"At least I will always have shade on a sunny day, Bregor!"

In reply to Jeremiah (msg #13):

"On the way to Doc's Island, just like you of course!"
"Now will somebody please tell me if we're there yet, we've been going for hours!"

Suddenly overwhelmed by the revelation of the dragon amongst them, Athelstan dropped to his knees, sword held before him point down in the cold earth.
"You do us all great honour."
"To be graced with the presence of one so great as you..."
He trailed off, words failing to convey his feelings.

" Someone always has to one up me, don't they? " the gnome says of the dragon.

Athelstan was right of course, a dragon among them could not go unrecognized, though he wished such introductions could have been in made in private.

It was one thing to show some leg, entirely something else to go about the woods shouting your destination and acting as if you have someone along with you that might earn a hefty ransom.

Still, what's done is done...

With a deep bow and a sweep of the feathery hat, Fenube echoes the Paladin's fine words.

In reply to Falx Templamut (msg #18):

"Not all of us can fly or even walk fast, as you can see there are all sorts in this caravan today." Natasha spoke quietly.

"Our friend in the ridiculous full plate almost fits in for once." she gestured to Jeremiah, who had added some colours to his plate to make it appear less serious than the perfectly interlocking steel that it was.

"I take it you are enjoying the trip?" She asked everyone.

His laugh dying away at the mention of a dragon, Bregor takes in the compotion and disscussion for a minute before he realizes that the person in front of him is actually the dragon everyone is refering to.

"Good sir" he says with a bow.

Triladir also made her respects to Falx. It was sad that such a powerful and glorious being had been reduced to this mode of transport. His wounds must be grievous indeed to subject himself to this ignominy. On the plus side he would be able to help them should they encounter misfortune along the way.  Something that seemed to befall them every time they stepped out the door. Shivering, she sped up a little to make sure she was in the middle of the troop. Her deadly encounter with the assassin was still to recent to take lightly.

Eventually somebody explains to Falx that travelling via wagon can take not minutes, even hours to cross a continent, but weeks. In this case he distance before the party puts the expected time to reach the coastline at around 14 days, provided all goes well and the weather stays fine.
Somewhat dejected, the dragon withdraws into the wagon to sulk, mumbling something about the horror of being land bound.

Light snow continues to fall throughout the remainder of the day, blown about by gusty winds through the mountain peaks. Another day should see you past the mountains and into the foothills before entering the Charwood Forest and heading for Ender Glen.

Unfortunately during the first night on the road, the snow kicks up into a full blown blizzard - do you try to push on risking exposure for the oxen and horses (and yourselves), or try to sit it out in the minimal shelter of a rocky outcropping found the evening before?

Jeremiah called the group together in the caravan - not that that was necessary for most because it was plain miserable outside.
"Ladies and Gents, I suggest we stay and try to sit out this storm. I don't really see a lot of benefit to be had in fighting nature for each step. What do you all think?"

"I must disagree, Jeremiah. As yummy as you are, I don't relish having to feast on sentient sandwiches if the cold outlasts our supplies."

The young gnome sits in slightly warmer clothes then the day before, wrapped in a blanket of short reddish fur. Sipping from a warm glass of tea smelling lightly of cinnamon and apples, Fenube offers a thought.

"We have just begun our journey, perhaps we should head back to purchase more suitable supplies?"

"What about using magic to clear the way, or calm the storm, or at least keep the animals warm?"
Concern for animals was rubbing off on him from his patron the Ranger, Prudence.

"You're a druid aren't you?" he asked of Bregor.
"Don't you have power over nature or something?"

"What about you Triladir, can't you conjure up a shelter or some blankets?"

"No... and I didn't bring a boat either. I guess I'm just not an outdoor type really." said Triladir. "And what Sir Gnome would you think of as suitable supplies that would be worth delaying our trip longer than necessary? Unless Prudence feels differently, I am of the same opinion as Jeremia, we sit this out.  We can use the wagons to shelter the livestock and ourselves."

"Unfortunatly, I can make some fire and control local weather.  This is beyond my ability....." he says stepping into the wind and sniffing at the air.

"What we need is a cave to shelter in..." Athelstan commented wryly, his teeth already beginning to chatter despite the cloak wrapped tightly around his body.

A rattling noise pierced through Natasha's meditations and awoke her to the realisation thatshe was really, really cold. And that Athelstan's teeth made an impressive noise.
"Jeremiah," she began "Be a hero and take the coldest people into your cube of force for a while to block out the wind will you?"

In reply to Natasha (msg #32):

"Erm," The paladin had forgotten he had it, to be honest, and this showed in the tint of his cheeks, now a red to match his garish armour.

"A solid point. Who is suffering the most?" He asked of the group, scanning faces as he did so for signs of hypothermia more acute than the party average.

Nose still in the wind, he nods in agreement with Natasha.  "This weather is unusually cold for this latitude.  I don't detect anything abnormal with the storm.  It should pass by early afternoon, still it will drop a lot of snow on us."

Turning back toward the party; "we should take shelter and rotate people and animals into the protection of Jeremiah's magic and possibly the wagons."

Recognizing a sound plan when one is discussed, Fenube takes the time to get out of the way of anything that might resemble manual labor, while keeping an eye to the surrounding for anything that might find the snow a reason to take advantage of their distress.

The cube proves a bit less useful than initially hoped for. With the first side activated, it keeps out wind and gas, but that also means the air supply is not continually refreshed - the field has to be dropped every half hour or so to dispose of the stale air and let in new. It does however, along with the three wagons, act as an efficient wind break, although it only covers a ten foot long section.

