Hengar is inclined to agree with Thane on Arnan on the issue and states as much. He has no desire to bait the dwarves into an unnecessary confrontation. These are dwarven lands and he respects their claim to sovereignty over them.

"Either we wait to be granted entrance or we return the way we came. If we wait, we need to do our best to stay warm. Otherwise we should return to the lodge before nightfall," he says.

Morgrim's gaze shifted from Thane to Hengar and back again. "I remember how Hengar wasn't my problem in Bryn Shander."

"Fine. We do it your way. You'll notice however they've not yet sent a runner. They're waiting us out. So get comfortable big boy. Its going to be a long night."

"We shall wait until we get word Grim.  If they attack us we will defend but I shall not turn on another Dwarf unless absolutely needed to.  If we go marching in, no matter if we have a right by law of common blood lines, we will be doing what they accuse us of.  The guards are following their orders."

Dalgura shifted her weight to be more comfortable.  She was used to standing for long times while the head clerics gave their sermons.  Then she started to sing.  She started to sing the songs of her Dwarven history.  Of the love they had for one another and of their practice of caring for each other even if they were from different clans.  She knew that even if the guard or the master of the hall didn't remember, or wanted to let them in, she knew that Grim would remember such times for in the remembering the bonds grew deeper.  The heart of the Dwarves would bond with the memories that were good and beat strong enough to drown out the bad.

It was easy to see how the party had split up and gone their separate ways one time already, and it could still happen again. Arnan wasn't about to wait around all night waiting to hear from this Lord Hammerstone -- when it was time to leave if they were going to return to the lodge before nightfall, he would do so. Maybe the two dwarves would have an easier time gaining admittance to the valley if they were by themselves, any way.

Turning to the Luskan, Arnan remarked, "To answer your earlier question about where Helda Silverstram may have gone, Thane, I can think of three possibilities . . ."

---

OOC:

Arnan will proceed to explain what Shane has outlined in Msg.# 85, above.

"Aye, Gura," Morgrim replied. "And if Kira is onto something, could be its a mad king under these hills giving the orders," the dwarf grumbled.

Decidedly out-voted on the issue, he settled in to await a decision or the necessity to fall back to shelter.

Thane looked like he was going to say something in response, perhaps even something hot tempered.  He opened his mouth, but then shut it and simply made a curt nod at Morgrim.  He then turned his attention to Dalgura, whose singing seemed to drain away a good measure of his tension, and leaned in to listen to Arnan when the scout approached to talk.

"I dunno which way she'd have gone.  If it were me, I'd make for Caer-Dineval, since it's middle distance but would be in the lee of the mountain.  Since we didn't come across her coming up from Bryn Shander, we're really only lookin' between Caer and Termalaine," he opined after hearing Arnan's information.

He turned to regard Hengar as well.  "Could we make it to Caer-Dineval by nightfall if we left now?  Or would that be best attempted fresh from the lodge as a morning travel?" he asked the two men most familiar with the territory.

Kira listened to Dal as she started to sing and while she wasn't a dwarf, she felt some emotion welling up inside of her.  She was looking around though while the guys discussed things and finally in a lull she cleared her throat.  "Not really much around to make a fire and I'm bettin' they wouldn't give us anything either.  I know you're not wanting to Morgrim but if they don't send someone soon, we'll have to go back to the shelter.  I'm sorry but I really don't want to be found when the snow melts with my sword frozen in my hand."

"Aye," Morgrim remarked, nodding at Kira. "I'm not about to freeze to death myself."

Huddled in the shelter of the road-side wall, Hengar glances skyward and nods in the affirmative.

"Yes. It is possible, even now. Depending on the state of the trail, of course," he says.

Hengar goes on to state if the snow is too deep, the party may get trapped on the mountain and forced to camp overnight somewhere along the trail. "Hard to know though without seeing the trail after the storm," he admits. The safest route would be to return to the lodge and camp there and then depart for Caer-Dineval at first light. Any other option will pose more risk, Hengar says.

In reply to Hengar Aensvaard (msg # 102):

After listening to what Hengar had to say, Arnan spoke up. "I'm in favor of returning to the lodge and spending the evening there, then striking out for Caer-Dineval on the morrow."

"Way too often have I found corpses after the spring thaw -- being the bodies of those who thought to brave the winter weather, mayhaps in the hopes of saving a few hours."

"There are situations where there is little choice, and one must push on and put themselves at risk. In my opinion, this is not one of them."

In reply to Arnan Aldwynne (msg # 103):

"I will go with the party of course.  I understand that not everybody is as thick as some Dwarves."

Dalgura looked at Grim when she said it, but might have been thinking of those behind the closed doors.

She did turn back the guard and nodded.  "It appears that we shall be moving on.  I pray to my Goddess that she forgives you for turning away those in need."

It didn't bother Kira so much that they were turned away but it did bother that Dal and Grim were hurt by the others' actions (or inaction).  "Didn't want their pissy ale anyway," she said, trying to make light of things for the two but knowing it likely wouldn't make them feel any better.

Morgrim looks up at the sky, watching the clouds for signs of their imminent return, and then turns to follow. Hopefully the storm held at bay long enough for them to return should the trail take them back here. Though he appreciated Kira's attempt at cutting through the sudden tension within the group, he had no words at the moment. At least none that would ameliorate the situation.

In reply to Arnan Aldwynne (msg # 103):

"Yes, let's head back to the lodge then.  Not the way I thought this jaunt'd turn out, but some folks just can't live and let live, can they?" he agreed.  Aiming a look of disgust at the hidden dwarves inside the stony building, he rattled of a string of heated dwarven words.

