"I daresay you'd curl in on yourself and die of boredom if you had to sit through a proper afternoon tea." Though Mallory gave Rhydd as chiding a look as she often dealt Astre, it was clear from her smirk there was no offense taken over his playful ribbing.

"How are you feeling, by the way?  You as well, Miss Farwalker?  Have you tended to that curse-breaking affair you mentioned before yet?" Astre was slightly dislodged from his spot as Mallory hop-scooted her chair a few jostles closer to Rhydd so she could lean over and scrutinize his tilted-back face for any signs of illness.  Lycanthropy was one thing, but catching an infection from a wound was just as likely in rough territory.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:31, Fri 16 Sept 2022.

Rhydd tilted his head back to a more normal position and gave as start as he found himself peering into the face of a much-closer Mallory (than she had been when he first began his posturing) -- who, in turn, was staring intently at him.

"Ummm . . . fine -- normal, I guess," he managed to blurt out in response to her question.

"What would I be feeling if the curse was taking hold? Do you have any idea?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me, honestly.  That we have a chance to observe Lycanthropy's potential incubation period from the get-go is a rare opportunity, albeit one I'd rather not have." Mallory didn't seem bothered by her own closeness as she leaned nearer still to examine Rhydd's complexion.  "Lycanthropy is a rather insidious condition; in many cases its victims don't even know they're afflicted at all and simply go about their normal lives until the change hits them.  Obviously a terrible danger to those around them if, for example, one transforms into a bloodthirsty, practically invulnerable monstrosity in the midst of their family and neighbors."

A rather blunt appraisal of the situation, all things considered, but Mallory felt Rhydd was the sort who'd appreciate frankness over sugar-coating any day.  "There's talk of feeling an urge for battle, or solitude, or hungering for raw meat.  Much of it wholly anecdotal though, so it can't really be trusted.  Feelings of fever or other illnesses are often the result of the injury itself rather than the curse taking hold."

Rhydd now seemed comfortable with Mallory's physical proximity. Truth be told, he might even have leaned towards her, a little.

"Never knew much about it," he admitted when the wizardess explained what she knew -- or had heard -- about the curse. "Other than hearing that you needed silvered or magicked weapons to do harm to those creatures . . . judging by how things went in the forest yesterday, I s'pose that we know that much is true, any way."

The archer pursed his lips thoughtfully as the noblewoman told of possible symptoms. "Solitude . . . certes, I like that a lot. More than most people, I would say. But that's nothing new, at least not for me."

"Raw meat . . . I've eaten it when I was in dire straits, but I can't say that I favor it."

"I don't shy away from battle, but I don't normally go seeking it out . . . well, depending on the circumstances, I s'pose. But I'm not some crazed berserker who goes all wild-eyed and licks his lips at the thought of shedding blood."

"Fever or illness . . . no -- especially not today, after a reasonably good night's rest. I was feeling my wounds a trifle yesterday after the dust-up in the woods, but I feel fine now."

Rhydd glanced over at Farwalker. "Did I hear aright that you have knowledge of a way to break this curse? Is it something that you and I should undertake . . . just in case?"

The outdoorsman shrugged. "I would hate to have been lulled into a false sense of security about this curse, and then to have it o'ercome me when I least expect it."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:18, Sat 17 Sept 2022.

"I am a cursebreaker, yes." Farwalker replied simply. She was putting some finishing touches on her latest carving, eying it thoughtfully in the dim lighting. Not that she could really tell the lighting was dim. She hadn't seen the world like most people for a long time. "I will take care of it in the morning after my prayers. Here." She stood from her spot and in a couple of quick strides, she held out a tiny carving of Mallory. It was actually extremely well done. Almost a miniature sculpture rather than a standard carving. Though, most sculptures didn't have small gemstones for eyes. Small pieces of blue jasper that caught the light in such a way that it almost looked like it was watching the world around it. It of course had a small, unobtrusive hole through it so that it could be threaded onto something and worn as a charm, or even a pendant of sorts. Much like many of the other pieces woven through Farwalker's hair and clothing.

"In other news, the adventurers we seek did come through this town some days ago. They were also refused rooms. Something strange seems to be going on in this town, but I am unsure on whether I feel I should care. As long as they aren't sacrificing people, being irritable isn't too much of an issue."


