Fantasy DUNGEON DELVER: Secrets of Caedia — Expedition #5, The Frozen Waste

[Elenion Aura]

DUNGEON DELVER

Secrets of Caedia

A Voice in the Dark

"Secrets hidden by frost...

Wherefore does the slumbering world awaken?"

• XXXXXX1

• 「 #5 」
  THE FROZEN WASTE

  The Frostwardens are a sworn brotherhood of Delvers who have dedicated their lives to guarding the desolate, icy wastes that stretch endlessly beneath the world’s surface. Theirs is a land of perpetual cold, where the very air freezes in the lungs, and the ground is blanketed in snow and frost.
  
  According to ancient legend, eons ago, a catastrophic Ice Age nearly consumed half the continent. In the aftermath, when the last of the ice began to melt, the Frostwardens were founded, tasked with a singular purpose: to stand guard over this frozen realm and ensure that the horrors of the past would never return.
  
  Yet, the world above has moved on, and the memories of frost-covered fields and frozen corpses have faded into myth. Fewer and fewer Delvers choose to give up their chance at glory, fame, and fortune to guard a frozen wasteland that many believe poses no real threat.
  
  Recently, the Delving Guild captured a Frostwarden deserter in Closter attempting to flee the city. Half-mad, he spoke of ice and darkness. While his words were dismissed out of hand, the Guild ordered a small reconnaissance party of Delvers to make contact with the Frostwardens and inform them that their deserter had been found.
  

「 #5 」

OST 1 — MAIN THEME

 

[Elenion Aura]

INTO THE UNKNOWN

Dungeon Revelations

The process of entering through Caedia to one of the Dungeons beneath it is known to be an, at best, disorienting and, at worst, traumatizing experience, especially for first-time Delvers. It is a sensation unlike anything else, as the pit of Caedia transports the persons who stand atop its surface—mind, body, and soul—from one plane of existence to another...

 

[Elenion Aura]

The Frozen Waste, Dungeons under Caedia

The world around them shifted with a nauseatitng lurch as they passed—most of them for the very first time—through the portal of Caedia. What began with the familiar glow of torchlight and the warm, earthen walls of Caedia's subterranean chamber, twisted, turned, the air around them snapping into a biting chill. As if the very ground had dropped out from beneath their feet—space and time warping, compressing, then suddenly expanding again.

And then, the cold.

A frigid wind howled past the fledgling Delvers as they stumbled onto the frozen wastes, the portal from whence they came vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. The Delvers stood now on the edge of the world. or so it felt. Before them, the steppes stretched out in every direction, a vast expanse of snow and ice, broken only by jagged peaks and cliffs that towered into the slate-gray sky.

Above, clouds hung low and heavy. The distant sun, barely a sliver on the horizon. Snow softly fell, flakes spinning in the wind before landing on the piling banks, vanishing into endless white.

At their feet lay the entrance to a long, stone bridge, slick with black ice. It stretched out before them, a narrow path across a bottomless chasm, flanked by frozen cliffs. And at the far end, partly obscured by the swirl of snow, stood a towering black-stone keep. Its walls loomed, stark and imposing, its towers reaching skyward like jagged, rotting teeth. This was the ancestral fortress of these lands, kept by the Frostwardens, those who swore to steward and guard this frozen wasteland.

There was no welcome. No sentries stood guard at the bridge to greet them. The gate of the keep, visible even from this distance, was closed tight. The wind whistled through the crags and the hollows. Only the cold winds and falling snows moved in this desolate place.

Their mission was simple enough: make contact with the Frostwardens, and return, assuring the world above that all was well...

Interactions: BriiAngelic pendog Kwayzar Topless Love_In_Idleness Lekiel Maverick.

Code by Serobliss

 

[Topless]

Godfried Losery
Interactions: Elenion Aura

The cold never bothered Godfried. The welcoming cold breeze did not ever bothered him the slightest. He knew that when the deserted Frostwarden had made himself known, he had already expected the trip would be very, very chilling. He had steeled himself to resist the frosty atmosphere of the frost lands as he and his companions made their way to the black-stone keep where the rest of the Frostwardens lied. Godfried blew, his breath already turned into icy crystals when the air escaped his mouth.

Their objective was to bring the Frostwarden back to the keep. Simple. But then something about what he said did not sit well with the Crown Sorcerer. "Ice and darkness" is what he spoke up. He could think up a few interpretations as to what he said. The most prominent one of them would be the coming of a great blizzard that might cause calamity over Closter. Godfried doubted that could happen, but yet it is within the realm of possibility.

He would think of the theories later once he took notice of the bridge and how strangely barren it is. "No guards, how unusual..." He quietly spoke "And I thought Frostwardens were very tough when it comes to the cold."

 

[BriiAngelic]

• Mercury Solheim-Roxas || Child of Heroes

• 
  
  
  
  
  Interacting With/Mentions:
  Everyone ( Topless Love_In_Idleness Maverick. Lekiel Kwayzar pendog ) World ( Elenion Aura )
  
  

  ~ THE FROZEN WASTE ~
  
  Mercury’s CS || Voids
  
  The frozen cold was her own personal hell. The chill dug deep into her bones and wrung out her soul in the way the most somber melodies would do. Solemn and quiet with not a single person for a guide, in a land like this she could see where people might want to flee from such a sight.
  
  Still deserters were deserters. She couldn’t imagine giving your oath for life and then deciding one morning it wasn’t for you. Perhaps if her parents were more like that deserter they would have lived but they would have lost their spark and their drive.
  
