidden. "Yes mother."

Gurathag stands, pushing away his chair and stands tall in front of Mouse. He stares at him and says. ”I’ve heard you Mouse. And it’s Mister Gurathag or Uncle Gur for you!” He pass anothe tankard to him and raises his own to drink with him.

Mouse squints at the nearly full head sized tankard in front of him before addressing the rest of the group with a loud stage whisper. "I think Uncle Gur's trying to get me drunk..." (edited)

”Let’s see how much ale we can put inside that little body of yours lad!”

27th of Silvan Early the next morning, ore merchants, their drivers, their guards and a few odd passengers gather near the south-east edge of the village to say their farewells and prepare the wagons for departure. Some are more hungover than others. Mist hangs in the chill mountain air and clouds mask the sky turning the dawn light grey. It's cold and damp and dark, but the road beckons. At the front of the line of wagons stands Gareth Jones. A pasty, thick-set Breannian man, with a dark mutton-chop beard and moustache. Gareth seemed almost disappointed that he didn't fall gloriously in battle when the village was retaken and has an unnerving habit of being right about how things are going to pan out. He will be leading the caravan to Quenlan. (edited)

His gear prepared, Avrik approaches Gareth, giving a respectful bow to the wagon master. "Hey 'dere, Mr. Jones. Good mornin'." Avrik quickly steals a glance back for the others. "How soon 'til we shove off, sir?" (edited)

Gwalchmai approaches with a haughty air, staff in had with his pack floating in the air behind him. "'Morning Avrik. And you must be Gareth. An honor to be protecting you and the shipment, good sir." (edited)

Avrik nods to the approaching wizard, but says nothing as to not potentially interrupt Gareth.

Jones gives a nod of acknowledgement to the stout, armoured Dwarf, who clearly meets his expectations of a caravan guard. "Where's y'sword, laddie?" Gareth asks with an arched eyebrow. "Y'gonna fight Goblins with that there stick o'yours?" He shakes his head and spits on the rocks at the mention of Goblins. "Y'look like a damn Mab." (edited)

In the rear of the caravan, the cleric of Moradin is finishing a prayer to the Allfather asking for good fortune and the safety of the members of the convoy and the city. He puts his hands in front of him and blows some iron dust from his fingers in the direction of wagons, turns and does the same towards Sheercleft. He then awaits for the caravan to start moving.

Mouse weaves his way through the caravan, quickly making his way toward the middle of the line of wagons. He'll leave guarding their rear to someone else, no need to be putting himself into any unnecessary danger, he uses a bow for a reason after all. As he thinks on his weapon his little hand instinctively goes to ensure it is still secured to his back before doing the same for the thin rapier that hangs at his belt. Reassured that they are where they should be, he quickly clambers up the side of one of the wagons, not slowing until he's reached the very top of the stores pilled upon it. From his perch many times his own height off the ground the little man is able to see much further without having to be underfoot. The fact that he doesn't need to run to keep up with the carts is merely a pleasant side effect.

Rings of smoke proceed the man as Kazin walks up to his companions and Gareth with an overly cheery smile on his face and a black and gold colored pipe in his hand. Catching the captain's words as he approaches. His black and gold robes fluttering in the wind. In his usual rapid fire style of speech he says "My friend, a sword pales in comparison to one who can manipulate the arcane. And Gwalchmai here, is more than capable of handling any old goblin with his magical might. You should never judge a book by it's cover Gareth. Only a fool would do so, and my friend you are far to successful to ever look the fool." Winking and chuckling quickly, before resuming his rapid pace. "What cargo will we be protecting this trip? "

”If he were a Mabinogi I would have already gutted him and strung his innards from Ringrut’s rafters.” Aradhel says as he comes to join the group with a grin and a reassuring hand on the wizard’s shoulder. ”But Kazin’s right, both of these mages are deadly in their own right and I have enough sword for all three of us.”

Gwalchmai shows his teeth in what some might consider a smile.

1

"Ore," Jones states plainly, giving Kazin a blank look as though the exotically dressed man might have a screw or two loose. "From the mines. Now, stow y'bags an let's make like trees. Don't say I didn't warn you when y'fancy tricks end with a Goblin blade in y'gut." Gareth scoffs and heads for the wagon at the front of the caravan, muttering something about 'damn wizards' to himself.

"Yeah! Quit your jabbering and let's get rolling!" Mouse shouts from his perch atop one of the wagons.

The driver of the wagon grabs a rock from the hopper behind him and tosses it in Mouse's general direction. "Git y'loud arse down from there," the Dwarf barks. "We'll all face judgement soon enough." He chuckles darkly as he clicks to the mule drawing the wagon to set them moving.

"Hey, I'm on your side!" The halfling shouts as he dodges the chunk of Ore and completely ignores the words it's throwing was designed to emphasize. Instead he pulls his bow from his back and lays it across his chest as he lays back for a nice midmorning nap.

Kazin fills his pipe and sets off at the head of the convoy. Alternating between blowing smoke; rings, ships, and on an especially creative puff a troll bursting from a field of smoke. The man chatters to himself as he keeps an "eye out", looking for anything he deems especially interesting or dangerous. He liked going first. Kazin always said that the head of the march get's the story, and the back get's the clean up. Fishing out his flask he takes a sip between puffs as he enjoys the wild's of Sheercleft.

Kazin marches ahead of the wagons and, over the next few hours, he finds himself pushing against a mounting windstorm as the weather takes a turn for the worse. The temperature drops to freezing and the snow on the air makes it hard to see ahead of the convoy until, all too suddenly, the peak of Mount Judgement looms over the road ahead. She stares down, ready to test any who dare follow the trail upon her snowy shoulders.

Blowing warn air into his hands Gurathag looks up to the peak. "Hope they know what they are doing up front " he mumbles almost to himself "We cannot afford to lose a cart in this haze... but we risk to be stuck in here for the snow... if you ask me I would try to reach the other side of the mountain and then camp... but no one asks me... " he produces a flask and takes a sip of brandy to heat his body

"It'll be fine, brother. He guides our path as He sees fit." Avrik replies, cradling Dragonfall in his arms as they walk beside each other. "Normally you point that out to me."

