Graded [Frontier] Frozen Kingdom

[gmimperfecti]

The Kingdom was a frozen wasteland this time of year. Winter had come and with it an ever deepening tide of snow. It was said the wind of the north was alive and hungry in winter, roused from it's summertime slumber by the quiet cold that stole the warmth of exposed skin. Eager to join in, Azjorath the Hungry Wind, rose at the first whisper of sound, whipping into a frenzy as more noise was made. At night Azjorath's children the Wraiths of Azjorath hunted from the shadows, drawn to the sleeping silence of thier victims. It is for this reason many hang an Azjorath Chime above thier beds, making just enough noise to attract a breeze but keeping her Wraiths away.

The Kingdom was filled with such superstitions, half truths, and nightmares. Monsters were plentiful lurking in the wild places, glacierial cravaces, and the many massacres preserved beneath the snow. Ever at war with the environment, it was only through unrelenting will and the ancient Mecha artifacts that humanity had kept thier hold. Here the good races were more of a weed, being ripped out but always sprouting back. This was an unsettled place.

Finn had heard all of this and more from his guide, Aurora an Artic Wolf beastkin. Aurora lead the sled team taking a caravan along the northeastern shoreline. It was thirteen dog sleds pulling cargo, crew, and tourists. Finn was joined by a few others. They were a mix of adventure hungry fools and people running away from something.

Everyone had to work, even the tourists, of which the most annoying was Count Valleros' second eldest son, Viktor Von Valleros. Viktor and his entourage of dragoons and minions were out hunting polar bear and other more exotic creatures. They made up a full four sleds with each sled filled with gear plus three people. Viktor was bat shit crazy, blood thirsty and lacked all mortality. The only thing he held to was the strict social moors and etiquette that defined the Kingdom's nobility.

A series of whistles from the rear sled brought each sledmaster to roar, "Ombre!" despite the roar of the winter wind, the dogs picked up pace.

On the horizon behind them a dark line formed and grew with each passing moment. As the darkness gathered and consolidated, it came with a chorus of squawking.

Azjorath picked up as the noise around and behind them increased. She was in a fury, biting and clawing at exposed flesh and getting into every crack and crevice. The wind picked up bits of frozen ice and powdery snow, obscuring sight and dampening sound.

Even as Azjorath picked up intensity, the cloud of darkness grew until it darkened the sky. A screeching cawing whirlwind of buffeting wings, clawing talons and pecking beaks began to descended upon the party. The teeming mass of sinister, rotting, disease-ridden birds veered in thier journey towards the party eager to peck at eyeballs and the flesh of the dogs. Soon they would be upon the party. With each second they covered hundreds of feet. The stench was carried upon the back of Azjorath. As they nested, the undead ravens appeared as rotting and diseased black birds whose feathers were torn, matted and dirty. Thier eyes were an inky, dripping black.

Thier sqweaky, cawking screaks washed over everyone like a bucket of madness. Azjorath the Hungry Wind picked at the undead crows as it did the dogs and people in the ground. A few of the crows fell as the wind attacked them, and the dogs grew terrified. Whistles and shouts grew louder, only serving to further incite Azjorath.

 

[gmimperfecti]

Without a thought of hesitation Tyrmar rocketed out of the group of civilians to take position parallel to the caravan before heading straight toward the incoming hoard, all the while issuing instructions towards the riders and travelers. (Burst Step + Burst Step, Second)

In preparation for battle the enchantment engraved upon his person reacted to his will before erupting leaving Tyrmar’s body near glowing beneath his clothes as he rushed off taking the appearance of a racing comet.

“We’ve got undead inbound! Everyone gather what you can carry and move with the caravan forward, listen to the Sledmasters!!” Yelling at the top of his lungs his orders over and over again Tyrmar hoped to open up room between the upcoming battlefield and any innocents, he’d be able to hold nothing back if he didn’t have to worry about friendly fire. (Compassionate Charisma)

Many of those on the sleds remained where they were. The sledmasters shouted, urging their dogs ever faster. “Ombré!” They roared louder, but the wind roared even louder, picking up larger chunks of ice and hurling them into the bodies and sleds. One of the sleds zig-zagged curving and barreling into a snowbank. Three bodies tumbled out and rolled ten feet along cracked, icy snow. The dogs went insane, snapping and biting each other as they tangled in the lines. The sled ejected its contents everywhere.

Still the other sleds pushed on, not looking back. Tyrmar was free of his sled; the reduced weight on that one allowed it to push forward even faster.

"Mind your eyes and don't stare too long!" He yelled out and held the sword straight up infront of him. Casting out a blast of holy light that lingered like a shining star against the black wave.

"Keep on and i'll take care of this monster, who else can fight here?!" Finn called out.

He would also attempt to utilize appraisal on these incoming minions, best too be certain what their being tailed by.

For five hundred feet the golden light spread and lingered about everyone. Perhaps if Finn had baited a trap he would have caught more of the ravens in his radiance, but he did not. As a result only a quarter of the swarm of undead crows were caught. Several hundred of them burst like a squeezed tomato. Their bodies came apart as if they’d been made of wet clay and black paint. The momentum of their movements carried the splatter of white, gray, and black. And the swarm had been moving at over 100 miles per hour. Azjorath was already whipped into an insane fury, the Hungry Wind picked up and hurled everything that wasn’t at least five pounds in weight and accelerated it into painful, potentially deadly projectiles. The splattered undead crows bodies came apart into thick slurry, which spread apart until a horizontal wall of what was once hundreds of ravens but was now something like thousands of droplets of accelerating ever faster after the sleds.

The other undead crows didn’t break the barrier around Finn. They instead spread out in all directions, becoming more diffuse. However, even for them flight wasn’t precise now that Azjorath the Hungry Wind was also gusting and swirling around at speeds of a hundred miles per hour. All sound was carried, reflected and intensified until what had been a made cacophony of a murder of crows was now a terrible static of maddening ultra loud white noise.

Within Finn’s five hundred foot dome of golden light, the wind was calmer around 50 miles per hour but still it was damaging but only picking up a pound or two of snow, ice, and other debris.

Flinging her cloak open, Shalys planted her foot against a box to brace herself. She took out her bowgun, a massive weapon only slightly shorter than her. Despite how shaky the sled was between the mad crows and the dogs running for their lives, the elf had no issue shooting down the undead birds, often taking out two or three crows per bolt. With how big these swarms were, aiming wasn't the issue, it was taking out as many crows as she can at once. Fortunately unlike a regular crossbow, Shalys's bowgun was much more advanced. With every shot, steam pumped from the canisters of her bowgun to cycle the next bolt and rack the string back, immediately allowing her to shoot another shot one after the other. Shalys kept her cool and focused on shooting down the crows from afar, and any that got too close to her was quickly shot down before she went right back to peppering the main swarm with bolts.

Shalys took out a crow or two with each shot. Each time, the undead crow burst into clumps of clay, oozing into and eventually coming apart until they were picked up by the fury of Azjorath, carried and joining the wall of “Black Rain.”

Count Valleros' second eldest son, Viktor Von Valleros was laughing his ass off into the howling, shrieking white noise. It was impossible to hear what he was saying. However, his fingers moved as he balanced casually upon the edge of his sled. Two of his minions, a sled master and someone else in white robes, hunkered down. The white robed minion didn’t appear to do anything but suddenly Viktor’s sled blended into the whiteness. Moments later the other three sleds seemed to blend into the landscape.

There was one more figure who stood out. As it was impossible to hear anything it was hard to hear if he was answering Finn’s call to arms or not. This figure was an oddball. He looked like a black bundle, suspicious perhaps, because he seemed more like the blackness of the ravens than the golden light that Finn and Tyrmar represented. The golden light seemed to make him uncomfortable. Of course to Finn and those with Appraisal they knew his name as Vanta the Lost, a Grade E Magus of Loss and Shadow. Vanta was watching all the craziness unfold from beneath the cowl of his hood. His hands had fingers that were like long spider legs. In his left hand, a black line carved through the fabric of creation. Black sigils oozed nothingness that ate the light and sound. It took longer than a typical mage’s spell but the maddening white noise louder than a yell was distracting.

Past the last sled near where Finn and Tyrmar were, miniature balls of ashen grey came out of the sigils and expanded to look solid like hail. They fell in waves of biting nothingness, each clinging to the wall of advancing black rain. They didn’t seem to do any damage, rather they clung and stuck. They formed a mass and clung to each other, entrapping more of the black rain like a snowball being pushed down a hill. They clung to other things as well like the aerial snow. The spell didn’t clean up the entire wall, and the hungry wind dispersed the remaining black rain but about 30% of it was gone.