  “Well looks like there’s no welcome wagon for us. The guards are probably looking for the deserter and maintaining their positions around the fort right?”
  
  She didn’t personally think it was unusual that a disturbance to the routine would happen when they lose members but she was far less versed in the ways of this place.
  
  What she did know was that it was damn cold and that was an issue. She brought out her instrument and began to strum.
  
  “Gather round guys. I don’t know about you but I’m not digging this cold so it’s time for concerto number well it’s not one but feel free to feel it in your bones anyways”
  
  Behind her other instruments appeared as the they formed a harmony. She sung as loud as she could letting the sound reach the others in the only way she knew how.
  
  “There's no beauty without ends
  No creation with no mends
  A new silent wish, will cast aside our pain
  Distancing side by side in vain”
  
  In her spellsong she layered in warmth fighting off the chill of ice and snow around them.
  

 

[pendog]

Expedition #5

MARIGOLD MERRYHILL

HALFLING CLERIC

THE FROZEN WASTES, Dungeons under Caedia

COUGHhacckhack, wheeeeezee, coughcoUGH—

Well, this bloody sucked.
Marigold drank more last night than some tallmen would ever drink in their entire lives—in one night!—but she could still walk herself to her bed afterwards just fine! No wobblin, no slurrin, no darn fuss at all. And yet. And yet! One step through that portal...and Marigold suddenly found herself shaking on her knees. It was like she had just aten something foul, her stomach feeling all sorts of wrong.

Actually, scratch that. "...Urgh...!" This was somehow even worse than that. It was like someone had picked her insides apart, then tried to put her back right and dandy again. And. Okay! Sure, she was technically right and dandy! Marigold didn't FEEL like anything was...outta place. Not that she'd ever felt an organ or rib outta place before. But Marigold would probably know it was! And she didn't. Which, again, still didn't with the fact that Marigold felt like she was about to lose her lunch AND her elevenses. "Aesyr below...a kick in the gut, and it's colder than a well digger's fanny out here? I thought His footsteps would be a little EASIER to start followin'..." But Marigold was NOT going to start her adventuring days with a hurl. Her dignity would never allow it. So, like a big girl,

She pulled herself onto her feet with a grumble, Marigold gathering next to the party's bard. "I'm with you on that one, Mercury!" She huffed. A shudder followed quickly after. "Brrrrr...our wizard over there looks like he's fine, but at least I'm built for warmer weathers than this." The others looked fine, anyways. Mercury and Godfried were already talking about the quest they were on, Marigold tuning in to the conversation. "An' speaking o' warm. About the lovely welcome this lot's giving us..." She turned her gaze down the bridge, "...I don't know much 'bout wardening, now, but I thought the point is to—well, I mean. Guard. Forgetting your big-front-doors feels like a bit of an oversight, don't it?" Marigold finished her thoughts, plucking her pipe from her coat pocket with a small sigh of relief. The spellsong was doing wonders for her already. already. Now, if she could find her lighter, she'd be really right and dandy... "Well, no sense in waiting! Why don't we just go 'head then and knock—?"

Ah, damn. No lighter. "...Ah, gods damn it..." Her eyes flickered over to Crown Sorcerer. "Godfried, you think you can spot a gal a flame? To settle the stomach, ahah..."

Code by Serobliss

 

[Lekiel]

Drifts As The Wind, The Unstoried Bard

“Ed’ i’ear ar’ elenea!” A melodic exclamation in a foreign language lilted from behind the gathering of delvers, “giant ice cubes and cold sand!” The low alto voice continued with quiet wonder, as a petite figure cloaked in green strode out towards the front most members of their troop. A hood hid away most of her ginger hair except for a couple of braids peeking out the front, around her waist and arms, what seemed like tiny bells hung on weathered delicate chains bobbed curiosly without a single tinkle to her steps. A peculiarly decorated wooden marionette hanging from a brace on her back completed the young woman’s garish ensemble. “What a sight! I can already imagine the first line of this epic story. The dread of cold, howling winds racing across the chasm our heroic bard would’ve heard if her ears had not frozen solid. The ruined bridge, held together with naught but—”

Realizing she had come up alongside the slender ‘crown mage’ who called himself Godfried, Drifts As The Wind stopped herself in her tracks, “Pardon me, I have only just realized I’ve never been in such a. . .place before,” the woman let out an unwitting shiver, her body’s subconscious memory not quite accustomed to such blustery weather.

"No guards, how unusual..." Godfried quietly spoke "And I thought Frostwardens were very tough went it comes to the cold."

“Well Drifts can certainly imagine why! Brrr! It’s c-cold!” The ginger haired woman chirped, offering her unsolicited opinion with zero shame despite the cold, “even if Drifts could stand it, she wouldn’t be caught standing out here waiting with a ‘warm’ welcome. . . ‘war m’ hah hah-! Geddit?” Drifts chuckled to herself, as she continued onwards towards the bridge seemingly oblivious to the ominous implications of their mission. A grin curled on her lips even as she clutched her arms about herself tighter against the cold, “come my valiant friends, can’t make contact with our ice-luvin buddies if we’re just standing here.”

◇ ◇ ◇
Interactions: Topless
CS: Drifts

 

[Kwayzar]

Expedition #5

MINTHRA

REBORN WARLOCK

THE FROZEN WASTE, DUNGEONS UNDER CAEDIA

Depressing is the word Minthra would use to describe the barren land that layed before her, void of any colors other than black, grey, and an endless sea of white. Not a single spec of life in sight; Not even the Frostwardens are anywhere to be seen. Hell if not for her companions, Minthra would've looked more alive than anything else in the blizzard encrusted wasteland. If this was all she saw every single day for years, it’d probably whittle away at her sanity too.