The dwarf looks surprised to see his brother next to him at the end of the convoy but he smiles to him, passing the flask he adds "I doubt that old Jones pays too much attetion to His words"

Avrik chuckles as he accepts the flask, and downs a few sips. He exhales in satisfaction, and passes it back over. "Your words to the maker's hammer." The dwarf looks Gurathag over, "Just dropped back to check up on ya. Ya seemed quiet there toward the end at the tavern." (edited)

Gurathag puts back the flask into his iner pocket and shakes some snow from his shoulders. "I am fine brother" he replies to Avrik "I am worried that the others see this as walk throght the forest and those goblins cannot be taken lightly. We did... and look what happened back at Sheercleft... I will not let my guard down again" the cleric looks around, as if he was expecting a band of furious goblins descend upon them in that moment.

Avrik shift the hammer to one side and places a hand on his brother's shoulders, "As long as we learn from our mistakes, then they were not in vain." He looks down with a momentary solace for those lost back at the town. "I was glad to have been by your side then, rather than out on the road. We were indeed blessed." Avrik buries a slight catch in his throat, "I would hate to be without you, Gurathag." Avrik kicked himself for bringing such a sensitive subject up, but it was true. He loved his brother dearly.

Gurathag pits his hand over Avrik's shoulder as well. "We were indeed blessed. And I thank Moradin for allowing us to live through all together. He had to hammer us a little bit in the fires of his forge to sharpen us didn't he? " he presses his brother's shoulder with emotion, thinking on those who weren't lucky enough to had survived. "Let's don't make the thrist for adventure and glory of the rest to make a dent on us ok?" he clears his throat, patting Avrik's shoulder a couple of times. "What are they thinking up there anyway? We should get moving or we will be frozen statues soon" he looks to his brother "You'll do an ugly one though" (edited)

Avrik fakes a punch, but just gives a hearty laugh as he picks up the pace to get closer to the carts. He looks back to Gurathag with a nod and a wink.

The road ahead is a patchwork of rock and crusts of snow. The mountains groan as the sky and earth strain against one another and, through the blizzard, the silhouettes of the upcoming peaks rise impossibly high, never seeming to grow nearer, only more massive. High above, a weathered, dry-stone building clings to the mountainside.

As the road and winds begin to rise, Mouse makes his way down from his perch. Pulling his cloak tighter around himself he moves to shield himself from the biting cold grumbling lowly in halfling the entire time. "Damn mountains, who the hell chooses to live or travel through a place like this when there are nice sunny farmlands nearby?! Casting his eyes around they fall on the brothers in the rear as his voice rises, though he still speaks in his native tongue. "Dirty stinky Dwarves, that's who!"

Aradhel is nonplussed as the biting cold whips around his bare torso. He marches at the front of the group near Kazin. ”Sunny farmlands can’t compare to this rugged beauty! Who can resist the constant thrill of testing your body against the elements like this?” The elf picks up the pace, seemingly excited to be wading into this blizzard.

A popping gives way to a hurricane roar as snow abruptly begins to thunder down the mountainside from above! Not even the cold can hold on to these impossible slopes. (edited)

¡¡Avalanche!! yells Gurathag trying to warn the front of the caravan.

The roar of crushing ice and snow is met by Aradhel’s own thunderous cry. The barbarian leaps into action, running back along the caravan. As he goes, each unwary merchant and traveler that he meets is forcefully shoved out of the way, pushed inside carts, or dragged behind cargo. ”Get down or the mountain will devour you!” he commands

"Shit!" Mose cries as he dives under one of the wagons, hoping that the bulk of it's contents will provide some safety.

Taking his pack from his unseen servant, Gwalchmai commands it to stand fast in front of the wagon he is next to to act as the point of the spear. Taking cover behind the servant but in front of the wagon he is sworn to protect, he hefts his magically imbued weapon and slams the staff into the ground, channeling any and all magical might he can in to it to try to part the tidal wave of snow breaking on their band of adventurers. (edited)

Avrik starts to charge away from the torrent of snow and rock, but see his brother still standing there. He could not leave him there. "Moradin protect us." He grabs his brother, forcing him behind him to shelter him. He braces his stance against the encroaching snow, and prays that the Allhammer still has need of them.

The mountain comes crashing around Kazin. For a moment fear builds in the man as the snow and ice hurtle into him. The Sarameian cries out as the mountain's fury cuts into him, but instead of blood fire pours out from his body. As the fire appears his fear morphs into exhilaration, his eyes growing wild as he watches the fire melt into the crashing snow.

The ice and snow hurtle towards him and pass harmlessly through his unseen servant. With essentially no time to curse this unfortunate and unexpected outcome, the avalanche is upon him. With a blinding flash of light and a crack like thunder, the magical energies in his staff smash outward, parting the ice and snow like a ship prow parts the waters. A chunk of ice gets through, though, and slams into his chest, making him take a step backwards to steady himself. Well that could have been worse.

Finally, the roar of falling ice and snow stills, until all that remains is the sound of the wind whistling along the pass. "Everyone sound off!" Gareth roars, kicking boulder-like chunks of snow aside as he dislodges himself from behind a wagon. Thanks to Gurathag and Aradhel's sharp instincts and rapid reactions, it seems that nobody has been severely injured. However, the wagons are now trapped beneath several feet of snow. It will take no small amount of work to get them free.

"Gwalchmai."

"Avrik!" the dwarf gives a strained shout with the snow pressing up against him.

”Gurathag” says the dwarf starting to move the snow Boulder that is over his brother ”You ok Avrik?” (edited)

Secure in a pocket of air below his wagon Mouse squirms around enough to pull his rapier free and begins to use it as a probe. Quickly managing to find the edge of the wagon he swirls it around enough to clear a small hole through the snow, not enough for even his slight frame to squeeze through, but enough to allow him to breath and to shout through. "Can anyone hear me? I'm under the wagon, but uninjured! Is everyone else OK?"

"I hear you, little one." Gwalchmai starts to dig Mouse out with his staff. (edited)

”Aradhel the Devourer!” the elf says, brushing ice and snow from his now bruised body. ”Mouse! Hold tight, we shall release you from your icy prison.”

"Funny, I was gonna ask you the same thing." Avrik smiles at his brother.

"If stuff is still falling I'm fine with staying where I am. I don't suppose I could get some tea though?!" The thief shouts as he uses his feet and arms to form the snow around him into a lounge chair. It's a lounge chair of snow and ice, but still more comfortable than the piles of ore he'd been resting on earlier.

Gareth scrapes away enough snow from his wagon to get at a shovel and begins to chip at the thick drifts, starting by freeing the poor mules who are in danger of freezing. The other drivers quickly follow suit. "Dornt ye fash yerse, Moose. I'll gie yer wee erse it!" One tells Mouse in an especially thick Dwarven accent as he works at opening a tunnel underneath.