OOC

1. The “Black Rain” will arrive and likely engulf the entire sled train next round. It will take two rounds to get the entire sled train due to everyone being spread out in a line.
2. The Azjorath the Hungry Wind’s loud white noise makes anything that depends on sound impossible without Effectiveness 10 or higher (E.g. focus).
3. The Azjorath the Hungry Wind is now strong enough to slow movement and generally be a difficult thing for any Grade D or lower character. Thus Grade D or lower take -1 to Effectiveness. Grade F and lower take 1HP of damage.

Spoiler: Finn’s Appraisal

The swarm appraises as a B-grade single entity in a [Transformation B: Undead Crow Form]. Titles: [Murder][Abuser][Abyssal Knight][Baron of the Lingering Darkness][Hunter Seeker][Mass Devourer][Gentleman of Supreme Tastes][Moon Spawn]

 

[gmimperfecti]

And, without another word or allowing his guide and his friend to say anything against it he jumped off and took off towards the folks who impacted the frozen hillside. He was no experienced snow...man? But he was quick on his feet and despite his armor he was well versed in pushing on despite the odds.

Aurora growled as Finn jumped away. The sled was traveling close to 20mph, and braking it was not easy. "Mind..." She whined in anxiety and then cursed. "Fine." She pulled on the reins and executed what could only be called a donut, swirling the dog sled and pivoting it somehow, displacing the forward momentum into angular and causing the sled to pivot and swirl. As she did she tossed out a snow anchor to settle the sled and jumped off the whole thing before it stopped moving.

The third passenger in the sled, a white robed mage, vomited when the sled finally stopped. After puking their guts out, they wobbly looked around and conjured a shimmering shield over the sled. It didn't look like a strong barrier but the few undead crows that dive bombed from 100 feet up, rebounded off of it. At least the dogs and sled would be safe for awhile.

Aurora landed, rolled, and ran after Finn.

Come on! Up and at em all together! Someone out there loop around we got folks here in need of pick up!

More we get faster we can get out! Leave the cargo things ain't worth your lives!" He began his barking, his shine keeping the danger... Somewhat at bay, but he certainly was able to be seen.

"Come on! Or you gonna tell me The Kingdom folks leave each other to die and have nary a bit of valor! Living ain't livin if it's living in cowardice!" He would spek and act, getting whatever injured he could out, but... If others were willing to help too, they could certainly all make it...

Finn's words carried a warmth to them, thawing the coldest of hearts. Even those who had written off the group and had sought to rush ahead! And what fortune luck was it that those sleds in the vanguard turned at the exact moment that they did? Just as the now lead sled stopped, executing a tight turn, the ground before them gave away exposing another crevice! Indeed, several of the sleds narrowly escaped falling into crevices because they heeded Finn's words. Three additional sleds were saved from plunging into the cold depths beneath the snowpack by Finn's words alone!

The remaining sleds pulled around and one or two people jumped off each one to help.

Glancing back at the crevices, Aurora swore. "What's going on?" she whispered, before refocusing her attention on those who needed help.

The man was attempting to talk to the driver of the sled next to them, but they couldn't hear anything with the wind howling. Mimi looked up at the other sled. She was squinting through the billowing snow at the two people in the back. Between the snow and the winter gear, she couldn't tell who or what they were, be they human, beastfolk, or something else. But suddenly, in an instant, they were gone. Their whole sled just vanished. From where she was sitting Mimi couldn't tell what had happened. She pulled the woolen blanket tighter over herself and the two children, trying to protect them from the wind.

In an instant, however, the wind vanished, and the crows began to put more distance between themselves and the sleds. Mimi looked out at the sleds in the back, where the action seemed to have died down. An overturned sled and several passengers, along with their goods, were about to be passed up. She wondered what would happen to them.

"Hold on," the husband whispered, just loud enough for his family and Mimi to hear, as he turned the sled to come back around and huddle up with the group. The husband jumped out the sled stopped, setting the snow anchor and running to help the sled that had plunged into the crevice. Behind them, Mimi could see the crevice that they had narrowly avoided thanks to listening to Finn's call for help.

Shalys joined the loud knight in saving the others. She didn't really like his volume, however she can't deny that he was immensely useful in fending off those crows. Without him, Shalys would've had a much harder time taking out the eye between dodging and fighting crows. Unfortunately, strength wasn't one of Shalys' strong points, so she wasn't really able to help pull anyone up. So she did the nest best thing, taking out her barbed bolts and stabbing them into the ice to help people climb up and out from the cliffside. That should help out the other people, so Shalys would focus on saving the dogs. She had a soft spot for animals, and they would need the most help to get out. Plus they'd be needed to help pull the sleds if they're going to take more people as well.

With the bolts planted into the snow forming an easy to access scaffolding, people started to crowd around the crevice. The first person was easy to rescue as their body was right at the lip of the precipice. One of the people used an ice ax to cut the black tentacle away, while two others pulled the tangled person away.

The other two people and the dogs were another matter!

The damned crows were still flocking above despite staggering earlier, though he couldn’t bring the same ordinance to ear as the blond warrior he still felt he could lay down cover of his own.

“Exalted Heart:” his speedy pace allowed for him to skid up to the first group that’d fallen into the icy tundra closest to him, as his armor provided a beacon to grab onto in the harsh weather Tyrmar gave a hard stomp into the ground setting his core firmly before letting loose into the sky with a roaring uppercut. “Soaring Squall!”

From the singular point that was his fist, blasts of force exploded outwards like beams of light, separating and streaking across a 100 ft distance to strike the flock that was closing in on the group farthest away overhead.

Not even allowing a moment of hesitation he threw the three occupants on his shoulders before bursting off once again back towards the carts.

Tyrmar's fist cleaved the sky. His upper cut rippled with energy that cut apart a host of crows overhead. Turning back to help, he couldn't help but notice the hundreds of crows slain once more broke apart like a popped balloon or like melted snow, the inky blackness they were comprised of turning liquid and falling down like rain.

"Fool!" Count Valleros' second eldest son, Viktor Von Valleros bellowed, materializing surprisingly close to Tyrmar's uppercut. With a gesture of his hand, four fingers held together in an upward slashing gesture. Several volleys of slush and water arched over the group, four Winter Wizards in the service of Viktor finally became visible again. Each had casted an identical Winter's Breath of Spring spell. The result was the Black Rain falling down towards the party was brushed aside, landing around the group by not touching anyone.

Viktor made another hand gesture, two fingers in a flicking pointing gesture and one of his dragoons leapt high into the air, landing where Shalys glittering barbed bolt had fallen after hitting the Eye. The dragoon pocketed the bolt and leapt back towards Viktor.

"Idiots," he said, shaking his head and gestured three fingers on his left hand, signaling the remaining three dragoons.

The three dragoons became visible as they leapt through the air, dropping into the crevice even as Aurora and a few other brave souls were attempting to climb down into the crevice! The dragoons dove through the air like a bird of prey, swooping past the people climbing down on Shaly's bolts. The first dragoon stopped himself by driving his lance into the side of the crevice near the bottom. The other two used their lances in a similar capacity, ignoring the cries of those above. Two reappeared a few moments later with the two men down below. They deposited the rescued men, handing them over to the crowd by the crevice.

The third dragoon came leaping out of the crevice, carrying a bundle of the assets on the sled. This bundle he tossed to the sled master on one of Viktor's sleds. "Those will do," he said.

All the while, Viktor unsheathed his gleaming, silver sword and eyed Finn. "Satisfied now that we've risked the lives of every man, women, and child to rescue a few who fell to incompetence?" Viktor took a deep breath and sighed.

Even as he spoke though, the ground about a thousand feet out started to tremble. Cracks formed and veered, connecting with many unseen crevices opening up several large chasms. Where as only moments before the vast plain of hard packed snow had appeared like a crumpled sheet of white paper, now it was split like the ice flows of a broken glacier!



What caused this to happen was hard to guess without skills or abilities that might see, feel, or know what was transpiring over a thousand feet away. Now that everyone was rescued, except for the dogs down the crevice, but with what was happening in the distance, everyone near that crevice ran backwards. Indeed, it seemed like whatever was happening far away was rapidly approaching! Hundreds of unseen crevices groaned and shattered, giving way.

The group was lucky indeed, because what had appeared like a stable field was most definitely not! "Impossible!" Aurora whispered, shaking her head. Many of the other veterans joined her. After all there was no where to go! The ice fields had broken, making moving forward by sled impossible. Perhaps those with supernatural movement abilities would be okay on foot, but the vast majority wouldn't.