The scenery wasn't the only thing that bothered Minthra. She shared the same sentiments as her companions regarding the cold. Though it wasn't the bitter chill of the wind she had a problem with. Rather she was more worried about the ever-present stiffness of her body if anything. It wasn't like Minthra was particularly dexterous to begin with, so becoming an icicle was a justified fear of hers at the moment.

A fear that was rather short lived as the warmth of red one's voice washed over her. It felt pleasant. It's not often Minthra could say that. And clearly she wasn't the only one pleased with the bard's singing, seeing as how even the little one that sounded like she was on the verge of croaking started to look better.

Minthra stepped in closer to Mercury, her flame tilting foward slightly. “My little ball of fire isnt exactly as hot as some tend to think, far from it honestly, so the warmth is appreciated.”

Minthra’s attention shifted towards her companions further along the narrow bridge, Godfried and Drifts. Although the orange one made little more than jokes, at least one thing she said was sensible. “The orange one and the little one are right, we shouldn't linger here too long. The faster we find one of those wardens the sooner we can relieve ourselves of this mess.”

White Minthra didn't Want to spend longer than necessary being a glorified messenger; she had another reason for her impatience. As soon as she set foot into that pit, into caedia she could feel something's eyes on her. It started off as a passing glance, not unlike the ones she got up in closter, but when the ground beneath her warped into frost-laden stone; For a mere moment it changed. The eyes became fixated on her. Their gaze suddenly turned into an invasive leer Minthra couldn't hide from. It faded as quickly as it came, yet the eyes still lingered.

Nevertheless, Minthra had a job to do. All she could hope for was that it would be over soon.

Code by Serobliss

 

[Love_In_Idleness]

Hannelore Feravaen - cursed cleric

The job was in a place called the 'Frozen Wastes' and their mission was to return a Frostwarden to where it belonged. Based on those cues, Hannelore had spent what little coin she had on a set of warmer gear - her simple cloak was crisp white, but the inside lined with fox fur that complimented her ginger hair. Green mitts covered delicate hands and long fingers, and she wore three pairs of socks which had resulted in quite the struggle when it came to getting on her boots. The tunics she had brought with her from home were thick and large, capable of layering over other garments which was exactly what she did.

All in all, she had come as prepared as she could to face down the biting cold of the frigid hellscape within the dungeon but even with all her preparations, she still found herself wishing she could have done more. Between the terrible temperature and the discomfort of teleportation, Hannelore was out of sorts and not at all feeling that rush of excitement she had expected for her first ever quest.

While the others mumbled and murmured about the miserable circumstances of their mission, Hannelore kept her own unease (physical and mental) quiet for now, instead scanning the bridge while the hairs along the back of her neck prickled in alarm at the lack of life visible guarding the Fortress. Her eyes went towards the impressive and imposing Keep and she felt something heavy settle in the pit of her stomach. She pressed a hand to her belly and nibbled at her bottom lip in anxious thought. There should be sentinels at the very least, yes?

Unfamiliar with any of those she was accompanying except perhaps a few names exchanged moments before arrival, Hannelore didn't speak her own concerns yet, letting the others discuss their next move, her eyes skipping around as if she was trying to keep track of everything happening around her.

Lavella above, she had never felt so out of her depths.

 

[Maverick.]

Expedition #5

SOL'LOCHAR BURRIUND

DROW MONK

THE FROZEN WASTES, Dungeons under Caedia

Sol’lochar Barriund could no longer feel his feet. And yet, he danced.

Merc’s voice patted at his numb ears through the fabric of his hood, the cloth muffling the sound of her song. Though his toes had frozen, he knew exactly where to place them. His feet twirled and scuffed at the icy ground beneath him, his body thrown in a seemingly drunken, yet strangely graceful dance.

He smiled as he spun, a breath of frosty air escaping his mouth in a chuckle. He couldn’t be more indifferent to the goal of this mission. It was not his first delve, and it wouldn’t be his last, yet he hadn’t come into quite a circumstance such as this; the stakes were low, and the danger seemed nonexistent. As far as Sol was concerned, he and his party were glorified messengers. This would be the easiest mission he’d ever take part in, that he was sure of.

In a party full of magic wielders, he felt slightly out of place, but that kind of thing rarely bothered him. Especially not now—his senses were calmed, and his spirits were high.

Others around him were talking, their voices holding subtle hints of confusion and uncertainty, though none of it concerned Sol. Once the bard’s song ceased, Sol steadied himself, his chapped lips spreading into a grin.

“Freezing,” he agreed amongst the chatter of his party’s voices. “In and out, there’s seriously nothing to mess up—even if we tried. Piece of cake. We’ll be out and in a warm tavern in no time.”

Sol strode ahead, nearly skipping in his gait, balancing expertly on the balls of his feet. He blinked once to clear the flurries of snow from his eyelashes, taking in the terrain around him with a shrug. It was as the others had said: desolate. The party was alone. According to Sol’s quick and careless calculation, this was the best case scenario. Not an enemy in sight, no danger ahead.

“Marigold is right, one knock on the door, a quick ‘hey guys, guess what, blah blah’ and we’re out of here,” Sol said, falling into step for a moment beside Drifts, walking backwards, his arms out. “No point drawing it out.”

He spun back around and, catching sight of the gates, Sol took off, jogging straight for it.

