Winter road to Hillsfar

The companions assemble their wagons in the morning following the snowstorm.  Faeranal and the fresh men at arms break snow from the wheel assemblies and canvas, inspect the pioneer kits for spares and tools and feed, groom and gather the draft and war horses.

The group gathers for a final brunch at the Flagon prior to departing.  Barla can’t wait to see the metropolis of Hillsfar and all the finery Quilro is expected to clothe her in.

Fyrnlocke flips five gp to Belgar and grabs a last sack of fresh provisions knowing the road ahead is cold.
The wagons are lined up;  the Gundar Vardark, the Ampner carousel, the companions cargo cart and in the rear three Barovian travel wagons.  The line is flanked by men at arms from the companions and the Barovian guard contingent.
Quilro is incredulous at the fire giant towering in the front of the column.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the elf hisses at DonBrapp as Kailute attempts to placate the furious elf.
“We hear you.  We can adjust further when we get to Hillsfar.” DonBrapp states flatly.

Kailute rides behind the giant, following as it stamps down the snow in the road.  Shuos trails by his side.  Initially attempting small talk with the fire giant, the half-orc reads that he is being annoying and falls back.
The road is almost totally snowed out which impacts speed, but the horses ride slowly above.

DonBrapp eyes Bosmos’ ring of weather control keeping aware of his ability to assist or hinder as the magic may allow.  As the weather is cold but moderate at the moment, there is no opportunity at the moment.

Fyrnlocke pulls alongside the elf during the day.  “I assume I can count on your backing when we get to Hillsfar.”  He states flatly.  Quilro immediately agrees, recognizing the need for a fence and influence within the merchant city.  Fyrnlocke expresses his desire for a steady stream of revenue without requiring his full-time presence in the city.

After several hours the temperature drops and Faeranal and the Barovians begin to establish a perimeter for camp.
After a hearty discussion of the prospects for networking in Hillsfar and the need for magical identification, the baying sound of louder than normal wolves breaks the evening chatter.

Kailute senses that they are within two mile of the camp approaching from the south.

“What group of wolves would harass a caravan this large?” DonBrapp chuckles.

The wind is blowing out of the north, and DonBrapp steps outside to reverse that direction and with a shake of his fist it is so.
The scent of approaching wolves make some of the horses whinny in discomfort, and Girvis has drawn his giant-sized broadsword.

Within an hour Shuos becomes anxious as the baying grows closer sounding almost just beyond the horizon.  The temperature drops precipitously, almost unnaturally quickly.

“Karthark.”  The Giant states stepping forward to the south.

Quilro leaps into the air in harpy form and observes a line of wolves trailed by armed ice trolls.

“Drop back and call up your crossbows!”  Kailute directs to the men and Faeranal and the Barovians.

“IF GREENSKIN FIGHTS, BAROVIA FIGHTS!” Pyotr stumbles forward, and Girvis stomps his feet.

Eight enormous wolves lope forward in a large semi-circle followed by the trolls.

DonBrapp favors Kailute with a divine to resistance, inuring him to the elements and cold attack and then takes up his position in the chair atop the mobile lab behind the Shaggin’ Wagon.

Kailute signals to the fire giant that they will take the lead in center.  The giant shuffles forward lamely observing creatures of snow and ice eternal enemies of the giantkin of flame.

In an attempt to appearing to slip and fall, Kailute slips and falls into the snow.  The cold of the snow is of no impairment to him.

Several wolves leap up at the giant while two nip at the prone half-orc.  Quilro circles in the sky above awaiting an appropriate moment to release hellfire.

Kailute picks himself up and loops a swing to keep the snarling wolves at bay.

Girvis takes a massive swing and knocks one of the wolves mewling to the side.

The dwarven cleric initiates a prayer to Vergadain booming out among the companions and their men-at-arms.

Girvis suffers bites from a pair of winter wolves as the others seek out the rest of the party.

Seizing his moment Quilro releases fireballs from the sky, pummeling three wolves and invigorating the giant.  Fyrnlocke gracefully dives out of the way at the elf’s shouted warning and rolls over backward his sword held at the ready.

Kailute takes a hearty slice out of the shoulder haunch of a wolf as Shuos continues to snort and whine for the signal to attack.

The blessings of Vergadain shower all of the faithful companions except the airborne elf with the fervor of the dwarven diety.

The two winter wolves exhale a crystalline cloud of pure cold on the giant who wails in abject pain.  Suffering a similar attack Kailute is magically protected.

The trolls are warily keeping their line behind the wolves, grouped by two left and right.

Shaking off the breath attack Kailute slays one of the wolves in front of him.

DonBrapp summons a gout of holy flame from the heavens striking two of the ice trolls.  One takes enormous significant damage scorching armor and blistering flesh;  the other less so but both pivot to see the dwarf.

One of the wolves leaps to attack the half-orc but is so poorly time it opens itself to free swing from the barbarian who slices him deftly in the haunch.

Fyrnlocke leaps forward to attack but misses and slips into the snow.  Two wolves leap to his back.

Quilro releases another round of flaming spheres and another wolf falls dead while the others are significantly hurt.

Two trolls flank the giant as Kailute steps to his side to assist and signals Shuos to attack the wolves attacking Fyrnlocke.  With a swing he lops an arm from one of the ice trolls.

Fyrnlocke lands a sword thrust into one of the wolves.  In a flurry of axe swings Kailute slays one of the trolls and injures the other.

From Quilro’s vantage in the sky he sees two dead wolves, two dead trolls and the balance remaining scorched and wounded.  Two wolves are leaping toward DonBrapp and the line of men-at-arms are bearing with their crossbows.

Quilro releases a powerful lightning bolt into two of the trolls.  One explodes in a cloud of icy viscera.

DonBrapp lowers Buzzkiller and releases his own magical lightning that scorches the attacking wolves.  Both counter with frosted breath enveloping the dwarf in cold.  A volley of bolts lance into the wolves and remaining troll attempting to engage DonBRapp.

“What is going on out here?!” Barla opens the door to shout uncertainly.

“Get back inside you bosomed tart!” Quilro screeches from the wing and releases his volley of magic missiles into the desperately wounded troll opposite Kailute, earning a sword salute from Girvis.

DonBapp lowers Buzzkiller for another lightning strike searing two wolves.

Fyrnlocke and Pyotr finish the wolf in front of them and the thief assists the inebriated noble in walking.

Girvis ensures the remaining trolls are finished while DonBrapp and the crossbowmen launch their final attacks.

 Moving quickly across the field Kailute and Shuos line behind the remaining wolf.  Fyrnlocke and Pyotr also close in on the final monster.

Buzzkiller delivers the final blast to the wolve which explodes.  “That’s how it is done elf.”

“EMBERPEAK!”  Shouts Girvis, and Kailute offers salute.  He then nods to the wolves and the two set to cleaning the pelts and butchering any meat.

Faeranal directs the collection of troll corpses to ensure they are burned and asks the elf for magical sleep assistance to ensure there are fresh hands in the morning.

The cleric affords the fire giant some healing, who thanks him with a curt nod and wary eyes.  “Dwarves of the city are not as immediately opposed to your kind as the tunnel dwellers.”

DonBrapp retires to the wagon, and Barla immediately tends to some of his surface wounds.

After seeing the perimeter is secure, Fyrnlocke, Quilro and Kailute retire to the wagon.  The space is tight but all find a place to sleep.

In the morning Bosmos invokes what little power remains to return balance and the touch of the negative material plane from Kailute and Quilro.