Behind and to the sides was still the swarm of undead crows, who had been thinned down due to the numerous attacks. From the original thousands, hundreds upon hundreds had been killed, turned into the Black Rain and then either vaporized or dispersed. Still hundreds and hundreds remained, even if they were spread out and further away. The swarm circled and moved at tremendous speeds of over 100mph!

And then Finn's luck turned. Somehow the crows were respawning!

For some, the clumps and droplets of black inky ooze flowed together, solidifying and forming a crow-like shape until it became life like. For others, it appeared like some of the crows were dividing, splitting into two smaller crows and then quickly growing back to normal size. By far the puddles of black inky ooze remade themselves much faster than the splitting crows, but both were in happening.

 

[gmimperfecti]

Fronzen Kingdom Scene 3 - The Glacier's Heart.

Amidst the vast expanse of the fractured glacier, a colorful group of humans and beastkin huddled together for warmth around their dog sleds. The wind whispered through the crevices of the ice, echoing the exhaustion and hunger of the party. Their breaths hung in the air like ghosts, mingling with the whispers of the frozen tundra. Though weary and cold, their spirits remained unbroken, for they were bound together in a single purpose: to reach the Shrine of Spring's Breath and the safety it offered before they became yet another failed attempt by humanity to eek out a place in the Frozen Kingdom.

Eager eyes turned upwards, towards a gaping hole that bored deep into the heart of the glacier. It was as if the very earth had opened its mouth, inviting the brave to venture into its depths. On the precipice of the abyss, a group of heroes stood tall, their silhouettes illuminated by the soft glow of the aurora borealis.

Finn, the holy warrior, stood at the forefront, his golden aura gleaming like the first rays of dawn. His eyes shone with determination, a beacon of hope for the weary travelers. Tyrmar, the muscular fist fighter, flexed his powerful arms as he itched to descend into the hole, eager to unleash his strength upon the unknown.

Mimi, an adorable dogkin girl with eyes as bright as stars, looked up at the heroes with a mix of awe and curiosity. Her tail wagged in excitement, the rhythmic thumping providing a cheerful soundtrack to the gathering. Aurora, the arctic wolf girl, her silver-white fur glistening like freshly fallen snow, listened intently to the conversation, her keen ears picking up even the faintest whispers of the wind.

Off to the side, Vanta the shadow mage and a coterie of winter wizards hunched over ancient tomes, their minds focused on deciphering arcane formulas. The flickering cold light of their spells cast eerie shadows across the icy landscape, their chants mingling with the howling of the wind.

The heroes and their companions, united in their quest, found solace in one another's presence. Their conversation echoed across the icy expanse, quickly swallowed up by the cold, barren landscape. And as they prepared to decide upon whether or not to descend into the heart of the glacier, their resolve to stay as a group or to splinter into individuals was strained.

As the discussion between Finn and Tyrmar came to an end, the heroes and their companions mulled over the two options laid before them. The wind howled around them, as if nature itself were urging them to make a decision. A sense of unease seemed to settle over the group.

Tyrmar proposed two options, his voice heavy with the weight of responsibility: to continue the journey above on an unknown path together or to venture into glacier's heart and obtain portions of the beast, meeting up with the caravan later with reinforcements. His mind was filled with worry; could they really survive another eight days of hardships, with exhausted families and children in tow?

However, Finn, the holy warrior, contemplated the choices and eventually disagreed with venturing into the hole. "Let the Count's bastard son have his toys, I don't care for the wurm and its hide; I'll not have people put at risk for a trophy," he said, his voice filled with conviction.

After a pause, Finn continued, looking towards the tired and weary people by the dog sleds. "I shall be leaving with the caravan. There will be another day to hunt; there will always be another chance. But these people have but one life, and I shall protect it." As Finn placed his sword back in its sheath, his determination was palpable.

"But, likely we will need time to properly prepare. If you've aim to send up things, have at it. We can spare an hour or two of preparations, no? Dogs and affairs in order?" Finn regarded the caravan with compassionate eyes. As he stood next to Aurora, the winter wolf girl, his hand crept up to lightly scratch behind her ear. Aurora's tail wagged unconsciously, and for a moment, her gaze lingered on Finn, filled with a mixture of admiration and hidden affection, before she returned her attention to enjoying his gentle touch.

Mimi, the dogkin girl, tugged at Finn's armor, her bright eyes shimmering with determination. She voiced her agreement in barely auidble words as it was hard to focus on what was being said when Finn's other hand pet her head. The words of the one petting her sounded most agreeable. She couldn't think of a reason she needed to collect any parts of the worm.

Aurora, the arctic wolf girl, nodded her agreement, her silver-white fur dancing in the wind. "Mimi is right. We've come this far together, and we've faced many dangers. If we stay united, we can overcome anything that lies ahead. A delay will not hurt us, especially if it means we stay united. If Ser Tyrmar is able to shore up our food stores in so doing, all the better."

Shalys, a skilled archer with a heart as sharp as her arrows, added her voice to the mix. "I believe in our strength as well. We must face whatever awaits us, together. Both paths have unknowns, but it's better to confront it where we can best use our combined skills and talents."

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------- Group 1: Descending into the Glacier's Heart -------
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The group found itself divided by their decisions, but each respected the other's choice. Tyrmar's eyes sparkled with determination, and he didn't want to waste a single minute of the two hours he'd been given. He nodded, his muscular form tensing with renewed energy as a few random adventurers joined him.

Amongst the small party was the barbarian Uriah Ulricson, his wind-scarred face hard and his hands clutching raven-faced ice picks for the descent down into the glacier's heart. Behind Uriah was Wurmborne, a creature of the wind and moon, its body ribbons of darkness and reflections of lost dreams now bound with cinders. Eager to follow, it spoke in odd riddles to indicate its excitement.

Vanta, the shadow mage, and the four winter wizards finished their arcane ritual, causing icy platforms and eldritch tentacles to spout down the thousand-foot descent. It was a scene of beautiful nightmare, the cold of the glacier's heart barely kept at bay by the magics of the winter wizards.

All assembled began their descent. There were problems along the way. Some people stumbled or slipped, their feet losing purchase on the treacherous ice. One adventurer nearly died, saved only by the quick reflexes of their comrades.

As the adventurers approached the heart of the glacier, an eerie glow emanated from the still-smoking corpse of the cinder scourge. This 40-foot wurm, part dragon and part abomination, lay bisected in half, right down the middle. Molten salt leaked from its body, resisting the terrible cold at the heart of the glacier, and pools of the substance formed in its cavities. Acrid smoke wafted from the lifeless creature, tainting the air with its pungent odor.

The noble bastard, Viktor, walked among the slush, ice, and bits of the corpse, inspecting it for important occult ingredients. His floating moon blade slashed apart the sections he pointed to, the weapon moving with deadly precision.

When Tyrmar dropped down from the climb, Viktor acknowledged him with a mad gleam in his eye. "Ah, Tyrmar! We must harvest the corpse quickly!" he urged, his excitement palpable.

As they worked, they noticed odd holes in the icy cavern where tiny symbiotes had fled, burrowing through the ice in a desperate bid for escape.

Deeper within the ice, the group discovered the Glacier Heart. This gleaming, fist-sized diamond embodied all the cold magics of the glacier, its crystalline structure refracting light into mesmerizing patterns.

The adventurers marveled at the Glacier Heart, its beauty a stark contrast to the carnage that surrounded them. They knew that this powerful artifact could hold the key to unlocking ancient secrets and untold power.

But time was of the essence, and the group worked diligently to harvest the cinder scourge's valuable remains. With each piece they collected, they moved closer to unraveling the mysteries that lay at the heart of the wurm and to finding the fragment of Hel-heart that powered it.

As the heroes toiled, their minds wandered back to their companions, those who had chosen to protect the caravan. Though they were separated, the bond they shared transcended distance, uniting them in spirit as they each pursued their own path, striving to bring hope and light to a world that so desperately needed it.

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------- Group 2: Preparing the Caravan for travel ----------
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The caravan was a motley assembly of individuals, each with their own stories, struggles, and hopes for the journey. Sled masters worked diligently with their loyal dogs, communicating with a series of barks and whistles, ensuring the sleds were ready for departure. Families clung to one another, providing comfort and warmth in the face of an uncertain future, while merchants carefully tended to their remaining goods, salvaging whatever they could from the frigid wasteland.

Finn, the holy warrior, walked amongst them, his golden aura casting a warm, reassuring glow on those around him. His presence lifted their spirits, the light he emanated serving as a symbol of hope and protection.

Mimi, the adorable dogkin girl, and Aurora, the enigmatic arctic wolf girl, followed Finn, doing their best to help get the caravan ready to depart. Their youthful energy and optimism were infectious, and they brought a measure of joy to the weary travelers.