Code by Serobliss

 

[Topless]

Godfried Losery
Interactions: BriiAngelic pendog Lekiel

Mercury's bardsong have just made the mission much more bearable now that everyone has felt a lot warmer. "Your song is as beautiful to hear as ever Mercury." Godfried complimented her before he got approached by Marigold, who kindly asked him for a light for her pipe. "Very well, hold your pipe still." He said to her and with a few simple clicks of his fingers, a small flame appeared on his finger tip. Truly a simple magic trick one can accomplish in little time. He lowered his flaming finger into the hole of the pipe with just enough to light up the contents. He quickly shook his hand to snuff the flame out.

When it was about time for the group to start moving, Drifts thought it would be a good idea to joke a bit. Godfried did not laugh, nor he felt the need to scold her. Instead, he let out a small grin. As she made her way to the bridge ahead of the group, Godfried watched her for a moment. Out of all the people he's been with, Drifts is the one person that somehow made him feel something. Looking at her, listening to her, she may be one of the bards and one of the unique personalities to see in the guild, Godfried could not help but wonder something.

Why does Drifts remind him of her?

Godfired immediately snapped himself back to reality as he glanced at the group and said "Let's move. I don't think Mercury's spell can last long." He would then went ahead to the bridge, expecting the rest to follow suit. "And Mari, keep your pipe when we get there. Good first impressions are important after all." He said to the halfling.

 

[Elenion Aura]

The Frozen Waste, Dungeons under Caedia

The Delvers made their way across the stone bridge, the sound of their boots crunching frost the only noise, apart from the persistent howl of wind whipping through the crags. Still, no movement was visible either at the gate or along the walls.

As they neared the edge of the bridge, they saw two paths ahead: the priamry way leading directly to the keep's front gate. A second, narrower trail snaked along the side of the mountain slope, descending sharply before vanishing behind the cliffs.

That was when the ground began to rumble.

A guttural roar split the air, followed by the echoing thud of massive footfalls. Before long, an enormous figure emerged from out of the driving storm—an Ice Troll, standing twice the height of any man, jagged ice clinging to its pale flesh. Its eyes gleamed with hatred as it bellowed out in a voice like winter thunder.

"Kazgûl'ukh! Grak'tar bûsh kanzû!" The troll's ancient spell unraveled in the frozen air.

A towering pillar of ice along the cliffside exploded, sending shards of snow and ice cascading down onto the group of Delvers, forcing them to scatter as the debris rained down. But the force of the blast dislodged a massive sheet of snow and ice, which avalanched down the mountainside, driving the Delvers even further apart.

The first group, nearest to the gate, were left to contend with the Frost Troll as it lumbered toward them. The second had found their way to the sloping mountain pass, their way back blocked by a wall of snow and ice, too dense to climb or cross quickly.

Expedition #5

ICE TROLL

TERRITORIAL TERROR

Group 1: Mercury, Hannelore, Godfried & Sol’lochar

The troll advanced toward the group at the gate, dragging a massive club of frozen wood and bone behind it.

"Grak’zul! Grahk toknâr!" the troll bellowed, swinging its icy club down with the force of an avalanche.

Dungeon Encounter
DC: 4​

(Ice Troll) Roll 1d20 = 4​

The lumbering creature is powerful, but slow. Its wild swinging club is best to be avoided, however, it is vulnerable to counterattack once its stroke has fallen!

Interactions: BriiAngelic Love_In_Idleness Topless Maverick.

Expedition #5

RIMEFROST WOLF

PACK HUNTERS

GROUP 2: Drifts, Minthra & Marigold

Meanwhile, the group that found themselves sprawled on the narrow mountain path heard the faintest of howls upon the wind. This was their only warning, before they were beset upon by a pack of charging Rimefrost Wolves, their pale forms darting across the show like white shadows.

The leading wolf leapt, lunging toward the nearest Delver, its maw wide, teeth bared, aiming to spill warm blood from a soft throat.

Dungeon Encounter
DC: 7​

(Rimefrost Wolf) Roll 1d20 = 7​

The Rimefrost Wolf's teeth bared, strike at the nearest Delver. The howls of its packmates alert the group to the danger, affording them ample time to prepare to mount a defense!

Interactions: Lekiel Kwayzar pendog

 

[Topless]

Godfried Losery
Interactions: Elenion Aura BriiAngelic pendog Lekiel Kwayzar Maverick. Love_In_Idleness

The trek through the bridge had went smoothly. The structure surprisingly held up well despite the extreme conditions. One snap could have doomed the party at all. It would seemed that things should be going well, or so they thought. Upon reaching the forked path, they heard a loud roar and the earth shook. "Looks like we may have found the reason for the lack of a welcoming party..." Godfried spoke, voicing his subtle dread. Out from the harsh blizzard came a hulking ice troll, standing twice as tall as the average man and he seemed to be not pleased with the party's presence.

A pillar of ice emerged from the cliff side and it exploded into shards and debris. The party would scatter to avoid the falling objects, but then came an avalanche that further separated the group. When everything calmed down, Godfried took a good look at the party and noticed that three of them, Drifts, Minthra and Marigold, are missing. "Damn it, Drifts, Minthra and Mari got split off." He said in annoyance just as the troll made his charge at the group, ready to swing down his heavy club. "Look out!" Godfried yelled before he would dive out of the club's vicinity to avoid getting pancake'd.

When he does, he would get up and attempt to retaliate by using his magic to set his staff on fire. He would release a stream of flames at the troll, and while doing so, he would glance at Sol and yell "Sol! Knock him out quickly! This spell will not last long!"

 

[Maverick.]

