With the graciousness of the tavern's host or the old man...or perhaps even the knight's, Kormak manages to secure a place in the common room for the night.  His sleep is fitful, but finally, dawn breaks and he consumes the offered meal with relish.  He is fit and ready to go as soon as the others are up and about.

Ellinel is very quiet during the revelations concerning Sigfried and Fjonya the night before but this morning he seems to have taken a grim expression that runs counter to his normally scattered manner.

"It seems that the undead and their machinations cannot be avoided even in this distant land.  If the only way I can get some peace and breathing room to operate in is to create it then so be it."

Arkemos spent much of the night sleepless, as he usually did. During the early hoursof the morning, he had a simple breakfast then went outside to practice his sword-forms shirtless. The warlock's muscles rippled as he swung the massive sword as if it were a twig, cutting through imaginary phantoms and foes with deadly grace.

Dawn had broken by the time he was done so he went inside, took a hot bath and then rejoined the others at breakfast. Finishing the meal he headed out the front door behind the others, towards the old woman's abode. "What can you tell me about this old woman, old man?" He asked the storyteller, as they began walking towards their destination. "Should we be ready for some unpleasantness, given your track record with women thus far?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:10, Mon 24 Nov 2008.

Brakkus too finds it difficult to rest, he has grown used to his own company and is uncomfortable sleeping indoors. He eats a frugal breakfast and gathers together his meagre belongings and in no time is ready to hike off into the forest to seek the old woman. [Private to GM: Do we have to pay for a space on the floor as well or does the storyteller cover it?]

Beren slept uneasily, his sword in his right hand, his left hand twitching at regular intervals.

When he awoke, he spent some time outside meditating, focusing his mind on the outer spheres from whence his powers came. He cut a loaf of bread, some cheese, drank an ale and followed the others silently, the walk already taxing his feeble legs.

 The sword is the weapon of a knight, even as his belt and spurs are the signs of his rank, and even the savage warriors of the northlands, far from the knightly ideal though they are recognise enough of that simple truth that Adonis takes no real offence when the old man declines his initial offer - such a thing must be thought upon after all.

 After a short vigil of prayer, Adonis - unlike most everyone else - settles down to the sleep of the innocent and just, snoring like a rusty ripsaw cutting through cordwood underwater and occasionally elbowing anyone unfortunate enough to be sharing the common area within a dozen or so feet of the fireplace, which is where he 'staked a claim' some time before... Even more depressingly he's up bright, early and apparently with boundless vigour an hour or so before the sun - in time to take advantage of the false dawn to splash around with icy water from the rain-barrel, stretch a bit and wander back inside shirtless, leaving Arkemos to impress the morning birds with his exercise and dedication whilst he snags a good, hearty breakfast.

 If there's any mead around, that too becomes part of breakfast.

Once all have done their morning preparations and are ready to go, the cursed warrior, who finally introduces himself quite simply as Bjorn, explains his plans.
"We will head straight for the forest to reach the wise woman's hut before nightfall. No roads lead there and there might be some wild starved animals if we're unlucky enough, so be prepared."

He glances at Adonis as he continues...
"I'll accompany you to give that sword back to Olga the Wise. It will be for her to decide if she gives you such gift. My part in this will be done then, that much is certain. Old Thorkel didn't appear to me, he appeared to you all in my presence, that means he's counting on you to do the killing and on me to do the explaining."

His 'explaining' done, he leads the way out of the village, heading northwest toward the forest.


OOC: You may discuss along the way but I think we've role-played quite enough that you have at least an idea who you're adventuring with and are all itchy for some action, yes?

Kormak, none to eager to have anything to do with witches, or vampires for that matter, silently follows the old man into the forest.  Kormak has his bow out and scans the path ahead for signs of danger...

Arkemos walked ahead to one side of Bjorn. "I personally don't see the rason for seeing this old coot. We have identified the problem, this baron, and we should head straight to him and lop of his head." Grumbled the Warlock as he ducked undeneath a bramble with a scowl.

Walking behind the pair, Brakkus takes exception to Arkemos' comment. "With an attitude like that you won't live to be an old man, you young whippersnapper" says the hermit with a smile.

"The elderly can occasionnaly be a font of occult knowledge," Beren added. "Especially where witches are concerned. Additional information does not hurt..."

 Adonis is armoured and ready to go in good time, answering Bjorn's offer with a cheerful nod of his head and a firm slap upon the back that probably would have been better directed at someone not prematurely old, then stretches his legs somewhat to put him up at the front of the column for as long as there's an obvious path (which is plainly where the most important person in the group belongs, by his way of thinking - if it can be called that).

 "Don't be foolish, you always go and talk to the local wise folk before heading off on this sort of thing, don't you ever pay any attention to the stories?" declares the knight brashly at the warlocks protest, "If we all just went around lopping the heads off dark creatures without observing the formalities we'd be no better than Kurlanders."

