[OOC suggested soundtrack: The Burning Crusade, by Russel Brower]

Well healed and with your backpacks full, you face another go through the Forest of Bron. For Gal and Rorn it's nothing new: they have been roaming in the part of the Forest closest to Gallows End since they were kids, although very seldom in winter.
As often in this season, you are washed in pouring cold rain, that turns to snow in the night.
As you want to avoid using your iron rations, that will be more useful on top of Hellwinter Peak, the hunters of the group, Rorn, Gal and Larson, follow tracks between the trees, while Sir Roland and Garl follow the main path at a relaxed pace, as they are no hunters.
On the first day this strategy pays back and on the first evening you share a deer, although a bit slim, at your first camp, but at the end of the second day nobody catches up with Sir Roland and Garl at sunset.

[Private to Galendra; Rorn; Larson fossas: Sorry, I wont tell you what happened to you right now. First I want to see what the other two do.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:48, Thu 11 Jan 2018.

Sir Roland takes one glance at the fast setting sun, then turns to Garl at his side. "We had best setup camp for the night."

Using his rudimentary woods lore, the Knight (and his companion?) spends the remaining daylight looking for a suitable campsite near the main path. Finding a dryer part of the ground against a sturdy tree or rock outcropping, Sir Roland sets down his pack and begins building a fireplace. With twigs and branches (gathered by Garl?), he quickly gets a cheery fire going. Again calling upon his elementary skill in outdoor survival, he attempts to hide the fire so that it is not easily visible from the path, nor to the eyes of unfriendly creatures lurking in the forest nearby.

[Private to GM: 19:39, Today: Sir Roland Halfstaff rolled 9 using 2d6 vs SKILL 8. Hide fire.]

Laying his weapons beside himself within easy reach, he warms himself at the fire. Glancing up at Garl, he nods. "Larson should have no trouble finding us. When they get out of the forest back to the road, they will be able to follow our tracks here easily."

OOC - Some rp here. :) Get to know each other's story...

There is a moment of silence as the Knight stares blankly into the flickering flame. "My da was a fisherman. He would go out in his boat every morning before the sun rose. And by evening, he would be back, a brace of the day's catch swinging in his hand, a smile on his weathered face. Ma would take his catch, clean them, and cook them over our simple wood fire stove. The whole house would be filled with laughter as we ate what the heavens have provided for our sustenance. We had little in possessions, but as a boy, I felt rich in every way that mattered."

"That was before the orcs came...

Shaking his head as if to clear the evil memories, Sir Roland glances sideways at Garl. "What are your people like? And your family? How did you end up on the road?"

Using his rudimentary woods lore

That first day Rorn had tentatively questioned The Sir (as he called Roland) about 'getting on in the wild', and after a few minutes he had given the well-armoured fellow an easy going smile and the following tips.  "Yah, so, uh, Sir, always try to find a campsite away from wind.  Don't worry about animals, they don't want to find us unless they're starving and if they're starving they'll find us anyway.

"But wind.  Wind, uh, sucks, you know and it can be avoided and that can save a lot of misery from cold ears and so on.  Also we can probably get away with a cold camp some nights but not always, so we always need a lot of wood around.  Green wood don't burn and the smoke is nasty, so dead wood.  Yeah, I guess we all know this."

He had shrugged before disappearing for the rest of the daylight, looking for some fresh meat.

On the first day this strategy pays back and on the first evening you share a deer, although a bit slim, at your first camp.

Despite a garrulous nature in general, Rorn had been quiet after devouring quite a bit of food, definitely more than his smaller stature might suggest.  Fatigue was clear on his face and he want to sleep quickly.  He was looking forward to doing it again the next day, but strange and terrible dreams plagued his rest; and so it was a bleary-eyed face that met the dawn.

Perhaps the signs of a bad turn were there from the start: almost immediately after waking Rorn sliced his thumb badly while trying to cut the last meat into strips for jerky.  Then he took a mis-step in the nearby stream and soaked both feet in icy water.  At least he hadn't slipped and sprained an ankle ... right??
This message was last edited by the player at 20:58, Wed 10 Jan 2018.

“My people are merry.  Too merry.  Their songs of merriment made me sick, so I left them.  Now I have a stack of musty old books for companions, which is vastly superior!”

Garl isn’t good company tonight...
This message was last edited by the player at 02:38, Thu 11 Jan 2018.

The night pass quietly (apart from the howling wind) and you (Garl and Roland) wake up to a cold dawn.
Still you can't see your companions.
[OOC last night you had to eat iron rations]
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:10, Thu 11 Jan 2018.

Sir Roland wakes up to a cold gray dawn that isn't too much different from his mood. Stoking up the fire until it is a reasonable source of heat, he moves closer to eat his breakfast of iron rations. Between bites of the dried jerky strips, he looks over at Garl.

OOC - Sir Roland consumes another Iron Rations meal. His 2nd including last night's dinner."

"Let's push on towards Hellwinter. And trust that Larson and his team will catch up. If we keep to the path, they would have no trouble finding us. And if they don't, I trust they will also decide to make for Hellwinter peak on their own."

"Our rations are limited. As is our knowledge of woods lore. That rules out any attempt from us to look for them."

"Thoughts?"

“I think that’s a bad idea.  We should wait here until they find us.  The last time we split up, I had a rather unfortunate experience...”

Brows raised questioningly, Sir Roland turns to glance at Garl. "Friend Garl. Why do you think we are safer by remaining stationary? We have no reason to think that. Whether we stay here, or push on, the risk of unwelcome encounters is the same."

"As for our comrades, they do not know where we are. And we do not know where they are. The only two points of reference all of us have, is this path we are now on, as well as our final destination of Hellwinter Peak. So again staying here doesn't help make it easier for them to find us."

The knight looks up irritably at the rapidly brightening sky. It's going to be another cold gray dreary day trudging through the mud. "Our rations are limited and would better serve us when we get to the Peak where hunting is virtually impossible. I strongly suggest we get going along the path. Make for the Peak. And hope Larson and his team will find us."

Seeing that the dour Elf is not going to engage in the discussion, Sir Roland stares at him for several seconds, before laughing out loud. His laughter is genuine and hearty, and given the dismal situation they are in, sounds particularly bright and cheery. He claps Garl on the back. "Cheer up Friend! You are not alone this time! I am sure between your talents and my sword, we will overcome whatever comes our way!"

Finishing up his morning meal, the knight brushes the crumbs off his clothes and stands up. He looks down at his comrade with mirth-filled eyes. "Let's go my good Elf. The day is passing..." Sir Roland picks up his pack and (with the Elf?) begins the day's journey along the road towards Hellwinter Peak...
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 09:55, Sat 13 Jan 2018.

Garl rises, and grumbles.  But he follows Sir Roland.  There is little else he can do... and as the human pointed out, a party of two was still better than just one.  Still, he bitterly regrets that their other companions have yet to rejoin them.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:53, Sat 13 Jan 2018.