Expedition #5

SOL'LOCHAR BURRIUND

DROW MONK

THE FROZEN WASTES, Dungeons under Caedia

Sol felt the earth buzz beneath his feet before it shifted. Where once was the singing of wind and the chatter of his companions, a new cacophony of splintering ice and shifting snow rang out across the tundra. Sol followed the din with his own sound, a string of expletives muttered under his breath.

“Why couldn’t just one thing by easy for the first time in—where the fuck are you guys going?” Sol shouted as the party became separated, an avalanche of snow splitting the group. With three of his companions cut off from the rest of them, Sol felt icy stones of dread drop into the bottom of his stomach. Despite the cold, beads of sweat now pooled at the small of his back. “Okay, awesome, this is so cool.”

With a sharp intake of breath, Sol watched as the Troll raised its club, spitting cutting phrases to them in its own language, and moving to smash the earth before them. Sol would roll out of the way as an act of evasion, praying that his nimbleness would serve him enough to save himself from the strike.

Once back on his feet, balancing on the balls of his thin slippers, he took stock of his party. Only three remained with him, and the slim number made his brow knit in worry. A sorcerer, a bard, and a cleric. And him, with his fists, and not much else.

The sound of Godfried’s voice snapped Sol’s head to attention, and suddenly his amber eyes were lit aglow by the stream of the sorcerer’s flame.

“I—what? Why me? You see the size of that thing? What makes you think I want…” Sol’s shout trailed off, and he rolled his eyes, pushing out a sigh in Godfried’s direction. “Okay, yes, that’s actually a pretty good idea.”

Sol rolled up his sleeves, steadied his breathing, and raised his fists. The tips of his fingers were numb as he clenched them into his palms. He flexed his toes, readying his stride. One slip on the icy landscape would mean lots of trouble very quickly.

“Fine!” he shouted, pointing a finger back at his party. He gave a nod to Godfried, and then another to Mercury and Hannelore. “If one of you could spot us some cover while I get close to this guy, that would be a welcome sight to run back to!”

If I make it that far.

Sol would dart forward, his feet flying, as he made a beeline toward the legs of the troll, ducking beneath Godfried’s stream of flames as he did so. He would whip around behind the beast, positioning himself across from the troll’s calf, and swing his fist at the back of its knee with all his might, attempting to knock its leg out from under it.


Interactions: Elenion Aura BriiAngelic Topless Love_In_Idleness

Code by Serobliss

 

[Love_In_Idleness]

Hannelore was caught in the icy blast - on the edge of it. Sent sprawling backwards and away from the other three, she was a bit slower to take stock of the situation as she clambered back onto her feet, double checking herself for any injuries. Ice could be sharp as glass sometimes...

Thankfully, the only damage was a hole to her cloak, and nothing that required any attention given their current predicament.

The wizard was already fast at work, sending a torrent of flame towards the troll with his staff, and the Drow was rushing the thing head on with... No visible weapons.

Hannelore didn't swear, but she was sorely tempted to try one out in that moment.

The hiss of metal sliding free from a scabbard came from beneath the clerics cloak as she brandished a fine Elven made short sword in her right hand, and a shield featuring the silver tree of Lavella on her left. She was no paladin, and she had only ever seen combat in controlled training sessions, but a cleric had to be able to get to the injured, and that sometimes met crossing a field of battle.

Her blade likely would not be more than an annoyance to the beast, but it would likely divide it's focus further and allow the fire to burn through the Trolls tough hide, or allow Sol to knock it out... Somehow.

With little more hesitation, Hannelore charged into the fray, flanking the beast with a whispered spell ready to cast on her lips.

 

[BriiAngelic]

• Mercury Solheim-Roxas || Child of Heroes

• 
  
  
  
  
  Interacting With/Mentions:
  Group A + Minthra (Before Split)( Topless Love_In_Idleness Maverick. Kwayzar ) World ( Elenion Aura )
  
  

  ~ THE FROZEN WASTE ~
  
  Mercury’s CS || Grown-up's Paradise
  
  Despite the frigid chill, Mercury couldn’t be more at home as the strain continued to echo around her. She gave Minthra a nod as the other spoke of finding the wardens quickly. As Sol spoke of a warm tavern she already was thinking of what lovely drinks she’d order.
  
  “If we’re lucky we won’t get stuck with paperwor-”
  
  Her words were interrupted as the bellows of an ice troll permeated the wasteland. She brought her hands to her ears trying to avoid listening to whatever the troll was shouting. Yet its words brought down the land around her snapping her out of her momentary pause. The instruments around her faded as her concentration shattered with her single-minded break away from the snow torrent. She took a tumble barely managing to clear the hazard.
  
  “SHIT! You FUCKING bitch!”
  
  The sting of the snow’s pinpricking cold would have to be brushed off as they immediately found themselves in danger. She pushed off the ground with a force that got her back to her feet as she did a quick inventory of who was left in the vicinity. She heard the call of Godfried listing off the ones missing from the group and did her best to twist back at the giant’s swing.
  
  “Split off or caught in the avalanche?”
  
  But there wasn’t time for an answer as a plan was naturally falling together. Or more people will be people and all you could do as an adventurer was work to keep up. With two charging into the frey she took a deep breath in summoning forth her spell once again. Strength and Defense were needed so with all her soul she began the Strain of pursuit once again.
  
  “Where is our tomorrow?
  Where does our future go?”
  
  

 

[Lekiel]

Drifts As The Wind, The Unstoried Bard

For the first time since she woke up on the shores of Closter with the waters of the southern-most sea still lapping in her ears, Drifts felt her blood turn searing cold. Whatever tale that had been titillating from her lips all but drowned by the howling winds.

