|Session Time Frame
|From: 1, Moviananle 1588
|To: 6, Janivier 1589
All but a few of the players were present at the game on Friday.
The party began their trip to the Frozen Wastes on a very cold first day of Movianable, despite the cold, it was a nice day to be riding. It was quite different walking in the ankle deep powder, and having to keep somthing over your face to keep the air from freezing your breath. It was hard to believe that only a few weeks ago it was still warm enough for some birds.
As they readied their enterage, they could tell that the precious time spent training had already benifited their small band. Though stiff and cold, the individual soldiers still insured all their equipment had been secured and that their team was suffeciently protected from the weather.
Mesinplas did some quick mental calculations as he watched the 60 some odd individuals work. He seemed at least satisfied with the conclusion. All in all this was a lot of people to be moving at once. Major M’Kilas was bringing two full Lines plus the additional eight that always accompanied her, though not quite Spell thieves yet, they were still skilled in stealth and various other areas that would prove useful. Captain Glanhak had decided to bring one Line with him as well, trained in the art of the street. Captain Kai was bringing a line of her warriors as well as the five personal gaurds that she had, if they got into a fight along the way what ever it was had better be big. Mesinplas had decided to bring his Sweet Heart Laners with him, though not as skilled at thuggery has Beldin’s, nor at stealth as Sareth’s, his guys would be a well rounded group emphasizing on organizational skills. Rather large for an envoy, then this was no regular envoy.
They made good time ‘til the storm hit on the third day, while it wouldn’t slow them enough to throw off their schedule, it did however, make the going that much harder. The novilty of travel started wearing off as well making the group less happy about the mirade things they had to do before and after camp. This was going to be a long trip and they hadn’t even got the worst of it yet.
By the eighth day, when Mesinplas called the halt, grumbles and complaints spread through the crowd. These grumblings turned to assumptions as they watched him crane his head trying to listen to some far off noise. Graham and Illi-dal wondred at the fact that he could even hear in the snow storm let alone at a distance that neither of them could. With a quick discription of the noise and a gesture to the direction Graham was asked to investigate.
Graham was a good 80 paces from the main group, it was far in this knee deep snow. If any thing happened he would have to wait precious seconds before the party got to him. That’s when he saw the dark masses barreling toward him. He readied his bow, realizing only when he took aim that the storm played to many tricks with vision. They were on him, stone bulls burst into his vision each spewing a noxious green breath at him. Every where he was touched by their breath his skin turned stiff and ashy. With a curse he droped his cross-bow, and in one motion simultaniously pulled his sword and cleaved the horn from one’s head.
The sound of a battles begining, the rage of what sounded like a bull and the curses of Graham were enough. The party dashed into action, yelling commands to their units along the way.
“Sweet Heart lane, protect the wagon!”
“Shadow Lines setup defensive perimeter!”
“Laughing Priests start getting an area set for healing and warmth.”
These beasts were not your ordinary cow, besides the rock like texture, and bad breath they where smarter, a lot smarter. It was all Graham could do to keep from getting gored, but he delivered yet another blow to stubby the wonder bull. Sweat was starting to roll off his brow with the excertion of keeping out of their swings. Then his small world exploded in a cloud of white powder, as Sareth just as pale as the snow itself thrusted deep with her dagger, the esuing blood covered her arm and right shoulder giving form to the apparition. He took the distraction and gave another great blow to Stubby.
“From the winds take wing and set out to aid me in this conflict, Kwaaa, Kwaaa…” Messinplas began his chant surprised at how real the hawk creems he made sounded.
Again the Bulls attempted to gore their would be prey. But this time at least one of their attentions was addressed to Sareth giving Graham a minor relief.
“Rejoice in your love, be inboldened in your love, find your love filling your actions and your ardor lending them strength, yet to those that would hurt my love let them feel the frigidness of celebance.” Even in battle Cherry’s words could cause man and woman to rise to the occasion.
“Annoya, bless these beings and let the little things perish before their patience.” The new powers of Mai-Khai, as a priestess of this new god had just started to bloom. Already she was usining them instinctively.
Sareth filling invigorated stabbed again and again, finding it a bit harder now that the bull was paying attention to her.
Graham Slashed again, another gush of blood sprayed to the wind. His mucles burning with every swing.