Meanwhile, Shalys, an elven scout with sharp eyes and keen senses, patrolled the perimeter, searching for signs of the hungry undead or arctic monsters that had plagued their journey. As she scanned the horizon, she spotted several potential antagonists closing in from different directions. Her heart raced as she realized the danger they were in.

Shalys rushed back to the caravan, her urgent warning setting off a panic amongst the group. Fearful murmurs and cries filled the air as the travelers scrambled to prepare for the impending threat.

A cloud of white mist appeared in the distance, ominous and foreboding. It seemed to roll towards the caravan like an unstoppable wave, carrying with it the hungry cries of the undead on the wind. The chilling wails sent shivers down the spines of the travelers, a reminder of the relentless danger that pursued them. However, the army of undead was still just on the horizon, giving the caravan precious time to prepare for the confrontation.

But closer threats lurked nearby.

Much closer what had initially seemed like ordinary snowbanks or mounds of snow began to move and shift, revealing themselves to be sentient creatures formed of snow and ice. These glacial oozes appeared as translucent bluish-white icy sludge, each one roughly 10 feet in size, with some even larger. Their gelatinous, glassy bodies shimmered in the cold light, an eerie sight to behold.

Like many oozes, the glacial oozes were scavengers, feeding on the carcasses of once-living creatures that had frozen to death in the unforgiving arctic landscape. As they sensed the presence of the caravan, they began to form pseudopods, their frosty appendages reaching hungrily towards the unsuspecting travelers.

Scattered all around to the east, the glacial oozes were a mere hundred to a thousand feet away, closing in on the caravan with alarming speed. The caravan members, now aware of this immediate threat, tried to spring into action, but the repeated assaults were dulling their senses. The cold and wind were relentless in weathering away any exposed weakness, and the caravan had exposed many such weaknesses!

The sled masters and merchants started to move lethargically to prepare to fend off any oozes but mostly they huddled together, praying for the safety of their loved ones and the strength to withstand the impending onslaught.

As the glacial oozes drew nearer, the frigid air hummed with tension, the ice and snow trembling beneath the weight of the impending clash between the living and the frozen scavengers.

 

[gmimperfecti]

As the glacial oozes drew closer, the caravan members swiftly prepared for the impending threat. Sled masters tightened their harnesses and checked the equipment on their dogs, ensuring they were ready for a hasty escape if necessary. Merchants secured their goods, doing their best to protect their livelihoods from the encroaching danger. Families huddled together, each member gathering their courage and strength, bracing themselves for the coming battle.

Mimi, the adorable dogkin girl, raced back and forth between the goods pile and the sleds, tromping through the waist-high snow as best she could. Her strong arms hoisted the heavy boxes with surprising ease, and her tail wagged happily as she worked. She listened attentively to the sled drivers, who directed her on which crates to bring. Despite the harrowing journey they had all faced thus far, Mimi was grateful for the opportunity to be useful and part of the group.

Mimi ran back and forth from goods pile to sled, tromping through the waist high snow as best she could. The boxes barely felt heavy at all in her arms as she loaded them down, listening to the drivers of each sled tell her which crates to bring. Her tail wagged as she worked, thrilled to be useful and part of the group. Even though this trip had been a nightmare, it had shown her that she could find a place in the world to fit in.

As the oozes began to squirm from the snow banks and move on the caravan, Mimi's ears flattened and her fangs bared as she let out a low snarl. Things just did not seem to be letting up today. Dropping the crate she was carrying, she moved quickly to Finn's side at the front of the group, ready to defend the people. Something about these creatures approaching them seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite pin point why. But she definitely knew they were hostile, even before Finn unleashed a glowing attack with his sword. Mimi watched in anticipation eager to see if any of the slimes remained and where they would strike, prepared to intercept if she needed to.

As the oozes approached, Mimi's ears flattened and her fangs bared, signaling her readiness for battle. She dropped the crate she was carrying and swiftly moved to Finn's side at the front of the group. As Finn readied to unleashed another glowing attack with his sword, Mimi stood ready on the balls of her feet, watching for any that might get through.

she did know alchemy. With the caravan split supplies that couldn't be taken were used or abandoned. Shalys took the opportunity to use said supplies to make some new bolts, in particular explosive bolt shafts. While the materials she ahd on hand wasn't really enough to make an impressive bomb, these bolts ought to add some elemental oomph to her otherwise mundane bolts.

Finn and Mimi ran into the thick of the melee. Shalys wouldn't be too far behind, however she was prioritizing protecting the caravan over directly engaging with the slimes. Besides Finn was up front and he was more than capable of handling himself, last thing he needs is to save Shalys because of bad positioning. Not to mention that the Slimes, as dumb as they are, might just go around him and go towards the caravan since it's a bigger and relatively less dangerous threat, and that's where Shalys comes in. She shot at any slime that she could see, and when they got around 30ft she blasted them with her new blast bolts. Even with an indirect hit, the bolts would explode into shrapnel and flames, tearing up the slimes. She made sure to have a good sense of the battlefield, aiming her bolts where she felt they would be needed the most to patch up any holes in their defenses. The faster they move through this horde, the less likely unwanted threats will show up to scavenge.

Shalys, the elven scout, was keenly aware of the danger the glacial oozes posed to the caravan. Knowing that their physical toughness made them difficult to damage through conventional means, she turned to her alchemical knowledge to create a weapon capable of inflicting significant harm.

Gathering the necessary materials from the abandoned supplies, she set to work crafting explosive bolts for her crossbow. Shalys meticulously mixed volatile compounds, ensuring the right balance to achieve a potent yet stable reaction. She carefully packed the explosive mixture into the hollowed-out shafts of her crossbow bolts, sealing them tightly to prevent any accidental detonations.

Next, Shalys fashioned impact-sensitive tips for the bolts, designed to trigger the explosive charge upon striking a target. This would ensure that the full force of the explosion was unleashed inside the tough, icy bodies of the glacial oozes, maximizing the damage dealt.

With her new ammunition crafted, Shalys loaded her crossbow and took up a strategic position near the caravan. She scanned the horizon, watching as the translucent, bluish-white forms of the glacial oozes drew nearer. She could see their gelatinous bodies shifting and pulsating, forming pseudopods that reached out in anticipation of their next meal.

As the oozes came within range, Shalys took a deep breath and steadied her aim. She had only one chance to make each shot count, as the volatile nature of her explosive bolts meant she had a limited supply. Her keen elven senses and sharp reflexes were put to the test as she carefully tracked the movement of the oozes, timing her shots for maximum effect.

With a quiet determination, Shalys unleashed her explosive bolts, watching as they streaked through the air and found their targets. The impact-sensitive tips performed flawlessly, detonating the explosive charges within the oozes and causing them to shudder and convulse as the force of the blasts tore through their icy forms.

The caravan watched in awe as Shalys expertly wielded her alchemical creations against the glacial oozes, her skill and ingenuity providing them with a fighting chance against the relentless onslaught of the frozen landscape.

Now again he is beset by their kind, it was time to go to work.

He would head east, standing in the forefront of their approach, he sized the foes and made his measurements. He was no mathematician, but he knew his sword like his own hand, though he had no clue where the holy powers came from, he used them like his own power. The well within burst forth once more. Perhaps this will simply split the oozes, but... No doubt... The Holy power will still burn them.

On his point ahead of the pack, he observed the foes and with a anchoring stance upon the snow and ice he lit the blade alight... Time had passed, his mana had returned... he would unleash his power first and foremost, may these oozes be put back from whence they came.

"BEGONE!"

Horde Breaker Fighting Style B, Area C, Holy Affinity F, Drain Strength E, A strike at full power, covering a mass swathe of foes in one strike with punishing rays of light sapping the strength of those who still stand after. Grade B (5*) 500 feet aoe 4 post cooldown Actions 2

The battle continued to rage on, but the tide was turning in favor of the caravan. As the heroes fought off the remaining glacial oozes, Finn drew upon his inner reservoir of power, his golden aura intensifying until it practically radiated with divine energy.

In the midst of the battle, Mimi's sharp claws and powerful bite tore through the icy bodies of the oozes, causing them to shudder and lose their form. She fought fiercely alongside Finn, their coordinated efforts becoming more fluid as they anticipated each other's moves and provided support when needed.

The warmth of Finn's golden aura seemed to invigorate anyone it caressed, filling all with an inner strength as they defended the caravan. Everyone felt a sense of belonging and unity as they fought alongside Finn, Shalys, Aurora, and the others.

As Finn prepared to face the glacial oozes, he felt the well of holy power within him surge, ready to be unleashed. He stood at the forefront of the approaching creatures, his sword held confidently in his hand. He had no idea where this holy power came from, but he had learned to wield it as if it were his own.