She felt the chill not at the first bone-jarring roar, but at the first sight of the creature that approached the group menacingly, it awoke something within the Hinokian puppeteer. To say the cold clutching fingers that crept down her spine leaving it glowering with cold sweat was fear, would be a huge err.

Nay, the ice in her veins was like a bracing glacier spring. A kind that spread through her every fibre of being, as if this terrifying facedown was exactly where she'd been born to be. All the more it befuddled the ginger-haired woman, trying to make sense of the strange emotions from where she stood, frozen not with fear as she ought to feel but with a kind of prolepsis for the inevitability of violent confrontation.

But the moment was interrupted. So rooted on the spot she'd been that the bard almost missed the called warnings. Drifts looked up only just in time for a harried backflip, to retreat away from the avalanche of frosty debris.

“Well, that's. . . rather eventful,” Drifts turned around to the other two, once the avalanche had settled. Her cheeks were flushed red and her breaths in cold billowing puffs. "I suppose we'll have to take the longer route!"

유 유 유​

Eager to rejoin their companions, the trio found a narrow mountain path that seemed to lead in the right direction. But no sooner had they traversed its snowy drifts when new perils beset them in the form of large snowy white wolves charging swiftly through the snow.

“Uuma ma’ ten’ rashwe, ta tuluva a’ lle*,” The bard muttered in the language of her peoples. Her sing-song tone bearing a kind of casual confidence, as if having to face multiple oversized hungry wolves had been stipulated in the job description all along.
*One need not find trouble, for trouble will always find you. -Hinokian saying

“Drifts will take the front,” the bard stepped forward almost eagerly as she raised her hands and wrung them like the beginning of some kind of folk dance. The tiny bells lining her clothing began a rhythmic tinkle, finally sounding with the deft movements of the bard, “this story's just begun and I wouldn't want to miss a second of it”.

Seemingly unarmed and defenceless, she strode forwards into the leaping jaws of death, then at the last moment, a clapped beat and chime of tiny bells, the wooden marionette that had been harnessed to the Hinokian's back twitched and sprung to life. It darted over the diminutive woman's shoulder, at the same time the bard side-stepped the charging wolf. There was a glint of silver and ring of sharpened steel, a pained canine yelp as ribbons of crimson stained the cottony snow. The first of the pack lay dead, neck nearly severed by a precise and extremely sharp cut. With a flourish, the marionette landed, seemingly no evidence of any hidden knives amidst the puffy sleeves of its jester's coat.

“Come on you two, lend Drifts a hand would you, for there is much to do!”



◇ ◇ ◇
Notes: Not sure if I'm allowed to ‘one-shot’ the first wolf like that but it seemed fairly reasonable. Let me know if that should be changed!

Interactions: Kwayzar pendog

 

[King Crimson]

Expedition #5

FAURE

HUMAN RANGER

The Frozen Wastes, Dungeons under Caedia

As the first wolf falls, another sails through the air towards the hapless delvers, it's forelegs outstretched with claws meant to burrow, pin and maim, ivory, blade-like teeth exposed in a murderous snarl, and piercing, blue eyes locked onto it's prey's jugular.
But far before it's teeth can reach their intended target, the wolf's flight is swiftly intercepted, as a large, furred boot drops down on it's snout, returning it's body violently to the earth with a sickening crunch of cracking bone.
With her eyes fixed on her captured prey, Faure raises her bardiche above her head, before shouting in response to the bard, "My hand's 're--Nrk--!!"
Her axe brutally swings down, cleaving the flailing mutt's spine in half.
"--A tad busy right now!!"
A hint of movement from her periphery, and Faure instinctively sidesteps away, a mass of ice-white fur, gnashing teeth, and claws flying through the space where her head and neck had just occupied.

"Haaa~." Faure exhaled, a sigh less weary from physical fatigue, and more from the sheer absurdity of their mutual situation.
"Bloody hell... it didn't take long for it all to go to pot, didn't it?" Faure bitterly pouts, now standing back-to-back with the drifting bard.
"I mean really, is this any way to receive such a fair, dainty maiden as myself!? Have these so-called 'Frostwardens' spent so much time, sealed away in their keep, that they've neglected even the most basic of etiquette, forgone the most basic of human decency!?"
Clutching a hand to her chest in dramatic dismay, Faure nurses the most terrible wound that has been borne upon her; an ineffable scar upon her pride as a noble lady.
"No fanfare to herald our arrival, no parade to celebrate our coming, not even a chaperone to escort us, and they leave us to contend with vile, brutish trolls and feral hounds!? An outrage, I say! An outrage!!"

The sickening blow to her senses the swirling vortex had left her had now, for the most part, subsided, and now her hunter's instincts were working in overtime, gauging the level of danger she currently found herself in.
She could hear the telltale howling, the pattering of paws on snow, and scraping of claws on ice.
It wasn't a large pack, as far as she could tell, their number likely able to be counted on her hands, and it was a fortunate boon that she'd at least had some experience with this sort of scenario; wolves were an all too common threat when hunting in the woods, and she'd quickly learned how best to deal with them.
And yet, there was more than a bit...off going on here: even the most desperate of wolf packs would never hunt so close to such a large human settlement, and the eruption from that troll's magic would normally be enough noise to send them scrambling back to their dens for cover.
To make matter's worse, they were on rather tenuous ground, with but a few meters to their flank leading to a precarious fall down to the foot of the mountain, and in these close quarters, it would be difficult for her wind up a shot with her sling.