"What?! Did he just say there's a Moose out there?!" Mouse shouts before he hears the shoveling. "Hey, hey, hey! If there's a moose out there I want to stay in here. Wait, IS THE MOOSE DIGGING TOWARD ME?!" He continues with growing panic.

"Calm yer tittes, wee cheil. I've got ye," chuckles the Dwarf as the snow falls away from the side of the wagon to make space for the Halfling.

Avrik helps his brother dig himself the rest of the way out. "Wehl de mountain speaks, eh?" he asks aloud.

Kazin continues dig and use his flames to claw his way out of the snowy prison. Once he has freed himself he fishes his pipe out of his pocket, smacking it a few time to clear it of snow before filling it with a bit of leaf. Walking back along the trail he find the others and with a wild look in his eyes runs up to the group. Speaking excitedly and just this side of yelling he says "My friends that was glorious! I've forged my way through sandstorms, even the fury of the sea, but this was my first taste of the icy frenzy of the mountain. A fun adventure to be sure." He then looks around and belatedly adds "Oh is everyone alright?"

Fine powder hangs in the air like mist, glistening in the light as the sun emerges from behind a cloud. Slowly, it begins to settle, until, high up on the sheer rock of the mountain, the horned silhouette of a hooved humanoid creature can be made out watching from above. When spotted, it turns to leave, scurrying along the impossible slope and up towards the strange building that sits high upon the face of Judgement.

"Listen here rock head. Just because I don't have a beard that goes down to my damned knees, it doesn't mean I'm a child!" The little Halfling complains as he's pulled free from his frosty lair. He seems ready to continue haranguing the dwarf, but movement up the mountain catches his eye. "What the hell was that?!" He shouts as he points toward the silhouette. "Was that a moose?!"

Aradhel’s fingers itch towards the hilt of his blade. ”Some sort of goat man more like. Similar creatures stalk the woods of my home. They typically travel in herds.” He looks around at the others with a predatory glint in his eyes.

The cleric taps his brother's shoulder and makes sures he is alright before focusing on healing those who had suffer some minor wounds Gurathag doesn't see the creature. In fact he is talking with Gareth. "Some bruises an' minur woonds. karl has a broken arm but it will heal. th' laddie shoods braw in a coople ay weeks"

Gareth holds his hand against his brow to shade his eyes as he stares up the slopes at the building perched high on the mountainside. "What is that? A monastery?" He muses aloud. "Who built it?" The stoic Breannian man turns to search for his escort. "Are the goatkin usually welcoming?" He asks. "We're gonna be sat here under the snow for some time without some extra hands and tools."

Avrik strokes his beard, knocking snow and debris free from it. "Nae a scooby. mebbe. nae harm in askin'."

Nobody present seems keen on the idea of scaling the mountain to visit the goatkin and ask for help, so the traders and drivers set about putting their backs into the hard work of freeing the wagons. It takes a couple of hours, but eventually the tough, mountain men triumph over the deep drifts and the mules are able to pull their loads free. However, the temperature is dropping rapidly and all that time standing on the icy road has taken its toll. "We make for Cruelty!" Gareth yells back down the line. Up ahead, the next mountain in this chain can be seen. A slope of brittle, porous rock. Thick plumes of steam curl from finger-thick holes, and no snow stays for long. The perfect respite from the frozen face of Judgement?

"This seems like a nice warm place to camp, which I think we can all appreciate right now." Mouse calls out as he holds his hands out toward the warm steam, the not moose from earlier already forgotten.

Some way off the path, great white clouds emerge from a crater. Along its the rim, glistening ice feeds a hundred tiny streams that converge at the foggy centre, where a tall wall topped with goat and seal skulls stands. A stone arch in the wall is blocked by an outrageously stocky man in a dirty cowl. (edited)

The towering elf strides forward to meet this stranger. "What have we here? Be you a guardian of this den? I am Aradhel the Devourer. I and these others protect this caravan and we seek respite for the softer of our flock. Do you intend to help us, or do you intend to be a challenge?"

The man tilts his head curiously at Aradhel. "This is Shelek's garden and I am its gatekeeper," he tells the Elf simply. Over the gatekeeper's shoulder, Aradhel can see an orchard and lush garden of strange plants, laden with heavy black fruit.

”Well laddie. Be a good gatekeeper and go and tell Shelek that we have people that are in need of help” says the bald dwarf looking at the man in the eye

Avrik hears the intent in his brothers voice, but does not move or motion to dishonor him. He remains silent, looking from the gatekeeper to Gurathag to Aradhel. Frowning in contemplation. (edited)

Gwalchmai stares quietly. Perhaps this is where Aradhel would be invaluable on their quest. Best be silent and observe for now.

The gatekeeper bends in a stiff bow towards the visitors, before turning and entering the garden. Behind him, a wooden gate closes to block the archway. Kazin begins to contemplate what they have just seen and heard and is about to open is mouth when suddenly two arrows fall from the sky, landing in the snow at his feet with a whistle and a sharp thud.

"Incoming!" Mouse shouts as he ducks behind one of the wagons. Once behind cover the little halfling pulls his bow from his back, spilling several arrows on the ground as he does so. He quickly snatches one up, notches it, and prepares to return fire. Just as soon as he figures out who's shooting at them. (edited)

The first arrow causes Kazin to drop his pipe by the second Kazin is nearly glowing with excitement as the arrow comes crashing from the sky next to his feet. Kazin darts to cover as he stokes his internal fire guiding the magics to begin summoning his fiery brand. Shouting as he goes "And I thought today would be boring, look alive friends. Excitement has found us!"

Gwalchmai stands his ground, channeling power into his staff as he slams it on the ground to make a thunderclap of noise. "Hold your fire. We mean no harm!"

”I MEAN HARM!” the Devourer roars. He unleashes the massive elven blade strapped to his back and rushes forward. With a great cleaving swipe he sends the sword into the gate before shouting out again. ”COME AND FACE US!”

"The arrows came from behind us! Look to the steam vents!" Mouse shouts as he brings his weapon to bear on the steam vents. "Red hats should make them easy targets."

Another arrow sails high overhead from behind Aradhel, striking him in the back. Blood blossoms from the wound and begins to ooze down the Elf's shoulder blade.

As arrows continue to fly, Mouse darts out from behind cover and fires. His arrow streaks across the distance and pierces one of the red topped gnomes through the neck, causing it to slump in it's vent.