As Bregor predicted, the blizzard dies down around midday after dumping approximately two feet of snow. Setting out now should get the party three to four more miles before dusk, much less than could be expected if the path was clear. Fourtunately all the animals survived the blizzard although all are shivering and suffering from varying levels of exposure.

OOC: Everyone takes 2 HP damage from the cold.

Discussion of options and a suggestion from Falx soon have the party back in motion, Bregor leading with a circular wall of fire around him turning snow banks to steam but leaving the path somewhat slippery with water. Another hazard is identified when the wagons fall a little too far behind and the water refreezes into slick ice - easy enough to avoid as long as the wagons follow closely behind and the temperature doesn't drop much lower.
By nightfall an impressive 6 miles have been covered for the day, less than the day before but an astounding distance given the morning was spent stationary and the snow.

That night the temperature remains below freezing, but fires both magical and mundane avoid any losses of livestock. With dawn comes more snow and freezing cold, lighter and somewhat warmer than the day before, but as the day progresses, nice dry snow turns to wet sleet and slush.

The melted snow clears the path, however Fenube isn't totally sure the mud isn't worse, and not just because it might stain the Gnome's fine kid leather boots.

Despite these concerns, the sinking of the wheels into the mud has minimal impact. In fact,Fenube decided, the day seemed well enough spent traveling the distance they have.

The sight of a cavern or other cover to camp in was sorely missed however.

"The temperature will drop after dark, we need to consider our four legged friends, or they might be three legged by sunrise."

After the wagons are circled, and the animals unhitched, the Gnome kneels down, and blows warm air between gentle hands. The warm air collects, whirling about, then begins to glow. Released, the ball of warmth rolls around in the snows, as as it goes the snow melts in moisture that is itself evaporated in turn.

"That is a start."

Next a small coin purse is retrieved and opened. Slowly, stretching from its confinement, the shadowy form of a winged-reptile gathers its bearings, then takes a place atop one of the wagons, though it veers away from the man-dragon's abode.

Though it has no features, a general sense of alertness can be felt in its posture.

The cracking of knuckles, high pitched like wind chimes, announces the fact that the young illusionist is about to try something a bit more... impressive.

Rhythmic hand movements, like a skilled conductor directing a fine orchestra generates the gentle sounds of birds chirping, and a babbling brook. Whirling like a dervish, the movements become more elaborate, as the wagons are painted bright gay colors, the ground grows a lush two inches of grass, with flowers here... and here... and here.

Several butterflies float out of Natasha's hair, and a small red bird lands atop one of the wagon. The air grows less chilly, becoming even comfortable, though not warm.

"Don't let the temperature fool you, though our minds are here, our bodies are still in the cold. It is more a escape, I hope, from the stress of the day then the dangers inherent in our situation."

Any who glance beyond the wagons spot the edges of the illusion beyond a fish filled moat coursing around the camps perimeter. Beyond the snow covered trees and rocks beyond them are no less imposing however.

The joyous dance comes to an end as a very proud Fenube spends a content moment collecting stray hairs and gathering composure.

"Could someone gather some firewood?"
This message was last edited by the player at 05:56, Fri 16 Dec 2011.

Jeremiah strode out into the pleasant air and resisted the temptation to breathe in what he knew to be freezing air.

"Amazing." the words escaped his mouth. "Simply amazing."

He took a minute to enjoy the scene before getting back to mundane preparations. The addition of an illusionist to the party had proved an excellent move, and the Paladin found himself enjoying Fenube's company.

"I'll fetch some wood. Bregor, you coming along?" He asked the druid.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:30, Wed 21 Dec 2011.

Natasha smiled faintly at Fenube and moved back into the caravan without a word. She was not well known to be overly cheerful but it was clear to those who knew her that she was happy.

The third day out should see the party clear of the mountains and into the forested foothills around midday according to those with a little more familiarity of the region than Brutus, Jeremiah, Natasha and Prudence. Even the biting cold, stormy weather and slushy sleet can't seem to significantly slow the party's plodding progress throughout the morning.

From time to time the clouds clear just enough to show you a glimpse of what's to come lower down the trail until finally the treeline is spotted by the scouts Skrufulus and Prudence. Cantering ahead on the narrow trail, the search into the vegetation for possible ambush as the reminder of the group continue at the ox wagons slow but steady pace.

SUDDENLY, the earth erupts on either side of the lead wagon. Antenna, mandibles and chitinous claws are seen ripping into the flesh of the oxen, blood, gore and the screams of the wounded and panicked animals churning the air into chaos!

OOC: the party (less Natasha) is utterly surprised at this attack from below. Both Althelstan and Jeremiah are on horseback within twenty or so yards of the carnage, Natasha, Triladir and Driver No 1 are almost within touching distance and there is a gap of approximately ten yards between the wagons in front and the lead oxen of the following wagon - that puts the wagons themselves at about 20 yards (roughly 3 yards per pair of oxen).
Once Natasha has had an action, everyone may roll initiative (D10) and post their intentions.

His attention focused on outside threats, Athelstan was completely unprepared for the sudden violence from within. He struggled to retain his seat on his equally surprised horse, all thought of reacting to the threat temporarily forced from his mind.

A blur of monk sped towards the left and the beast's antennae swayed in the sudden breeze.
Damn vampires... too weak.
She retained her wits as ever but her aim was always a little off and blows slightly weaker since the incident with the vampire not so long ago. Straightening herself and narrowing her eyes she studied the monster and decided to circle it to strike from behind when she had a chance.