Faure clenched and unclenched her jaw at the thought, chalking it up to the fact that they were not in your average, everyday wilderness, and these were not your average, everyday pack of wolves.
Tightening her grip on her weapon and feeling it's reassuring weight in her hands, she also resolved that her axe would be more than enough to fend off some, desperate, frostbitten dogs.
Keeping her poleaxe poised and ready to defend herself, she astutely whispers to the comrade at her back, "Well, since we're on our own, a word of advice on contending with wolves; do try to avoid getting yourself surrounded. Keep your back to mine, and we'll keep the pesky buggers at bay. Once we scare 'em off, we can find a route back to the others."

Interactions: Lekiel (Drifts)

Code by Serobliss

 

[Elenion Aura]

The Frozen Waste, Dungeons under Caedia

Expedition #5

ICE TROLL

TERRITORIAL TERROR

Group 1: Mercury, Hannelore, Godfried & Sol’lochar

The wind howled as the Delvers sprang into action. Godfried’s arc of flame flared brightly against the troll's jagged skin as Sol darted beneath the beast and Hannelore menaced it with her sword drawn. All the while, Mercury's battle hymn guiding their steps.

The Ice Troll, in the face of their combined offensive, staggered forward, falling onto its knees... Though, it recovered with terrifying speed. The fel creature roared again, hefting its club high, shaking off some of the flames clinging to its frozen flesh. The wind seemed to bend around it, as if the storm itself rallied to the creature's warcry. Its beady eyes narrowed with dull fury as it brought its colossal weapon crashing down toward Sol, aiming to crush him beneath its might.

Just as the troll prepared to launch another attack, something strange happened. A pulse of hesitation flickered in the monster’s movements, as though it had sensed something. Its snarling expression faltered for a heartbeat, and in that instant, the frost-encrusted behemoth took a cautious step backward, black eyes wide.

Without warning, the troll turned and lumbered off, its retreat quick and urgent. The frozen ground shook beneath its massive weight, and soon the only sound left was the relentless howl of the wind. Until, as the dust of the battle settled, the heavy iron doors of the keep groaned open. A squadron of Frostwardens emerged. Clad in furs and black, wrought iron. Steel swords at the ready.

The leader, a broad-shouldered man with a grizzled beard dusted with rime, stepped forward, assessing the group. Sensing them coming, the man raised a hand to head off any wayward words. Better to save the warmth of the breath in their lungs.

“Before we all ask our questions at once,” he said in a voice like the distant rumble of thunder, letting his eyes scan the arrayed Delvers before him once more. "You’ll want to come in out of the cold... You lot aren't dressed for this weather."

With perhaps some trepidation, the Delvers were ushered into the surprisingly welcoming foyer of the Frostwarden Keep.

Warmth greeted them like an old friend.

The bitter wind was instantly silenced, replaced by the soft crackle of well tended fires crackling in hearths. The scent of pine and roasted meat filled the air, and thick pelts of fur lined the walls and floors. Heavy wooden beams crisscrossed the high ceilings far above them.

From the outside looking in, one would've never imagined that dour fort to feel so... Homey.

They were led to a spacious room with long tables, where a grand hearth blazed at the far end. Seated around one of the tables was a panel of wizened Frostwardens, plates of steaming mutton set before them. At their far side stood a pale, young woman clad in furs. Hair the scarlet of the dying embers at her back.

“Welcome, Delvers,” one of the elder wardens spoke, raising a withered hand in greeting. "We were not expecting you... What ill fortune brings you so far afield?"

Interactions: BriiAngelic Love_In_Idleness Topless Maverick.

Expedition #5

RIMEFROST WOLF

PACK HUNTERS

GROUP 2: Drifts, Minthra & Marigold

The biting cold whipped against the Delvers as they faced off against the pack of Rimefrost wolves. Drifts let her marionette spring to life with a deft flick of her fingers. The first wolf lunged, teeth gleaming in the faint light, but it fell swiftly to the ground, crimson spilling into the snow as her puppet struck with deadly precision.

Faure brought her bardiche down with a sickening crunch, cleaving through another wolf with ease. The wolves snarled and circled, their pale forms darting through the snow like wraiths, but their mettle was wavering. The combined defense of the Delvers had proved thus far impenetrable, and so the pack hesitated, sensing the strength of their prey. Still, the howls of the pack grew louder—more wolves were surely on the way, drawn by the commotion.

Just as the next wave seemed ready to strike, a trio of whistling blades cut through the frigid air. Emerging from the swirling storm came three silver-haired warriors, their red cloaks billowing like banners of fire against the white of the snow. They moved with the grace of seasoned killers, their swords flashing in the pale light as they cut down two wolves in rapid succession. Those of the pack that remained, sensing a shift in the tide, retreated into the storm, their howls fading as they fled back up the mountainside.

"Quickly," the lead warrior, a tall man with a fair face and piercing, blue eyes beneath his helm, shouted over the roar of the wind. "There will be more of them before long. Follow us!"

Without hesitation, the warriors retreated the way they had come, their boots crunching over the snow as they hurried down the narrow path. The storm raged on, and the distant howls of the wolves echoed, threatening to grow closer again.

After what felt like an age and more battling the bitter cold, the group arrived at last at a large cave hollowed out in the mountainside, its entrance partially concealed by snowdrifts. Inside, the wind's fury was muffled, and the remains of a small fire glowed faintly, its embers nearly extinguished. One of the women, a stern-faced warrior with a scar running down her cheek, knelt beside the fire, quickly rekindling it. Within moments, warmth began to fill the cave, dispelling the chill that had settled into bones less accustomed to such northerly climes.

The man, removing his helmet to reveal a head of silver hair and more of his fair features, stepped forward. He surveyed the Delvers with a mix of curiosity and... A touch of hopefulness? He nodded to them each in turn as he introduced himself.