As Mouse fells its comrade, another of the Gnomes leaps from its little crater and charges the Halfling with a manic shriek as it swings a pickaxe over its head.

”GRRRRAHHHHHH!” the barbarian kicks off from the wooden gate and charges towards the enemies. Seeing one of the foes coming for Mouse, the elf veers towards it and swings down with his sword. As the crushing weight of Aradhel’s steel is feebly intercepted by the gnome’s weapon, the pickaxe splinters apart and the gnome is driven down into the rocky dirt with a spray of gravel. (edited)

Aradhel successfully intercepts the gnome, the pickaxe drawing blood as it shatters against his chest. (edited)

As Kazin runs flames encircle his hands creating a golden globe of fiery energy. Seeing the Gnome run towards Mouse he raises his hand and sends the globe hurling at the gnome.

One of the Gnomes takes advantage of Kazin popping up from behind the cover of the wagon and a well-placed arrow sends the globe of flame flying high over the head of Kazin's target.

Gwalchmai tries to hide out of sight behind a tree and then puts his robe on his unseen servant. Handing over his hat to complete the illusion, he commands the unseen servant to walk a few paces towards the fighting to draw one or more gnomes away from his companions.

Gwalchmai's distraction proves particularly convincing and a steam goblin leaps towards it, coming unexpectedly close to the nearby wizard as it closes on the unseen servant.

Avrik spins his maw in a flash of speed trying to deflect the blows. Arrows careen off his weapon's head, scattering across the ground. (edited)

Rearing back with his long staff, the wizard tries to take advantage of the misdirection to clober the goblin.

Seeing his opening, Avrik charges towards the attackers. He swings at the gnome's head bringing the weapon up with a metal uppercut.

The Gnome twists to the side and Dragonfall rebounds off of its helmet with a resounding clang. The egg-like dome is the only thing that saves it from instant death. Still reeling from the powerful blow, the little creature lets out a feral shriek and thumps Avrik in the gut with the head of its pickaxe. (edited)

Gwalchmai's staff sails over the Gnome's head and the little creature swings its pick at the wizard's legs, hooking them out from beneath him and sending him sprawling across the rocks!

Aradhel uses his forward momentum to send a kick directly into the little humanoid’s skull. More gravel is loosened as the gnome is punted off the ground and sent rocketing towards one of his fellows. With a sickening crack both of their knobby little heads collide. The first gnome is dead on impact, ricocheting off at an angle and bouncing limp to the ground to leak brain into the dirt. The second foe is launched off his feet with the kinetic force, flying several yards before grinding to a stop. Slowly the gnome lifts his aching head, though most of his ruined face is left behind as bloody pulp.

Seeing these things up close for the first time, Gwalchmai searches his memories of his stolen book filled with arcane lore and mystic secrets for some mention of these wee beasties. Perhaps they had some weakness or some desire (other than for flesh and blood) that he could satisfy.

Avrik moves in to finish the small nuisance, reversing the pull of his hammer to slam it upon the gnome's helm.

Avrik's blow glances off of the dented helmet and the Gnome swings its pickaxe down into the blackened rock, opening a crack beneath the Dwarf's feet. Stumbling on the porous stone, Avrik finds his ankle caught in the fissure. Meanwhile, Gwalchmai hesitates as he lies sprawled on the ground before the Gnome that he is facing. The nasty little creature kicks the wizard hard in the gut, before swinging its pickaxe down at his head. (edited)

As his allies come to his aid and begin fighting back against the gnomish horde, Mouse once again darts out and quickly sends several shots toward one of the wounded gnomes, but unfortunately misses all his shots as his target slides smoothly across the ground. -1 Ammo

Kazin's face twists in frustration, as his fiery blast goes wide. Still reeling from pain as the gnome's arrow, his gold eyes grow wild as the magic flows through him and manifests another globe of flame and hurls it at the gnome fighting Avrik. (edited)

Gwalchmai's inner search ends only in pain as his gut explodes in misery. As he sees the pickaxe swinging towards his head, Gwalchmai channels power into his staff attempting to make it spark brightly to dazzle the puny ruffian as he closes his eyes and rolls to avoid the blow. (edited)

Kazin's brand scorches the Gnome's goat-hide cape, but does no serious damage. However, the attack does leave him in the open and exposed to Gnomish arrows. Meanwhile, Gwalchmai's staff temporarily dazzles the subterranean Gnome and the wizard is able to move aside just in time.

The barbarian’s warpath can not be stopped. He runs up on the poor gnome with the ruined face and raises his blade with the point reaching straight for the earth beneath him. ”I am Aradhel the Devourer, you are OBLIVION!” he decrees before plunging the blade downward.

In a painful-looking motion born of fear and desperation, the Gnome lurches to the side, barely evading Aradhel's enormous sword as it comes crashing down into the ground. A resounding CRACK echoes about the crater and a sheet-like geyser of steam comes shooting up out of a rapidly opening fissure that spiders across the ground towards Avrik in a jagged line. Aradhel staggers as the crevice opens and rock crumbles beneath his feat threatening to swallow him up.

Glancing down at his nearly empty quiver, Mouse does the quick math and determines it may be time to conserve ammo and instead move in with is sword. As much as he really, really hates to put himself in danger, it seems like he might have no choice... With a quick and practiced motion, his bow is once more looped around his body and safely hanging behind him. As his hand drops it finds itself on the well worn pommel of his Rapier, which another quick movement later is in his hand. "Gnome Slayer, guide my hand!" The little Halfling shouts as he lifts the totally mundane weapon high above his head and charges up to Aradnel's side. With another flourish he spins the blade and drives it down into the prone Gnome before him. The blade barely pierces the gnomes armor and skin before Mouse is already dancing back away from his target. "See Gnome Slayer bite and be warned!"

Avrik furious with the gnome's continued attacks, lets Dragonfall clatter to the ground, and strangles the gnome - repeatingly picking the gnome from the ground and slamming head against the rocks. (edited)

Gwalchmai, seeing the geyser of steam shooting up next to his friend and behind his foe, whispers an incantation to mimic this image in front of the gnome bearing down on him, hoping that the crash of battle will be enough to hide the fakeness of the illusion long enough to cause the gnome to stumble backwards into the real thing.