With a deep breath, Finn planted his feet firmly in the snow and ice, anchoring himself against the impending onslaught. His sword began to glow with a radiant light, the power within him reaching its peak. He was well aware that simply splitting the oozes might not be enough to defeat them, but he was confident that the holy energy coursing through him would scorch the creatures and send them back to the icy depths from which they came.

With a battle cry of "BEGONE!" Finn unleashed his full power, activating his Horde Breaker Fighting Style B. A brilliant wave of light burst forth from his sword, cutting through the air in a massive 500-foot arc, targeting the entire mass of oozes. As the punishing rays of light struck the creatures, their strength was sapped by Finn's Drain Strength E ability.

The sheer force of Finn's attack was overwhelming, and the battlefield was soon littered with the remnants of the glacial oozes, their icy forms reduced to steaming puddles. The few oozes that remained standing after the onslaught were weakened and easily dispatched by the other heroes.

Finn's display of power and determination sent a wave of courage through the caravan. The people knew they could rely on him and the other heroes to protect them from the dangers of this unforgiving landscape. As they pressed on, Finn knew he would need time to recover from his powerful attack, but he also knew that, together, the group could face any challenge that lay ahead.

With the glacial oozes defeated, the caravan quickly set to work dealing with the aftermath. People worked together to clean up the scattered remains of the icy creatures, while merchants saw an opportunity to salvage some value from the encounter. They carefully collected the essence of the glacial oozes, knowing that these rare components could fetch a high price in the right market. The caravan as a whole felt a renewed sense of camaraderie and determination, their spirits lifted by the heroic efforts of Finn and the other defenders.

However, even as the caravan regrouped and prepared to continue their journey, the threat of the undead army far in the distance loomed ever closer. Shalys, with her keen elven eyes, could see the hazy outline of the approaching horde, shrouded in a swirling wall of frozen mist and flurries of snow. Though the undead were still some distance away, the sight was a dark reminder of the ever-present danger that stalked them. Hopefully, they would be able to navigate the treacherous path ahead and reach the safety of the Shrine.

 

[gmimperfecti]

Descending the mountainous chasm was no small ordeal, even with the nightmarish constructs that came from the minds of the Winter Wizards and Vanta. Uriah appropriated some climbing tools for his descent, carefully moving from foothold to foothold. Even with a lifetime of living in the mountains, this presented a particularly perilous path downwards. He was no ashamed to admit that the ice picks he borrowed kept a false foothold from taking his life more than once. In the end, though, the party reached the corpse of the wyrm all alive, if not a bit unsettled by the unnaturally hot blood that turned the cavern into a humid and acrid pit. Uriah questioned how this flesh could be edible, but the brawler named Tyrmar seemed to be convinced so.

Deep within the heart of the glacier, Tyrmar and his small party worked diligently to harvest the valuable resources from the enormous corpse of the Cinder Scourge. The air was icy cold, and the molten salt that leaked from the bisected wurm's body hissed and steamed as it fought against the freezing temperatures.

Tyrmar, with his keen knowledge of anatomy and culinary expertise, deftly carved choice cuts of meat from the monstrous creature. He removed salt glands with the precision of a skilled surgeon, knowing that these rare components could be used for both cooking and alchemical purposes. His muscular form moved with a determined efficiency, his eyes focused and filled with purpose.

Meanwhile, Viktor concentrated on the more arcane aspects of the Cinder Scourge's remains. He was particularly interested in the organic control nodes, fist-sized chunks that once played a vital role in controlling the creature's massive exoskeleton carapace. Viktor knew that these nodes held great power, and if he could extract them without damaging their delicate structure, they could be used for powerful enchantments or perhaps even to create new forms of weaponry.

The rest of their small party, including the enigmatic Wurmborne and the grizzled barbarian Uriah Ulricson, kept watch for any signs of danger. They knew that the glacier was a treacherous place, filled with hidden threats and unexpected surprises. They remained vigilant, their weapons at the ready, while Tyrmar and Viktor worked.

As the group continued their careful harvesting, the atmosphere in the heart of the glacier remained tense. They were well aware that time was of the essence, and that every moment spent in this frigid, inhospitable place brought them closer to the dangers that lurked within the frozen depths. Yet the potential rewards of their efforts drove them onward, determined to make the most of the opportunity before them.

The barbarian quickly accepted the fact that the group had settled on scavenging this beast. If not to provide the retreating party with replenishment of supplies, then to provide the advancing group with necessary sustenance for the journey ahead. At first, Uriah tried to work with his knives to carve away at the beast, but with a monster longer than six men tall, he would make minuscule progress. He'd eventually resort to hacking away at the flesh with his axe as if he were splitting logs. Powerful, precise blows that took advantage of his tool's heavy head to cleave the beast into manageable chunks. Between swings and his labored grunts, the barbarian requested, "Wyrmbourne, I beseech thee for thy helping hand in harvesting this beast before us. I see no progress made if we do not abide by the wishes of the compassionate Tyrmar or the alchemical whims of the noble Viktor."

Wurmborne, the enigmatic creature of wind and moon, turned its attention to Uriah's request. Its body, a strange combination of darkness and reflections of lost dreams bound with cinders, shifted and undulated as it considered the barbarian's words. The Wurmborne's ever-changing form seemed to adapt to the task at hand, as it was always eager to assist its allies in their endeavors.

With a nod of agreement, the Wurmborne approached the Cinder Scourge's corpse. Its form changed further, its limbs lengthening and sharpening, taking on an almost blade-like appearance. The creature began to work in tandem with Uriah, slicing through the monstrous flesh with an eerie grace and efficiency that belied its seemingly chaotic form. As they worked, the Wurmborne hummed a haunting melody, its voice a blend of soft whispers and distant echoes.

While Uriah hacked away with his axe, the Wurmborne's otherworldly limbs carved intricate patterns into the flesh, deftly removing chunks of valuable meat and organs. The two made an unlikely but effective team, their efforts steadily increasing the amount of material they were able to harvest from the fallen beast.

As they continued their work, the Wurmborne occasionally paused to whisper cryptic riddles and observations to Uriah, hinting at secrets hidden deep within the glacier's icy depths. Together, they worked tirelessly, driven by their shared determination to make the most of the opportunity before them and to aid their companions in their perilous journey ahead.

 

[gmimperfecti]

Orikanyo StarPrincessVal Norschtalen

In the aftermath of the battle against the glacial slimes, the members of the caravan went about their tasks with a sense of urgency, keenly aware of the danger still lurking nearby.

Mimi's curiosity and excitement were palpable as she went about harvesting the Glacial Slime Essences with her bare hands. The menthol like chill and jelly like viscous feel of the ooze intrigued her, and she took great delight in uncovering the valuable crystals within. Her tail wagged vigorously as she proudly presented her findings to Finn, who watched her with a mixture of admiration and amusement.

Shalys, on the other hand, approached the task with a more methodical and cautious mindset. Her knowledge of alchemy guided her as she skillfully harvested the essence from the slimes. She couldn't help but notice Mimi's enthusiasm and, although she admired the girl's spirit, she knew the potential dangers that came with handling slimes. After gathering a fair amount of essence, she went to Mimi's side to make sure she was alright. As she warmed Mimi's hands, she shared her concerns about the undead army and her idea to use the essence in a salve to ward off the cold.

Finn, meanwhile, couldn't help but be utterly charmed by Mimi's infectious enthusiasm and Shalys' quiet concern. A warm smile graced his face as he watched the two interact, and he couldn't resist the urge to dote on Mimi. However, he was swiftly reminded of the situation at hand when Shalys mentioned the undead army. Finn introduced himself to Shalys and inquired about her background, wondering if she was from the See.

The atmosphere among the caravan was a mix of tension and camaraderie as they went about their duties. Despite the looming threat of the undead army, there was a sense of unity and determination among the group. They knew they had to rely on each other to survive the perilous journey ahead.

As they worked, the cold wind carried whispers of danger, the distant groans and shuffling of the undead army hidden by the glacier's icy mists. They knew they didn't have much time before the army would be upon them, but for now, they focused on the task at hand and the fragile bond forming between them.

As the adventurers who ventured into the heart of the glacier returned to the surface, they brought with them incredible pieces of the once fearsome Cinder Scourge. Among the items were chunks of its hardened carapace, pristine salt glands, and long filets of flesh. The group exchanged words of encouragement and determination with those above, sharing a moment of understanding about the perilous tasks that lay ahead for both parties. Then, without wasting any more time, the adventurers below delved deeper into the glacier's heart to continue their own dangerous quest.