[Private to Dalgura Ironhammer; DM Shard; Morgrim Ironhammer: "Alright, ya boogery-bearded guardians of the super secret and sacred black ice.  Ya'll can just keep it, I don't want none of it.  And since yer so hospitable, we'll just leave you to yer shamblin' zombies, may they eat your brains and guts!"]
This message was last edited by the player at 17:23, Fri 15 Sept 2017.

The dwarves within the roadside outpost watch the adventurers depart back down the road. What Morgrim had said was true, none in the party saw any of the dwarves make any great rush to send a runner to deliver their message to Baerick Hammerstone. Now, it seems the issue is moot and the dwarves go back to their sentry duties, seemingly unphased by any of the adventurers' parting shots.

The party makes good time back down to the lodge, perhaps disheartened to have been turned around without learning of Helda's fate, and more importantly, the cause of dwarven zombies spilling out of the mines. Taken together, today's happenings are ill tidings indeed.

The lodge is as the adventurers left it and, thankfully, still stocked with enough fuel for several days, if not rides, worth of fire.

There is still about two hours of daylight remaining when the adventurers get back to the lodge.

Thane was glad to get out of the weather and back to some kind of passable shelter.  He immediately started to gather wood.  "I'll get a fire going in the hearth, maybe we can rig up a pot to make a stew or soup out of our rations?" he said, hunger obviously factoring big in his current thoughts.

"And we probably ought to come up with a watch rotation for the night.  Zombies might not be the only kind of trouble we'll be risking out here."

"Your Dwarvish is getting better," Morgrim notes before turning away from the outpost. Quiet for the better part of their march back Morgrim entered the lodge and immediately set the hearth ablaze with little more than a spoken word and a snap of his fingers.

Settling into a comfortable arm chair beside the flames he held out his hand, palm up, and conjured a small ball of wavering light into existence, peering at it closely as it took shape.

"Save your rations," he said distractedly, plunking a handful of berries down on the table. "Except to taste. You needn't worry for hunger while I'm around."

Using Druidcraft x2

- You instantly light or snuff out a candle, torch, or a small campfire.

- You create a tiny, harmless sensory effect that predicts what the weather will be at your location for the next 24 hours. The effect might manifest as a golden orb for clear skies, a cloud for rain, falling snowflakes for snow, and so on. This effect persists for 1 round.

Goodberry

Up to ten berries appear in your hand and are infused with magic for the Duration. A creature can use its action to eat one berry. Eating a berry restores 1 hit point, and the berry provides enough nourishment to sustain a creature for one day.

The party takes shelter in the mountain lodge yet again, warmed by a good fire that becomes little more than a bank of glowing coals by morning. Save for the howling wind that seems to find purchase in the slightest of gaps between quarried stone, the night passes without incident revealing another icy, cloudless morning. Flecks of ice dust glitter in the sunlight, calling to mind a gossamer veil of diamond falling from the mountain's great face.

Kelvin's Cairn looms large to the northeast, this the direction of the inhospitable dwarves. Above the wall that shelters the western edge of the mountain trail, one can see Maer Dualdon in the distance, an azure lake with banks sheltered by pine and fir. Beyond one of these copses lies the village of Termalaine.

Looking east the party sees Lac Dinneshere, its broad expanse appearing as a great shard of sky that fell to the earth, dotted with tiny boats that traverse its icy blue firmament. At the bottom of a rocky trail descending from the mountain, one  eventually comes to the village of Caer-Dineval.

Back down the way the party came, southward, the adventurers might catch a glimpse of the town of Bryn Shander, her stout walls rising like a dark tower from a field of white.

The party has reached a crossroads. Where will their adventures take them next?

Arnan was up before first light, and as soon as the sun was high enough to provide sufficient visibility, he bundled up and stepped outside. There he glanced at the sky and sniffed at the wind, hoping to glean some information about the day's upcoming weather.

---

OOC:

18:18, Today: Arnan Aldwynne rolled 12 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 8. Survival Check re: Weather.

Morgrim stirred and rolled out of bed, tugged on his boots and wolfskin cloak and headed out into the morning frost to take care of nature's business. Catching Arnan's eye upon his return, he nodded. Like the ranger, he too had checked his portents. The possibility of a sudden squall worried him immensely.

"So? Caer-Dineval it is then?"

Morgrim and Arnan believe the day will be marked by fair weather conditions.

Kira uncurled from her bunk and took care of things quickly, making sure she was layered and ready to go when the others were as well.  Looking to Arnan and Morgrim, she just nodded.  "I'm a tag-along so lead the way," she chirped, trusting their judgment.

Dal was always a little grumbly in the morning and today was no exception.  She got up and took care of her morning rituals including her morning prayers to Sharindlar.  When she was finished she joined up with the rest of the group.

Thane awoke and it was obvious that he had not slept well.

He should have, after all, a warm fire, a secure shelter, and a magically full belly ought to be all that a soldierly-type like Thane would need to get a good night's rest.  But he awoke looking about as alive as the Dwarven zombies that the party and he had killed just days before.

"Bad dreams," is all he would say if asked about his lackluster and tired appearance.  "Once I get moving I'll be fine," he assured his fellows.

He wandered outside to relieve himself in the frigid cold, then prepared himself for the day's journey.  Seeing Arnan and Morgrim standing near outside, he approached.

"Caer-Dinival it is.  Maybe the gods, if they really do exist, will let the good weather hold as you say it should.  I hope our exiled dwarven friend is there.  I'd rather not trudge all the way back to Termalaine in a continued search."

"Oh the Gods exist alright," Morgrim said with the conviction of the faithful. "But it isn't Moradin or Marthammor Duin that worry me. Its Auril."

"If we truly intend to do this, lets be underway. The sooner we've finished with our inquiries the better."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:55, Mon 18 Sept 2017.