Avrik grabs the gnome and dashes his foe's skull on the rocks until the little bearded creature stops moving. However, a dull clatter from below draws the Dwarf's attention to the ground, where Dragonfall no longer lies at the his feat, but has tumbled away into the fissure in the rock. Meanwhile, Gwalchmai feels the weave of magic twist and buck in resistance to his warping of the typically unconvincing illusion spell. His head pounds, but, for a moment, the steam appears real and the gnome tumbles into the path of the real geyser.

Seeing his flame barely scorch the little bastard of a gnome, Kazin glares at fool and begins digging through his pack. His hand eventually finding the neck of a vial of oil, pulling it out with a wicked smile on his face. The shopkeep in Sheercleft went on and on about how this oil was perfect for building and feeding a fire, in the icy mountains. All Kazin said to the man is " Any idiot can start a fire, crazy ice mountain or not, but if you want a big fucking flame sometimes you need a bit of help." Gripping the vial in his left hand he tosses it at the gnome who withstood his flames before and quickly slashes his right after it sending a blast of flames hurling toward the gnome.

The glass container shatters against the Gnome's helmet, drenching it in oil moments before Kazin's burning brand ignites the liquid. Flames blossom all over the Gnome's head and upper torso, wreathing it in fire as it falls screaming into the fissure.

Aradhel growls as the steam scalds him. He is frustrated, but a smile crawls to his face as his companions begin feeding the gnomes to the geyser. ”Yes! Let the ravenous earth consume them!” He dashes over to the last remaining gnome and attempts to putt the little bugger with the flat of his sword into the searing maw.

"Gurathag, help me, brither." The warrior didn't care for his bruises and cuts, but more for his warhammer that must be deep within the crevasse. Adrenaline and panic gripped at his heart as he moved earth about, despite the battle raging.

Leaping towards the remaining Gnome with Elven athleticism, Aradhel hops away from the crumbling rocks and sends his foe careening into the fissure with a powerful swing of his blade. There's a soft hiss as the geyser peters out and then silence falls on the crater. If there were any further Gnomes, they seem to have retreated.

Gwalchmai sits up and wipes sweat from his brow. "Well that was... something."

From behind the wizard, a soft creak can be heard as the gate to the garden swings open once more. On the far side, the same stocky, cowled man can be seen puttering about contentedly as he tends to the plants.

"Oh sure, now you open the gate back up." Mouse grumbles as he wanders around the battle field, crouching down here and there to collet arrows, or anything that looks valuable...

Mouse frisks the corpses of the fallen Gnomes in search of valuables. One appears to have a small green hand dangling from a band of leather around its neck. Another was carrying a tiny music box in its pocket.

With a quick glance, and even quicker fingers the little Halfling pockets the necklace before holding the music box up. "These fella's don't seem the type for this, must be something they took off of earlier victims."

Aradhel struts across the battlefield, pride in the group’s victory overtaking the pain of any wounds he’s sustained. He heads towards the open gate and raises his arms high. ”My apologies! Twas those sodden gnomes who sought to challenge Aradhel and company, not you. Now that they have been destroyed, shall you share in our victorious celebration in trade for sheltering our flock?”

The old man glances up from his plants at Aradhel . "Oh?" He remarks absent-mindedly, before adding, "sorry, yes. Who are you?"

The cleric comes running to his brother’s side when he calls him. His shield has a couple of arrows on ir as he was shielding the wagons from the gnomes attacks. ”I am here brother” he says ”what do you need? Are you hurt?”

"Me hammer has fa'en, thaur, an' Ah cannae reach it oan mah own." Avrik points into the fissure where heard Dragonfall call out to him.

Without a word Gurathag drops his backpack and takes out a rope and pass it to his brother. ”Do you want me to go down looking for it? I am lighter than you.”

Avrik grabs the rope and looks for a nearby object to brace against. Finding a good position, he nods to Gurathag, "Ready."

"Whoa whoa whoa!!" Mouse shouts as he approaches, his tiny hands held up in front of him. "As much as I hate to say it, I should probably be the one you lower down there. Lords know I'm a hell of a lot lighter than either of you two. We all know you damned Dwarves have bones made of stone, so don't try to deny it!"

15:27

The halflings protest came slightly too late however, as the brothers had already begun their perilous and life threatening rescue of... a hammer?

Gutharag descend is not comfortable but it wasn’t supposed to be. Between him and his brother on the surface they manage to put the dwarven cleric at the bottom of the crack. The grunts of the two dwarves and the sound of their metallic armors and gear mask the raspering sound of the rope against the rock. Once with his two feet on firm ground again, Gutharag looks around, trying to locate his brother warhammer. A faint glint of light in one corner catches his attention. ”I think I see him!” he yells to Avrik ”I am going to go for it. Give me more rope!” he asks as he starts to walk in that direction, carefully so not to provoke a landslide or more cracks to appear due to his weight.

"Carefully." Avrik says, more to himself as he follows his brother's lead and slides more rope into the darkened maw. (edited)

Moving up to the edge of the crevasse, Mouse flops down on his stomach and scoots forward to squint down into the darkness in order to shout encouragement and provide some guidance. "I know you guys grow up underground and all, but climbing back down the first chance you get is a little un called for." As Gutharag squeezes deeper in apparently having seen the lost weapon he attempts to assist with thieving advice. "Think thin rock boy!"

Aradhel cocks his head in slight annoyance at the man. ”I am Aradhel! The Devourer! My companions and I are leading this caravan from Sheercleft in search of trade and riches.” He looks around as he moves forward, taking in the garden. ”I never acquired the tender touch necessary to deal with leaves and buds, but many among my people do. Is this garden meant for food? Beauty? Poison?”

Kazin eyes still wild and sparking turn on the gardener in a strained voice he says "Devourer I'm not sure if all of our foes have been dealt with. " pointing at the man behind his gate "This one left right before the attack as if he knew it was coming. Without even so much as a beware of gnomes before hiding himself. What do you have to say for yourself? Is this how your people treat guests?"

Stone crumbles along the edges of the precipice, but Gurathag carefully navigates the ledge until he has safely reached Dragonfall. "Nonsense, I've never met you before in my life!" The gardener protests in response to Kazin's accusations. "As for you, young man," he adds, turning to Aradhel, "all of the above, if you know where to look!" The old man gives the Elf a warm smile and a wink, before beckoning him inside. Would you care to savour the fruits?"

”Got it brother!” says Gurathag securing the weapon on his belt and tying it. No good reason to let ir fall while climbing up. Carefully retracting his own steps he prepares to climb back up. ”I am going up. Make sure the rope is tight!” he says looking for a good place to start his climbing.