Meanwhile, the caravan above finally set off, embarking on their arduous journey through the frozen wastes. The vanguard of the undead army was relentless, harrying the caravan day and night over the next two days. Their constant pursuit left the travelers with no time for rest. As the relentless chase wore on, the members of the caravan felt the strain of exhaustion taking its toll on their bodies and minds.

The vanguard of the undead army was a horrifying sight to behold. Comprised of various types of undead creatures, each one more terrifying than the last, it was clear that this was no ordinary force. At the forefront of the vanguard were skeletal warriors, their bones clattering and rattling as they marched in unison. Clad in tattered remnants of armor and wielding rusted weapons, these skeletal minions made for a formidable first line of attack.

Behind the skeletal warriors, legions of shambling zombies staggered forward. Their rotting flesh hung from their bones, and their lifeless eyes stared blankly ahead. Emitting guttural moans, these zombies moved relentlessly in pursuit of the caravan, driven by an insatiable hunger for the living.

Among the ranks of the undead vanguard were also ghouls, faster and more cunning than their zombie counterparts. These twisted, corpse-like creatures had elongated limbs and razor-sharp claws, which they used to great effect in tearing through their enemies. The ghouls slithered and crawled between the ranks of undead, adding a terrifying level of unpredictability to the vanguard's movements.

In the skies above, wraiths and specters floated ominously, their ethereal forms casting a chilling pall over the battlefield. These ghostly beings could pass through solid objects, and their icy touch could drain the life force of their victims, making them some of the most feared foes in the undead vanguard.

Commanding this nightmarish force was a powerful necromancer, a figure shrouded in darkness and mystery. This sinister individual wielded dark magics, animating and controlling the undead legions with an iron will. The necromancer's presence was palpable, casting a shadow of dread over the caravan and the lands they traversed.

Together, the vanguard of the undead army struck fear into the hearts of all who encountered them, as they relentlessly pursued the caravan through the frozen wastes.

Despite the seemingly insurmountable odds, the caravan pushed forward with the help of Finn's celestial healing and divine warmth. His abilities provided the much-needed respite and comfort amidst the harsh conditions and unending pressure from the undead forces. Even so, two days without rest was a heavy burden for the caravan members to bear, and they knew that they could not continue at this pace indefinitely.

As the undead vanguard continued to snap at their heels, the caravan members pressed on, their hearts heavy with the knowledge that the rest of their journey would be fraught with danger. They steeled themselves for the battles ahead, knowing that the only way to survive was to rely on their skills, their wits, and, most importantly, each other. Their determination, forged by adversity and strengthened by the bonds they formed, would be the driving force behind their desperate march through the treacherous frozen landscape.
On the dawn of the third day, as the caravan members trudged wearily through the snow, a glimmer of hope appeared on the horizon. The sky began to shift in color, turning from the dark, oppressive clouds that had hung overhead for days, to a soft golden hue. As the sun began to rise, the first rays of sunlight broke through the cloud cover, casting a warm, brilliant light across the frozen landscape.

As the sunlight touched the undead vanguard, a strange phenomenon occurred. The skeletal warriors, zombies, and ghouls began to slow their advance, as if the very light itself was sapping their strength. The wraiths and specters, once terrifying in their ethereal forms, began to flicker and fade in the presence of the sun's warmth. The entire undead army appeared to be weakened by the dawn's light, their movements becoming sluggish and uncoordinated.

Seizing this unexpected opportunity, the caravan members rallied their strength and quickened their pace. Finn, though weary from days of providing celestial healing and divine warmth, called upon his faith once more and invoked a blessing upon the caravan. A warm, golden aura enveloped the travelers, further invigorating them and bolstering their resolve.

As the caravan pressed on, the distance between them and the undead vanguard increased. The sun continued to rise, its light growing stronger and more radiant with each passing minute. The undead army, once a relentless force of terror, now seemed to struggle against the light, their once-fearsome numbers dwindling and their advance faltering.

By the time the sun had fully risen, the vanguard of the undead army had been forced to retreat, disappearing into the shadows from which they had emerged. The caravan, though exhausted and battered from the harrowing chase, had gained a much-needed reprieve. The members took advantage of this momentary respite to rest, regroup, and tend to their wounds, knowing full well that the undead threat still loomed on the horizon. But for now, at least, they were safe in the warm embrace of the dawn's light.

While traveling through the frozen landscape on their way to the shrine, Finn, Mimi, and Shalys came across a group of travelers encased in ice. Their faces show expressions of fear and pain, clearly having fallen victim to the harsh elements.

The travelers encased in ice appear to be a diverse group, hailing from various races and backgrounds. Their attire suggests that they were once a group of merchants, adventurers, and scholars who might have been journeying together for safety or shared purpose. However, a dark corruption seems to emanate from around the last two figures, making it difficult to discern the details.

The first figure is a tall, muscular human male, his beard and hair encrusted with frost. He's clad in heavy furs, with a battle-worn sword strapped to his side. Despite the fear etched onto his face, his posture suggests that he was trying to protect his companions when disaster struck.

Next to him is a female elf, her delicate features and porcelain skin marred by the frost that clings to her cheeks and the tips of her long, pointed ears. Her robes, embroidered with intricate patterns, indicate that she may have been a mage or a healer. Her hands, outstretched in a casting gesture, seem to have been in the midst of casting a spell when the ice engulfed her.

A stout dwarf stands close by, his thick beard and braided hair frozen in time, as well as his armor and battle axe, which gleam with a cold sheen under the ice. His fierce expression reveals his determination, even in the face of certain doom.

There is also a lithe halfling, wrapped in a thick cloak, clutching a lute to her chest. Her eyes are wide with terror, but the defiant tilt of her chin suggests that she may have been attempting to rally her companions with a song of courage or inspiration.

As the scene progresses toward the last two figures, a dark corruption seems to permeate the ice surrounding them. A hooded figure, possibly another mage or rogue, stands beside a scholarly human or half-elf clutching a tome to their chest. The ice that encases them is thick, but the darkness within it distorts their features, making it challenging to determine the extent of the corruption's influence.

The corruption appears to be seeping out from around the last two figures, its tendrils weaving through the ice like veins of shadow, tainting the frozen tableau. The sight of these unfortunate souls, frozen in their last moments of desperation and shrouded in the encroaching darkness, is both haunting and heart-wrenching.

As the group debates their course of action, they sense a change in the atmosphere. A once-benevolent ice elemental, now corrupted by dark magic, is a tragic sight to behold. Where it once shimmered with an ethereal, pristine beauty, it now bears the weight of the malignant forces that have warped its very essence.

Standing at an imposing height of fifteen feet, the ice elemental's original form was a breathtaking blend of crystalline ice and frost, sculpted into a humanoid shape. Its limbs, once graceful and fluid in motion, have now become jagged and twisted, as if the corruption has disrupted the natural flow of the ice that makes up its form. The dark magic has stained the once-transparent ice with a sickly, mottled black hue, causing it to resemble corrupted obsidian more than pure ice.

Its head, which used to be a smooth and featureless expanse, now bears sinister hollows where massive eye should have been. The dark magic has carved out a hollow, leaving behind pitch-black voids that seem to draw in and consume all light that falls upon them. The elemental's once-smooth surface is now marred with deep fissures and cracks, as if the corruption is tearing its very form apart from the inside.

The elemental's once-gentle aura of frost and snow has been twisted into a malevolent and oppressive force. As it moves, it leaves a trail of dirty grey snow that falls like ash, withering plants and turning the very air around it frigid and lifeless tinged with the oppression of despair (Grade D.

Even as the once-benevolent ice elemental has been transformed into a monstrous creature of darkness, faint glimmers of its former beauty still shimmer beneath the corruption's hold. A sense of tragic loss emanates from the creature, hinting at the pure, majestic being it once was, now trapped within the cruel embrace of the dark magic that has consumed it.

OOC:

1. The caravan faces a difficult choice: stop and attempt to free these unfortunate souls or press on, knowing that the undead army is still not far behind.
2. Finn, Mimi, and Shalys must decide whether to face this powerful corrupted ice elemental in combat, find a way to restore its natural balance, or focus their efforts on rescuing the trapped travelers, all while keeping in mind the ever-present threat of the undead vanguard
3. How will Finn, Mimi, and Shalys handle this difficult situation? Will they prioritize the safety of the caravan and the frozen travelers or confront the corrupted ice elemental? What creative solutions or tactics will they employ to overcome these combined challenges?

Spoiler: Finn's Assessment

Name: Kaltvarr, the Tainted Frost (Corrupted Ice Elemental)

Abilities for Kaltvarr
1) Frostbite Claws - Starting Grade: E
Requirement: Strength C
Description: The elemental's jagged, corrupted ice limbs are capable of inflicting frostbite with each strike, causing severe pain and slowing the target's movements. This skill can be upgraded to increase the frostbite effect, making it more potent and difficult to recover from.