"I am Kaelen, Captain of the Frostwardens," he said. "These are my sisters, Lysa and Seren. We were patrolling the pass when we heard the commotion. It's fortunate we found you when we did. The storm is getting worse, and the wolves are not the only danger out there."

He gestured toward the fire as the flames crackled to life. "Warm yourselves. For now, you're safe. The wolves won’t follow us here."

One of the women, Lysa, sat down near the fire, her gaze boring into the flames, all but ignoring the newcomers as her sister took a whetstone to her blade. Kaelan spoke again. "Once you've had a moment to rest, we'll talk. I imagine there's much to discuss."

It seemed that, for the moment, at least, the dangers of the mountain were held at bay.

Interactions: Lekiel Kwayzar pendog King Crimson

 

[Topless]

Godfried Losery
Interactions: Elenion Aura BriiAngelic Love_In_Idleness Maverick.

Their efforts had only managed to stagger the ice troll briefly as it quickly recovered from the group's onslaught. It did not take long before it went to attack Sol. Godfried was swift to act on his feet as he slammed the tail end of his staff to summon a large and thick wall of ice right as the club was about to make contact with the monk. But before it could attempt to attack again, it sensed something urged it to retreat quickly. The group was puzzled at first until the ground suddenly shook as the iron doors opened. There came out the wardens themselves, and the group should have let out at least a sigh of relief in their presence.

After being led into the fortress and into what appeared to be a dining hall, one of the elder wardens inquired about their job within the frozen wastes. Godfried would be the first to speak up. "Greetings, we have come from the faraway land of Closter to inform you about a deserted brother of yours. One who spoke of madness, telling about the dark days of ice that have yet to come. He appeared one day in our midst and we were tasked to send you the message that we have your deserter. However, as we approached your fortress, some of us were separated by an ice troll and an avalanche. We were hoping that in exchange for your deserted brethren, we humbly request your aid in reuniting with our lost comrades." He said calmly.

 

[King Crimson]

Expedition #5

FAURE

HUMAN RANGER

The Frozen Wastes, Dungeons under Caedia

Faure could faintly hear the sounds of their menacing snarls, against the constant howl of the prevalent wind, and could vaguely see their silhouettes behind the curtain of falling snow, circling in wait for an opening.
But, she also heard the occasional fearful whimpers, and exasperated pants for air, and while some of the small, menacing, blue-eyed ghosts darted about, others shrinked away, or stood hesitantly in place, less willing than their brothers to hurl themselves into the steely jaws of death.
It seemed that, against the odds, her and the minstrel had managed to form a solid line of defense.
Faure's lips broke into a wary, wavering smile.
"Thaaat's right," she chided the wolves encouragingly, like a person trying to deal with a naughty, misbehaving pet.
"Go on, get away now! Get your scrag someplace else! A tasty rabbit or vole, maybe?"
As if in reply to her 'suggestion', a chorus of howls echoed on the wind, along with the clamor of several quadrupedal paws rapidly rushing towards their position.
"Haa...bugger..." Faure cursed beneath her breath, digging her feet to find solid ground within the slippery ice, and raising her axe once more to meet them.

But then, she heard a distinctly different set of footsteps crunching against the frigid snow, heavier than those of wolves, and bipedal, judging from the rhythm with which they walked.
It was accompanied by the soft jingling of metal, the kind made by the latches and chains of mail, armor and scabbards.
Their red cloaks were distinct against the pure, white snow, and their precise, coordinated assault quickly muffled the furious barks and snarls into muted, pained cries, which soon became distant howls of retreat.
"Hmph, it's about time you lot showed up!" Faure pouted, readjusting her ushanka, which had gotten knocked astray by the roiling winds, and by her fervent attempts to keep the hounds at bay.
Despite her grievances, she obediently did as she was told, following the red-cloaked figures through the storm, into a nearby cave.

The reprieve from the constant, biting winds was welcome, though the cave walls, by themselves, did little to stave away the lingering cold.
Luckily, the pit of fire and kindling soon remedied that issue, filling the dark cloister with warmth and light, as one of the red-cloaked women went to work, stoking the embers anew.
"You don't have to tell me twice! I'm right, bloody knackered from all that hiking!" Faure, sighed in complaint as she entered behind them, lifting her axe high above her head, and then, with a momentous slam, burying it's blade deep into the cave's bedrock, right behind an empty stool, which she quickly claimed for herself.
The handle of her mighty weapon served as a rest for her back as she reclined in her seat, one leg crossed over the other, very regal, despite the fact that she was presently inside of a damp, mildew-filled cave.
"Hmm. I'll give you points for an impressively dramatic entrance...But, I can't say I appreciated our welcoming reception! Not three steps, and we were set upon by some ugly troll, with nary a single guard in sight!"" Faure chuffed, resting her head upon her hand.
"Perhaps, I may be willing to overlook this overall dreadful first impression, in exchange for a spot of tea~."
Looking towards the scarred, stern-faced woman staring absentmindedly into the flames, she beckoned towards her like a master calling upon a servant.
'Go on girl, might as well make yourself useful'.
Readjusting in her seat, she turned her gaze back towards the grizzled, older man, whom had introduced himself as 'Kaelen'.
"But really, is this what it's like every day down here?" she asked sympathetically.
"No wonder that poor sod of yours we found in Cloister went barmy..."






Interactions: Kaelan/Lysa/Seran Elenion Aura , Drifts Lekiel , Minthra Kwayzar , Marigold pendog

Code by Serobliss