As the rope goes taught, a frayed length finally gives way under the wear of the sharp volcanic rocks, snapping with a taught crack before it trails away into the darkness.

Not as soon as Gurathag starts climbing and his brother puts some tension on the rope it snaps and falls into the darkness. The dwarf just step down the wall and looks up. "Avrik! You good up there? Good thing it broke when I was still down here and not in the middle of the climb. Retnik and I are going to have some words about the quality of his ropes once we are back to Shercleeft. Toss me another one!" he says while untying the broken rope of his waist. He keeps it, just to use it on his future argument with Retnik.

Aradhel returns a hungry grin. ”But of course. Come Kazin, fuel your flames with the gifts of the earth, not with paranoia.” The elf beckons as he strides into the garden.

"Welcome to my garden, Aradhel," the man beams, plucking a heavy dark fruit from a nearby bush. It is like a plum the size of an apple. "My name is Shelek," he adds, passing the fruit to his new guest.

Surprised that his companions have trusted this old man so easily, Kazin keeps his eyes focused on the "gardener". Waiving off the offered food he watches the man looking for any sign of deceit or betrayal. The man sidestepped all of his questions, only offering a denial of having met "What can you tell us of these Gnomes you must have encountered them before?" (edited)

"Aaah, tricky little creatures," Shelek agrees with a sage nod. "Cruelty's black rocks are riddled with them. Did you fall afoul of the buggers?"

Aradhel eagerly takes the fruit and sinks his fangs into the offering with an audible glomp.

"Oh shit! You Ok down there rock boy?!" The Halfling calls down, only to have his question answered almost Immediately by Gurathag's own yelling. "Hand me the end of the rope and I'll lower it down to him." Mouse offers his hand to Avrik. "I'll watch it here and let you know if it starts to fray again."

The fruit is fresh and full of juice that runs down Aradhel's chin as he eats. The taste is so refreshing that he can feel his energy and stamina returning to him.

”Delicious!” the elf exclaims, holding the fruit aloft and spraying bits of pulp from his lips. After taking another bite and gulping it down, Aradhel responds, ”Yes, the little ones ambushed us. Do you think they might try us again as we journey across this mountain?”

"Little Mouse und I are gonna get ya out." Avrik calls down to the darkness, handing the rope off, and helping anchor him to the ground. "Do it, Mouse."

Kazin can smell the aroma of the fruit juice wafting over to him from where Aradhel stands. It smells heavenly. Enough to make his mouth water. It consumes his senses making it hard to think of anything else. Outside the walls, Avrik braces to pull on the rope, but already he can feel his boots crushing the brittle, porous rock. They need to act fast before it crumbles away even more.

Avrik strains against the rope, pushing himself. Slowly, the form of Gurathag rises from the shadowed cleft with Dragonfall in tow. Only once his brother is safely free of the earth, does he speak. "I bae sure that cavin' isn't our strength." The dwarf laughs heartily, and put an appreciative hand through mouse's hair. "Thank ye, mouse."

Gutharag laughs with his brother. ”It seems it is not. Thank you friend” says to the halfling ”We appreciate your help “

"No problem, now let's go see what all the ruckus back there is about." Mouse exclaims as he motions toward the others. "Can you believe they just walked away while you were trapped deep within the earth?! Good thing I had your backs, eh guys?"

Gwalchmai laughs at Mouse's comment but shakes his head at the same time. "Yes, what kind of men are they?"

The dwarven fighter takes possession of Dragonfall, giving it a brief caress and a wordless prayer to the Allhammer. But its not long before Avrik joins the others with the hammer slung across his shoulder. (edited)

The cleric pars his shoulders to clean the dirt from the climb and thanking Moradin for having keep the stone in its place he follows Mouse and his brother

The sound of somebody softly singing rises with the steam from the fissure below. "We should get moving," Gareth grunts, reloading his crossbow as Avrik, Gurathag, Gwalchmai and Mouse reconvene. Fallen Gnomes litter the black rock crater and some of the other travellers are tending to their wounds. "Where are your friends?" (edited)

"They went through the gate, I'll go fetch them!" The little Halfling offers as his tiny legs carry him after the others. Bursting through the gate, he takes in the garden with wide eyes. "Whoa, this is pretty damned cool... Not as cool as the fact that I just single-handedly fished a dwarf from the very earth! But still pretty cool." Marching right up to the Shelek and offers his hand up to the taller man. "Greetings, I'm Mouse Dwarf Savior!"

"Good day, Mouse, Dwarf Saviour. Welcome to my garden," Shelek tells the halfling with a smile, handing him a fruit.

Avrik starts to protest, "Eh..." but lets it drop, shakin' his head. He nods to Shelek, and begins to offer his hand. Noticing its state of filth, he cleans off the dust and debris before reoffering it. "Name'es Avrik, son uf Meilyr, and this ere is me broddar, Gurathag, Servant uf the Allhammer."

”Dwarf Helper for the moment” says Gutharag with a smile ”Pleasure to meet you. You see, we have some people injured and we need shelter while we tend to them…”

Shelek warmly takes Avrik's hand, offering both of the Dwarves fruit as well. "I'm afraid I don't get many guests out here, but there's a little space that I can offer." The gardener guides anyone who follows between the trees and bushes of his garden to a steaming fountain surrounded by stone benches in the centre. All around, brilliant blue flowers are blooming.

Mouse shrugs at the Dwarves statements, "They clearly don't understand just how much of a help I was.", as he pockets the offered fruit and follows the old man through the garden. As they receive the tour, the little man's eyes dart about, not only looking for any easily transportable valuables, but also for any potential dangers. "One never knows when a tree or flower might leap out at one after all."

Kazin's mouth begins to water as hunger over takes his suspicion. His mind only thinking of the sweet aroma wafting from the garden. Cursing himself for refusing the mans offer but to prideful to ask for another. Though he is shaken out of his lust, as the rest of the crew joins them. Kazin begins to chuckle as Mouse announces himself and is roaring laughing as Gutharag names him helper. He eventually says "Dwarf Savior! I like that! From now until time itself ends, I will know you as Mouse the savior of all Dwarves. Any we meet will know your proper title." Kazin pats Gutharag on the back still chuckling to himself as he follows the gardner. (edited)

Avrik looks the fruit over, "Ah bit this woods make a brammer wine." He finds himself falling in behind Mouse, muttering quietly about Kazin's mockery, as they look through the surprisingly beautiful gardens. "Ah wonder hoo they do it. Beena so cold up ere."