“Harry the bulls!” finally stopping his strange chant only when a falcon showed up, this was short lived though, just long enough for him to give the command and return to casting. “For your, dirt a give chase, to the fields I give life, To a parched throat I give comfort.”
Graham must be losing his mind, not only was it snowing but it was raining as well. The thought distracted him allowing old stubs to get even for the horn. the blow took Graham off his feet, he more felt, than heard the sound of craking ribs as the blow was dilivered.
“let your love flow, search out new vistas, explore water, the ocean, even a river, all places are good for love.” Cherry’s prayer gave even more proof that Graham was indeed still sane as alot more water drinched the melee.
“CHARGE!” filled with passion and needing some rlief Mai-khai spurred her horse onward reklessly. She paid the price for this as her horse slipped on a slippery patch made by the created water freezing in the cold. As the horse fell she tryed to tumble away only to find that she had been tangled in the saddle, the full weight of the horse came down on her leg making it feel as if it was about to break. Her warriors dismounted their steeds and rushed for battle giving only glances at the explosion of snow.
Sareth again stabbed at the bull catching its jowel with her left hand dagger, spraying more blood.
All the water started taking its toll. The bulls had begun moving slower. Taking advantage of this Graham swung feircely only to be foiled by the ice now forming under his feet it was all he could do not to be layed out on his back.
“Sphaira Rhigos!” with this he curled his hand as if holding a ball, the cold coalessed into a solid sphere. He took but a second and hurled it at the one horned bull. His mark was true, hitting the creature in the eye. Instantly freezing the remaining water, effectively blinding it.
The bull must have had enough, Stubby atempted to run. This resulted in Graham cutting the other horn and Sareth stabbing it visiously in the groin. The frantic panicking rush only furthered the bulls problem causing it to slip on the icy ground sliding thirty feet. The second Bull made a run for it, following the lead of its comerade, it to slipped on the icey surface slamming into the first with a crash that was heard over the wind itself. The third didn’t even slide away as it fell fully to the ground its hooves unable to find purchase on the ice.
Cherry ran to the spot that Mai-Khai had fallen, praying that she was unhurt. She was glad to find that the horse and Mai was alright if a little bruised. Quickly she began coaching the horse to stand as to get it off of Mais leg.
Mai-Khai, made a few clicking sounds, the horse responding instantly. As if she was born in the saddle she rose with a skill that was found in few. Her men turned to see here rise just as a few finished off the remaining bulls, looking more like a linch mob than a trained unit.
“That is why you do not run heedless in the snow men, if it was not for my training I would have been hurt seriously or even killed, take that as a lesson.” Whether her unit bought the lesson or not, they non-the-less had a deeper appreciation for their leader’s tenacity and fortitude.
As the group clamored together to see to various wounds and damage, Illi-Dal began dragging the corpse of one bull back to the imprompt camp.
“What? I’m tiered of eating rations and this is good meat.” She exclaimed to the curious looks of some of the men.
That night they tended to their wounds, finding that Mai-Khais leg was just badly sprained and not broken, and ate a warm meal. The next day the trek began as it had gone before, cold and monotinous. There were little pleasures in their trip, on the eight-teenth the entire group celebrated the “Day of Blissful Intintions”, a winter celebration of the lovers where one gives freely their companionship, to fellow celebrators. On the twentieth the group stopped yet again as Corporal Dal spotted somthing in the snow. To their surprise, the party saw before them a dying Humunculus. Knowing that they do not stray far from their owners due to a connection made by their very creation they went in search. They found a poor man dressed in Imperium garb, beaten and robbed. The party decided that they would question him being that their was a war and all. The pleasure was given to Cherry. His story was that of a merchant, that wasn’t very religious, who had been traveling back to the Imperium only to be set upon by barbarians. The party looked around and found wagon debris, colaberating his story. Even Sareth, who sat in on the interigation, was assured that he had told the truth. The man gave his name to be Gregory Schmitt and his friend was Pete. The party decided that there was little to fear from these two, so allowed them to come with them to Autenburg.
The rest of the trip went on endlessly, interrupted only by a blizzard lasting three days, getting lost twice, encountering a scout patrol of goblins, only to have a war band seak them out in the artic to exact revenge for their deaths. Despite these conditions it wasn’t until Decantentors thirtieth, when they lost a full one third of their horses, that the caravan took any losses. On the sixth of Janivier they finally reached the outpost for visitors Kaldrstigr. They rented rooms at several inns and took the night off.