2) Icy Winds - Starting Grade: D
Requirement: Intelligence C, Precision C
Description: The elemental can summon gusts of frigid, corrupted wind to blow away and disorient its enemies. The winds can also extinguish fires and weaken fire-based attacks. Upgrading this skill increases the range, intensity, and duration of the icy winds.

3) Glacial Tomb - Starting Grade: C
Requirement: Intelligence B
Description: The elemental can encase its target in a block of corrupted ice, immobilizing them and inflicting continuous frost damage. The target can break free with enough effort, but the ice will weaken and slow them down. Upgrading this skill increases the duration of the immobilization and the frost damage inflicted.

4) Corrupted Ice Shards - Starting Grade: C
Requirement: Strength B, Precision B
Description: The elemental can hurl corrupted ice shards at its enemies, dealing piercing and frost damage. Upgrading this skill increases the number of ice shards thrown and their damage output.

5) Frozen Barrier - Starting Grade: B*
Requirement: Fortitude B
Description: The elemental can summon a thick barrier of corrupted ice to protect itself from physical and magical attacks. The barrier can be shattered, but it will regenerate over time. Upgrading this skill increases the barrier's durability and regeneration speed. (Limiter 2 per encounter)

6) Dark Blizzard [Ability] - Starting Grade: B*
Requirement: Intelligence B, Icy Winds C
Description: The elemental can unleash a powerful blizzard infused with dark magic, obscuring vision and dealing continuous frost and dark damage to those caught within. Upgrading this skill increases the range, damage, and duration of the Dark Blizzard. (Limiter Power up 1, Limit 1 per encounter)

7) Dark Frost Nova [Ability] - Starting Grade: A**
Requirement: Intelligence A, Dark Blizzard B
Description: The elemental can unleash a massive burst of dark, corrupted frost energy in a wide radius, dealing heavy frost and dark damage to all targets within range. This ability has a long cooldown and can't be used frequently. Upgrading this skill increases the damage and range of the Dark Frost Nova. (Limiter Power up 1, Limit 1 per encounter)

These skills and abilities should provide a challenging encounter for Finn, as they combine the elemental's natural frost abilities with the dark corruption that has twisted its form. The combination of crowd control, area of effect damage, and powerful single-target attacks will force Finn to adapt his strategies and utilize his skills effectively to overcome the Corrupted Ice Elemental.

Titles for Kaltvarr
1) Frost Sentinel: A guardian of the frozen lands, once responsible for maintaining the delicate balance of the icy environment. This title signifies the character's deep connection to the frost and their innate ability to control and manipulate ice.

2) Glacial Warden: A protector of nature, specifically safeguarding the frigid habitats and their inhabitants. This title highlights the character's dedication to preserving the sanctity of the icy realms.

3) Winter's Embrace: A being that embodies the essence of winter, drawing strength and power from the cold season. This title reflects the character's affinity for the chilling season and their ability to harness its power.

4) Crystal Shepherd: A guardian who once guided and protected the ice formations and their inhabitants from harm. This title represents the character's gentle and nurturing nature towards the frozen environment.

5) Blizzard's Whisper: A being who communicates with the howling winds and swirling snowstorms, understanding their secrets and mysteries. This title emphasizes the character's deep connection to the blizzards and their ability to influence them.

6) Frostweaver: A master of ice magic, adept at shaping and controlling the frost to serve their purpose. This title showcases the character's proficiency in ice manipulation and their knowledge of frost enchantments.

7) Glacial Harmony: A once tranquil and serene being, existing in perfect harmony with the cold and frosty surroundings. This title signifies the character's ability to maintain peace and balance within the icy environment before their corruption.

 

[gmimperfecti]

As Shalys took her gamble and flung the glacial slime salves towards Kaltvarr, the unexpected sight of the elf's audacious move caught the attention of everyone present. The salves hit the ice elemental with a splat, temporarily leaving a mark before being absorbed into the icy form of the entity. The impact, small as it might have been, caused Kaltvarr to momentarily falter, his focus wavering. Was it recognition or merely distraction? The moment was too fleeting to tell.

The subtle shift in Kaltvarr's focus was all Finn needed. Seizing the moment, he managed to gather his remaining strength, focusing his will on his sword arm. The holy aura around the blade intensified, flickering like a beacon amidst the creeping cold. Finn let out a strained cry, the last words of his song turning into a battle cry as he drove the blade downwards. The icy tomb around him shivered at the impact, fracturing lines appearing on its surface as the holy light clashed against the elemental frost.

Then, with a blinding burst of light, Finn's Horde Breaker strike shattered the icy tomb, a shower of crystalline shards raining down around him. The shockwave of the strike rippled across the frozen plain, its holy aura pulsating against the icy chill. Despite the cold gnawing at his vitality, Finn had broken free, demonstrating the indomitable spirit of a true knight.

As the blinding light of the strike faded, the reality of Finn's state became apparent. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his strength visibly depleted from the desperate struggle. But there was a glint of stubborn resolve in his eyes, a promise that he would not fall easily.

However, the clash had taken its toll on the knight. Finn's left arm, where the dark curse from the tome had tried to spread, bore a visible mark of struggle, the flesh underneath his armor tinged with a sickly hue. The pain was intense, but the holy light had managed to halt the corruption, leaving him with a clear, albeit painful, reminder of the consequences of his selfless act.

Seeing their companion break free from his icy prison, the other caravan members let out a cheer, the triumphant cry echoing across the icy landscape. But there was little time for celebration. With Kaltvarr momentarily distracted and Finn still weak, the caravan needed to act swiftly. Shalys, taking charge of the situation, ordered Mimi to help free the traveler holding the ancient tome, hoping that they might possess some knowledge to deal with the lingering crisis.

Meanwhile, Kaltvarr, taken aback by the sudden chain of events, seemed to be in a state of confusion. His icy form flickered, his menacing aura wavering under the onslaught of uncertainty. The elemental looked at the remnants of his Glacial Tomb, now shattered and melting away, and then at Finn, standing resilient amidst the wreckage. It was a sight that gave pause even to a creature of frost and fury.

As the moments passed, an unspoken tension hung in the icy air. The caravan members, exhausted yet determined, prepared for their next course of action. Kaltvarr, an elemental now caught in a web of conflict and confusion, stood eerily silent, his next move unpredictable. Finn, the beacon of hope for the caravan, stood amidst the shards of his icy prison, his strength waning yet his resolve unwavering.

This was the calm before the storm, a moment of respite before the next onslaught. But in the face of impending danger and insurmountable odds, the caravan stood firm, bound by a shared goal and a newfound sense of unity.

The breathless silence was shattered as Mimi sprang into action. Her paws pounded against the frozen tundra as she dashed towards the scholar trapped in ice, her heart pounding with every beat. She had always been more comfortable running than thinking, and right now, she had a clear task to focus on. Fear and uncertainty were replaced by purpose.

But as she neared the encased scholar, a terrible realization dawned on her - she had no idea how to free the man without hurting him. She hesitated for a split second, but then steeled herself. There was no time for indecision, not when Finn's life was on the line.

Her clawed hands clenched into fists, veins straining against the strain. In a blur of fur and muscle, she struck at the ice encasing the scholar. Her first hit landed squarely on the icy surface, echoing with a resonant crunch as tiny fractures snaked away from the point of impact. With each subsequent hit, the fractures grew in size and spread further apart, revealing the scared man beneath.

There was a raw power in her strikes, an unrestrained fury that was only amplified by her desperation. But the effort took a toll on her. Sharp pain ran up her arms, a warning that she was pushing herself beyond her limits. But she continued, her focus solely on freeing the scholar from his icy prison.

A grunt of effort followed her final punch, a solid high kick aimed at the weakened section of the ice. The force sent the scholar tumbling backward, his prison of ice shattering around him.

The ice had finally started to retreat. The frozen travelers were stirring, their gasps and cries of surprise punctuating the air as they came to terms with their sudden awakening.

Mimi, with her relentless tenacity, was now left with fists that were raw and broken, her strength seeping out as drops of blood dripped from her mangled hands.

Where the salves had hit the icy behemoth seeped into the cracks and crevices of its icy body it's ice continued to clear of cloudiness to return back to immaculate clarity. The elemental's movements were slow as it let out a low howl like wind blowing through a cave, seemingly in discomfort. The elemental was a formidable foe, its wrath as unpredictable as the very elements it was composed of. Would it stay frozen and immobile or fall like an avalanche upon the caravan?