The most valuable thing that Mouse can see are the unique fruits that they have been offered. Of course, stealing more might anger the gardener.

As Aradhel eats another fruit, he finds its flavour increasingly intoxicating. He yearns for more.

The others know Aradhel’s hunger to be insatiable on an average day, and spurred on by the increasingly delicious fruit he proceeds to gorge himself on as much as he can grab.

As Aradhel continues to feast, his mind drows ever foggier and his head heavy. He feels warm and rejuvenated, but incredibly drowsy.

Covered in the sweet juices, Aradhel finds himself sinking to the ground near one of the bushes, already reaching for another fruit though his rate of consumption is slowing. ”Hey guys... this fruit is great. Shelek you didn’t say... you didn’t say it gets you drunk too.” he says with a hazy chuckle.

It occurs to Avrik that the garden must, at least in part, be made possible by the volcanic soil the surrounding the hot springs. Such environments, such as in the distant northern realm of Karaz Karag, have been known to produce strange and unusual vegetation. It may not be wise for Aradhel to be feasting on the fruit as he is. However, even as he thinks this, Avrik feels the scent of nectar begin to wash over him, making his mouth water in desire.

"So we just resting here for a little bit, or am I finding a spot to sleep for the night?" Mouse pipes up, his question seemingly directed at anyone other than himself. "Gareth seems pretty keen to get moving, but I gotta say I'd definitely be alright with sleeping in this nice warm garden instead of under a wagon or something."

"Yes, let us stay in a safe haven for the night. I will place a ward around our wagons to alert us of intruders."

When Gwalchmai returns to the wagons, Gareth is tapping his foot impatiently. "What's taking you all so long in there?"

"We've decided to shelter here for the night to recuperate. I know you want to move quickly, but some of us are injured from these early setbacks. I'm going to ward our caravan. We will know if anyone approaches."

Gareth spits on the ground and mumbles something about 'trust' and 'wizards', but some of the drivers and merchants are already eagerly heading inside and he doesn't stop them.

As night falls, dreams take Aradhel and Avrik. Dreams of hearth and home. Of warm beds and good company. When the light falls on the garden the next morning, Gareth is the first to rise and prepare to leave, but the Elven barbarian and the Dwarven warrior remain in blissful slumber long after their companions.

Avrik snores loudly, dreaming of a mine full of mithril. "Moor than enough ta stai ma days." he mutters in his sleep.

The last of the guards to sit and start resting is Gutharang who finds his brother and gives him one of the fruits. "This are tasty aren't they?" he comments to him casually while checking one last time that everyone is more or less comfortable. He then undons his armor and get ready to sleep.

"Wake your brother," Gareth grunts at Gurathag as he stomps about the next morning, whipping the caravan into shape, "and where's that halfling got to?"

Crawling out from underneath a shrub Mouse stretches languidly before mumbling a good morning. "Mouse's here, where's his breakie?"

”Just five more min…” mumbles the cleric before fall asleep again

"ARADHEL, GWALCHMAI, KAZIN," Gareth barks. "Let's get moving! This isn't a pleasure trip."

After Gwalchmai is done preparing his spells for the day, he, as usual, enchants his staff and then gets moving, ready to face the next day's challenges.

Opening his eyes and remembering where he is Gutharag wakes up and gets ready. He feels rested and makes sure that the wounded and the rest of the caravan members are feeling ok to continue their journey.

Aradhel and Avrik continue to snore, regardless of the bellows that peal across the garden.

Mouse squints as Aradhel's name is shouted.. It's unlike the elf to sleep in, and very unlike him to not answer someone yelling his name, even if it's normally with a fist to the face. Moving over to his friend he positions his small form behind a solid object and shouts himself. "Oh god, it's an Orc ambush! To arms!!"

A brief panic amongst the other members of the caravan ensues, prompting Gareth to thunder over to Mouse and clap him over the top of the head. "What the bloody hell d'you think you're playing at?" The red-faced man demands. Aradhel remains stubbornly asleep. (edited)

"OW!" The halfling cries as he rubs his head. "What was that fo..." He begins to complain before noticing the drama his words began. "Oops, sorry, I was just trying to wake up Aradhel, there no Orcs attacking! Go back to your morning... Oh hey, are you going to finish that?" He attempts to explain as he moves on to shaking his ally instead.

At first Aradhel's snoring persists even through the shaking, but Mouse rattles the Elf's shoulders harder still and eventually he awakens with a start.

Gutharag shakes his brother's shoulder "C'mon Avrik. It's not like you had drank a barrel of beer"

Aradhel’s limbs whirl and flail as he is startled from his slumber. One hand grasps for the hilt of his blade and the other rubs the grogginess from his eyes. ”Wha... huh? Oh, ready to get moving then? Breakfast first?” his eyes drift over hungrily to the delicious fruit he’d gorged himself on the previous night.

After a hefty shake from his brother, Avrik also wakes groggily from the fog of his slumber.

The dwarf groans, "Me head." He slowly comes round, "Mind me ne'er to eat fruit just passed 'bout." Avrik recoils from the experience, but slowly lifts Dragonfall in his arms, "Why am ay so 'ungry. Ya got anything for vittels, Gutharag?"

The caravan departs Shelek's garden, heading onwards towards Secrets Peak. The sun whorls about but never casts light on the Face of Secrets. The trail is a crumble of shale across the steep slope, the peak stabs directly upwards. The cold here is deep, and those who keep secrets are not safe from the wind. High above, some kind of flock circles, like slow-moving specks against the cirrus clouds. (edited)

Mouse squints up at the circling flock. "Isn't it a little cold up here for birds?"

Gwalchmai stares up at the peak stabbing upward into the clouds and feels as if it stares right back into him, chilling his blood and raising the hair on the back of his neck. You are empty inside--a hollowed out mine shaft bereft of the precious metals that should have resided there. Cold like the heart of an ancient mountain. Shallow as a feeble creek in the heat of summer. You must be broken and new life poured in. Mouse's question snaps him out of his trance. Did it just...? No. That's crazy. (edited)

Gutharang looks up and grunts ”Maybe they are looking for some dead animal”

Mouse's eyes grow wide as they move from the flock to the peak itself. "Uh guys... I don't think those are birds... Have any of you ever heard of storm seals, because I think we're about to get reeeeal close to one of their nests." He announces as he lifts his finger to point it out. The Face of Secrets catches sunlight and glints like a jewel. It appears topped by a great sphere of water, tens of yards in diameter. A thin crust of ice and slush ripples in strong wind.