You march hastily, to make sure to reach the place before nightfall, but your progress is slowed down by the poor state of the road. Mud covered with melting snow makes travelling hazardous and dirty, especially for the knight's shining armored feet. Trees begin to dot the landscape the more you advance and not long after, you can hear the howling of a wolf in the distance, certainly a proof that you are approaching the woodlands. An unnecessary proof perhaps, as the forest darkens the horizon.

The howl however, seemed closer.
And it is answered by another, closer still.
A last howl, to your left, and your guide's hand moves to his sword hilt.
"I'm guessing those didn't have much luck hunting this winter..."


OOC:There we go. Can't start a classic old style Dragon Warriors game without the classic old style wolf encounter, can we?
Now of course, you can't distance wolves as you're on foot, but you can make a stand right there or look for a better position or strangle one another or whatever. When you made up your mind on fighting positions, notify me in the Battle Order thread.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:09, Tue 02 Dec 2008.

OOC: Well, I have the old 2-handed sword, so I have to stand alone!  Well, at least I need 2m or so of swinging room.

IC: Kormak glances around, alerted by the guides comments and actions.  Realizing the threat posed by winter hungry wolves, he unconciously looks down at the wolf-head cloak and smiles at the irony. "What will they think of this if they should bring me down?" he wonders as he kisses the furred cloak for good luck.  "My brothers are hungry and it makes them bold!  Form a circle my friends and face the enemy!  Blood for blood! Death for death!" cries the barbarian, his blood beginning to boil as combat approaches.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:53, Tue 02 Dec 2008.

 Mud happens, tiring though it is and though he's more used to riding comfortably above it than slugging through it, the quilted padding worn underneath plate steel to soften blows makes for a perfectly good set of insulation against the chill... Until the wolves howl out and the hunter makes his suggestion.

 "Aye, those in armour form on my right that my shield will ward our left!" he calls, drawing sword and unslinging said shield from his back, bearing the heraldic crest of his house as he does so, "Those not in armour cast your eyes about - ward our rear and perhaps look for some better place to make our stand!"

Uh oh, trouble ahead on this fine day already...

Cursing under his breath, Beren drew his own sword. "I doubt wolf pelt is still worth much after tasting fire," he said, sheltering himself behind the biggest and more armored of the group, "so I'll let you do as much hacking as you can, and mend any wound."

Brakkus hefts his bow and readies an arrow. "We should seek high ground" says the hermit "and start a fire. A burning brand is usually enough to drive off a wolf"

"I concur  with Brakkus. Someone light a torch...beasts fear fire." Arkemos said grimly, reaching behind him and slowly drawing his massive greatsword. The grinning skull that capped its pmmel seemed to smile ever wider, as if the thought of bloodhed amused it.

OOC: How far are we from the woods and how much time do we have before the wolves appear?

"Aye, light a fire and if there be higher ground nearby to make a stand, then let's find it quickly!" Kormak says with a grim determination in his eyes as he readies his sword for battle.

Edited for content.  Changed Kormak's statement of intent.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:41, Wed 03 Dec 2008.

NPC'ed and counting as a GM post

Looking around quickly for a defendable position, Ellinel soon points to a small mound that is luckily in the opposite direction form the howls. The slope is not too steep and there are some small bushes on top of it, though they are very unlikely to catch fire easily, due to the recent weather.
"That's about as high as it gets I think... Better hurry before those beasts catch up with us. I can see some of them already."
Wondering if he even has time to load his crossbow before the pack is on the group, Ellinel draws his sword instead and takes a few quick steps toward the mound, waiting to make sure everyone is following, or if someone comes with a better plan.

 "It will serve - those of you who have not armour, prepare a fire if you can in this wet muck... the rest of us will teach these curs what bright steel and brave hearts can do!" calls Adonis in a fine mood, the prospect of a little light bloodshed against such night-stalking creatures of petty evil as wolves (alright, so it's a stereotype with little truth in it, but what else do you expect from a southerner?) giving him no end of good cheer as he prepares to fall back with the others, moving in a smooth line if they should prove capable of keeping to it.

Brakkus heads back behind the fighters, higher up the slope so that he can shoot arrows down at the wolves over their heads. "Anyone have any lantern oil?" he asks, gesturing at the soggy busshes "It will take more than a flint and tinder to burn this"

"Oh for crying out loud...Beren, do you know of any fire spell that could conjure fire to aid us?" Arkemos grumbled as he waved his massive blade about absently, scanning the area for any sign of the wolves. The warlock resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the knights comments, thinking instead to channel his aggression positively towards their foes. "I don't suppose there's any chance this baron has werewovles at his command does he?" Arkemos asked the old man.

Intrigued by the request, Beren produced his flint and tinder: "Practical magic which does not use valuable combat resources," he said with an impish grin.

[OOC: If there is no fuel nearby, a Dragonbreath would not be more useful than that.]

"I have oil in my lantern.  Here, take it," says Kormak, handing over the filled lantern to whomever will take it.