The once frozen travelers began to slowly emerge from their icy prisons, confusion clouding their faces. But even amidst the confusion, there was a sense of gratitude, a silent acknowledgement towards the trio who had risked their lives for them.

The true battle was just beginning. The frozen tundra echoed with the rising howl of the elemental, a chilling sound that sent shivers down their spines.

But as everyone braced for the elemental's next attack, something unexpected happened. A soft hum filled the air, a counter harmony to the elemental's howl, a resonance caused by the quivering of the infused arrow Shaly's had fired. The song, once soft and barely audible, was now growing in intensity, wrapping around the scene like a protective cocoon. As the song filled the air, a strange calmness descended upon the scene. The song had a soothing quality, like a lullaby sung by a loving mother to her child.

The elemental seemed to react to this tune, its own howling striking a cord and it's movements becoming less erratic, less hostile. It seemed to be swaying slightly, entranced by the melody. The melody seeped into its icy form, soothing the rancor within. The tundra fell silent, save for the lullaby that now filled the air.

As the final notes of the melody drifted away, a profound silence once more fell over the landscape. The elemental, once a raging behemoth, now stood still, the anger within its icy form finally chilled.

Kaltvarr's crystalline form shivered with the resonance of his voice, which echoed like an icy gale whipping across the tundra. His gaze was distant, a window to an ancient, storied past filled with power, betrayal, and regret.

"Centuries ago, before mortals took hold upon these lands, I dwelled peacefully within the crystalline heart of this vast icy expanse," he began, his tone as cold and distant as the tundra itself. "In a time before the name Kaltvarr was ever uttered in fear or awe, I was just another child of the Frost, serving the land with my brethren."

His gaze hardened, the cerulean glow of his eye illuminating the frozen ground. "Yet peace, like the thaw of spring, is but a fleeting moment in the grand tapestry of time. One fateful day, that scholar," Kaltvar raised a long, icicle like finger towards the scholar and the tomb, "Obviously a winter wizard corrupted by the lure of black ice, ventured into my realm. His quest, fueled by an insane noble, sought to harness the heart of frost within me for a purpose most nefarious."

The elemental prince's icy countenance shifted subtly, reflecting the shadows of the past. "He brought with him the Scriptures of the Frostfall, a tome of malevolent power so great that even I, a prince of frost, could not resist its twisted allure."

The surrounding air grew colder as Kaltvarr continued. "A tome not of this world, made of spectral ice, both ephemeral and solid. Its icy sheets whispered insidious prophecies, echoing the eternal cold of the Void, promising a cataclysmic winter of the world's end. Its pages shimmered with an eerie luminescence, casting an unsettling indigo glow around. Holding it... felt like embracing the dread and power of an endless winter." Kaltvarr's description of the tome was poetic if accurate.

He paused, his gaze falling on the travelers who had, unknowingly, aided in this dire mission. "Driven by the mad whispers of the Frostfall, the winter wizard sought to perform a ritual, a twisted rite to unlock the eternal cold contained within me. But I resisted, drawing upon every shred of my strength to foil his plan."

His voice took on a solemn tone. "In the ensuing struggle, I attempted to seal away the scholar and the Scripture, drawing upon the unwitting aid of the other travelers who accompanied him. They had no idea the dread purpose they were hired for. Their faces still haunt me... A mix of confusion, fear, and... betrayal." Kaltvarr looked at the recently reanimated travelers, thanks to Finn's holy healing abilities. "A burden lifted. One you now bear mortal champion," Katlvarr looked at Finn's body, so battered.

His gaze swept over the assembled crowd, as if searching for understanding in their wide, frightened eyes. "I failed to seal the Scripture... and the rest, as you have witnessed."

As Kaltvarr's tale came to an end, a silence fell over the group, a solemn quiet broken only by the whistling wind of the tundra. Then a dry, icy laugh cut through the stillness. All eyes turned towards its source: the dark scholar!

Slowly, the winter wizard rose to his feet, ice falling from his cloaked form as he straightened. The remnants of Kaltvarr's icy prison that had encased him shattering into a thousand shards in the process. He looked at Kaltvarr with a sneer.

"Accusations," he spat, his voice crackling like frost on a winter's morning. "What a quaint way to put it, Kaltvarr. Yes, I sought your power, all enchanters do. You monsters are to be used. I tapped into the heart of Frost within you, and I regret nothing to aid my lord his ascent."

A glint in his eyes suggested madness, but his voice remained steady and calm. "The Scriptures of the Frostfall are not a curse, Kaltvarr. They are the key to rebirth, to renewal. To purge the world of its current corruption and start anew. You call it a cataclysm, I call it salvation."

The frosty air seemed to grow colder as he held out a hand. The Scriptures of the Frostfall, lying abandoned where Mimi and Finn had freed it, stirred. Its icy pages rustled, shimmered, and then the entire tome flew into the scholar's waiting hand. An eerie indigo light spread out from the tome, illuminating the scholar's twisted smile.

Suddenly, the whispers seemed to grow louder, more insistent. They swirled around the group like a snowstorm, their insidious words gnawing at the edges of everyone's minds. Some clutched their heads in pain, others stared at the scholar in fear or defiance.

"The winter is coming," the scholar declared, holding the Scriptures of the Frostfall aloft. "And the world shall be reborn in frost and ice. Kaltvarr, you can't stop it. You tried once and failed. Please, I invite you to try again! You've already accepted the seed, you can not resist the Frostfall. Embrace your end."

The eerie luminescence from the tome grew brighter, casting long shadows across the tundra. The whispers became a cacophony, the prophecies of winter's end ringing out loud and clear. Many huddled together, uncertain of what was to come.

 

[gmimperfecti]

Finn's powerful voice reverberated across the expanse, his words a lighthouse amidst the chilling storm summoned by the Frost Ascendant. His sword, pulsating with divine energy, cut through the gusting winds as he boldly stepped forward. The holy light emanating from him danced around, banishing the creeping shadows of despair and bolstering the courage of the spectators who watched in silent awe.

Behind him, Shalys acted swiftly, her bolts finding their mark with deadly precision. Though they did little to harm the spectral being, they served their purpose in distracting the Ascendant, fragmenting its focus away from Finn and towards her.

Meanwhile, Mimi circled the creature, her movements cautious yet determined. The explosive bolt clutched tight in her hand, her eyes were fixed on the Scriptures of the Frostfall, the source of the frosty transformation.

Finn's assault began with the full fury of a righteous knight. His blade clashed against the ice-encrusted form of the Ascendant, each strike echoing across the desolate tundra. But it was not just Finn's sword that opposed the monstrosity, it was the unwavering conviction behind each swing, the relentless refusal to surrender to despair. His energy resonated with the caravan, their own spirits rising as they drew strength from his unwavering resolve.

Even the elemental Kaltavar watched silently, his swirling icy form a stark contrast against the scene of battle. He had seen many things in his long life, but this... this was a defiance he had not seen before, a defiance against not just a physical enemy, but against the very essence of despair and surrender.

Shalys continued her barrage, drawing the Ascendant's attention further away from Mimi. Her bolts whistled through the air, the sharp tips gleaming ominously under the ethereal light emitted by the spectral Frost Ascendant.

And then, the moment came.

With the Ascendant momentarily distracted, Mimi lunged towards the Scriptures. Her fingers brushed against the freezing surface of the ancient tome, the icy chill nearly unbearable. Yet, there was warmth radiating from her, a warmth born of pure innocence that shone brightly against the icy cold of the Scriptures.

In that moment, the Scriptures seemed to tremble under her touch, as if recognizing the pure innocence emanating from the doggirl. The glowing symbols on the cover began to fade, replaced by a soft, warm light. Slowly but surely, the icy tendrils holding the Ascendant's form together began to dissipate, his form flickering and weakening under the combined efforts of the heroes and Mimi's touch.

With a final, defiant cry, the spectral Frost Ascendant shuddered and collapsed, its form dissolving into a cloud of frost that was quickly swept away by the winds. The Scriptures of the Frostfall, now in Mimi's grasp, was no longer a source of malevolent energy, but rather an ordinary, albeit ancient, tome. The spectral glow had completely disappeared, replaced by the warmth of Mimi's innocence.

The tundra fell silent, the chilling winds finally abating. All eyes were on the spot where the Ascendant had once stood, now empty save for the dissipating cloud of frost. The heroes had triumphed, their indomitable spirit and determination a beacon of hope in the face of despair.

The Scriptures of the Frostfall was freed from its curse, the Frost Ascendant defeated. And amidst the relief and joy that washed over them, they knew that they had not only won a battle, but had also reclaimed hope and faith in the face of the impossible. Their victory served as a beacon, a reminder that even in the harshest winter, the warmth of courage and unity could thaw the coldest hearts.