As the caravan winds along the mountainside, passing beneath the nest atop the Face of Secrets, the storm seal flock drifts ever closer. High above, their minnows can be spotted wriggling through the water.

Shivering as he glances up at the storm seal flock, Kazin finds himself missing the peaceful warm sands of Sarameia. But a smile crosses his face as Mouse speaks "Think we can scare them off or are we in for a fight?"

"No idea." The halfling answers with a shrug. "I can fire an arrow across their bow, but that's just as likely to antagonize them, I'd think. Probably best just to keep an eye on them and be ready if they do attack, since we can't exactly go around em."

Shrugging he says "Well at least we will have a bit of entertainment as we trek. If it comes to it I've found that most beasts fear the flame, and a bit of warmth would certainly be a vast improvement to this endless cold and snow" (edited)

Gwalchmai swallows at himself for even thinking of doing this, but the thoughts in his head leave him wanting to rail against his instincts. "I....I might be able to do something. It will take some time, but maybe I can scare them off." He wracks his brain for ideas. Maybe a lightning storm up above. But could he do that? And what if they all go caught in it?

It's clear to Gwalchmai that this would be possible, but he and his allies would also risk danger from the storm. High above, the flock of storm seals swims closer to the interlopers approaching their nest.

”Why do you all fret? If they dare strike at us, we will simply rend them from the air with arrow and blade and flame.” Aradhel says with a matter of fact shrug.

"Bess ta avoi 'em." Avrik chimes in. He didn't have a problem with a fight, but not keen on fighting flying things.

Kazin shrugs and with a smile says " It would be a shame to miss out on the chance to try the surely delectable taste of grilled stormseal!" chuckling to himself he says "But you are right it is best to avoid them. Gwalchmai please work your magics"

”Too many of ‘hem “ agrees Gutharag with the others

"Okay then. I need everyone to start chanting the phrase 'Ohmshula svengasko ohmshala benost' while I cast the ritual." As the party members start chanting, Gwalchmai draws a large hexagram in the snow and places a caravan member at each point. He stands in the middle and opens his spellbook to a page with storm and wind motifs and begins to recite the words on the page. As he speaks the words aloud, he applies his will to bend the wind towards the mountain from above their location, hoping that, if the weather gets out of control, it will travel away from them. (edited)

Mouse sighs as he pulls his bow from his back and knocks and arrow before turning his eyes to the sky. "If we didn't have the rock brothers with us, I'd say we should sneak around them..." He grumbles, mostly to himself.

High above the mountain's peak, dark clouds swirl and billow as Gwalchmai leads the caravan in chanting his incantation. The wind rapidly picks up, provoking a raucous chorus of barks from the storm seals as they ascend to circle their nest. Then, with an almighty crack, lightning strikes the Face of Secrets, sending a hail of stones tumbling towards the caravan from above.

"Well that's our cue to roll out!" Gwalchmai yells as he runs to get the carts moving again to try to get past the rockslide. (edited)

"Gods damn it!" Mouse cries as he dives under one of the heavy wagons. "This is why stealth is always the best option!"

Aradhel gives himself two great slaps on his bare chest, then exhales a burst of steam from his nostrils as he prepares for the falling rocks. As one of the boulders hurdles towards him and the cart behind him Aradhel attempts to intercept the projectile, diverting its course to the side and sending it out of the cart’s path. Unfortunately for the elf the boulder that finds him is much larger than he expected. He catches the rock, but it takes him from his feet and slams him into the snow, pinned. (edited)

Avrik attempts to help push the carts along to get them moving quickly. He puts his back into it finally dislodging the wheel being wedged by a rock. The sudden lack of resistance send the cart rushing down the path faster than the dwarf intended. (edited)

Pushing one of the drivers away he tries to use his shield to protect the driver and himself from one falling boulder

As he sees the rocks begin to fall Kazin inhales deeply. Letting the cold air fill his lungs, as it makes it's way to his fiery core. In a flash he exhales and attempts to manifest his powers in a fiery shield to help deflect the falling rocks.

Safe and secure under his completely immobile wagon, Mouse is surprised to find that it is in fact moving. "GODS DAMN IT!" He bellows, even louder than before, as he he scrambles to grab quickly grab a hanging rope. With a quick tug he loops it around his arm as he wedges a toe into a knot whole and hoists his tiny body off the ground, allowing the wagon to carry him away with it. "There is no way this could possibly end well." He thinks as he dodges rocks and other road debris as best he can.

Gwalchmai sees the wagons get underway much quicker than expected and notices they are rolling downhill, making for an unexpectedly quick getaway--so quick that they are rolling right past him leaving him vulnerable to the rockslide. As the last wagon is rolling past, he jumps, attempting to leap into the wagon so as not to be left behind. He grabs on successfully, rolling into the open bed amongst the cargo. (edited)

As Gurathag, Gwalchmai and Mouse are carried away on the wagons. Aradhel, Avrik and Kazin are rapidly left behind on the stormy mountainside. The Elven barbarian is still trapped beneath the boulder that has him pinned to the ground.

Avrik watches as his brother is whisked away. He starts to run after him, but notices the elf pinned. Knowing the allfather's words, even for the pompous elf, the dwarf turns toward Aradhel and tries to lift the stones to get him free. He strains but a moment to lift the rock, and it is tossed aside making a resounding noise as it tumbles down the mountainside. (edited)

Avrik and Kazin help Aradhel to his feat and hurry after the wagons, which have almost slowed to a halt after the gradient of the mountain path sent them swinging down and back up again as they curve around the mountain and away from the arcane storm and thronging, flying seals. At the top of the pass, the trail crosses a ridge slung between two mist-shrouded peaks. On a clear day like today, the lowlands on the far side of the mountains can be seen.

The dwarf breathes in hard from the run, "Ya gno' we dwarves ar' natural asprintars. Vary deadly o'r ashort distances." Avrik coughs, and sucks in more air. "Hail dere, brodir."

2

Crawling out from under the stopped wagon Mouse scowls around as he picks splinters from his fingers. "I say we turn around and go back. The Gods obviously don't want us to go where ever we're trying to go."

"Don't be a fool," Gareth snaps at Mouse, gesturing out over the expansive Wentwood that carpets the lands beyond the mountains. "Stick to the road. We'll be in Quenlan before you know it." Clicking to the donkey pulling the cart, he nods to the driver to follow the track down the mountainside and into the dense pine forest.