The carving got a 23 on it, so it's quite nice.

Sat 27 Aug: Farwalker rolled 23 using 1d20+6.  Carving.

"I thought you intended to handle it this morning already?" Mallory scowled a bit on the notion of delays in care.  But, in the end, Farwalker was apparently the only one among them who could handle such magics so it was her schedule or nothing.  "Well, so long as it's done sooner than later, I suppose there's little difference.  Lycanthropy generally takes a full month to gestate; I'm simply worried this form might not behave the same given its source of origin."

The offer of a fine sculpture, however, took the young noble by surprise and shifted her frown into a look of bemusement.  "Oh!  Goodness, Miss Farwalker, this is lovely work.  Thank you."  To receive a carving of oneself was a novelty to begin with, though she seemed to find an additional layer in the particular choice of gemstone that featured in the eyes.  She afforded the Goliath a wan smile.  "Blue Jasper is a stone of rather particular meaning... should I take it as a hint?"

Regardless, Mallory abruptly lifted the delicate statuette out at arm's length - just in time to cause Astre's sudden pounce and flail up from her lap to miss.  She palmed his face to keep him away as he continued to reach and swing in a playful effort to snatch up the carving just as he had the first Farwalker had set out days ago.  Whatever the reason, he seemed quite taken with such trinkets.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:23, Sun 18 Sept 2022.

That night it snowed heavily.

While Mallory and Rhydd could speculate on the symptoms of early lycanthropy, Farwalker could experience them firsthand. It first manifested in the mind — extraordinarily vivid dreams took her, along with a cold sweat. Dreams of flocking rabbits, burrows, and large, slit eyes reminiscent of a feline's that peered at her from every direction. Ominous and discomforting, but nothing truly sinister.

When she awoke it was without any physical indication of the curse. As it stood, she remained the same.

Upon departure, the town bid its farewells in the same manner it had greeted its guests, which was to say not at all. Continuing off the Eastway, cresting the hill, the path grew narrower and showed clear signs of being significantly less traveled. Had it not been for the occasional cairn, one would have difficulties staying on the road, especially as it ascended and descended. The landscape here was similar to the barren, rolling hills that led to Targos, albeit more pronounced and with a mighty mountain looming tall — Kelvin's Cairn. And here, although it was only just slightly further north, it grew noticeably colder.

After just a couple of hours of travel and by Rhydd's impeccable navigation, Caer-Konig fell into view.

---

Continued in the Caer Konig thread. I'll ping Idrianthe's PMs to check if she's still hanging around.

The below passage is moved from thread 3-B. It is the same writing exactly.

---

Only an hour into their trek the twilight faded behind the Spine of the World, blanketing Icewind Dale in darkness. It was overcast, meaning torches and lanterns had to shine the way where the light of Selûne could not reach, and the comforting lights emanating from the windows of Caer-Konig were left behind.

First, the lake had to be circumvented, and there were no roads to follow, in addition very few cairns. Only a mile out, the cairns completely ceased to exist, leaving only the dark silhouette of Kelvin's Cairn and the smallest, most indiscernible hint of the frozen Lac Dinneshere for Farwalker and Idrianthe to make out in the distance. Once upon a time, unless it was the height of winter and the rivers running from the glacier to the Ten-Towns were frozen over, passing into the wilderness east of the lake by foot was impossible. Now, however, it was trivial, and one could barely make out where the ice cut through the terrain.

Ahead laid a long stretch of undisturbed tundra — jagged hills topped with hard, crusty snow as far as the eye could see. Everyone but the downy Wifni, the acclimated Farwalker, and the spiritual Astre and Zula could feel the encroaching chill sting their face and seep into their skin as the temperature plummeted and the rolling winds steadily picked up at the sled's back. And colder it would get. Had one been negligent in assuming one's outerwear back at the inn, it would be wise to turn around.

---

Rhydd's Survival Check [14]: Between the clouded stars and monotonous terrain, navigating became troublesome; it was as if a blizzard had swept in with how limited vision had gotten. Only thanks to Idrianthe and Farwalker was he able to maintain any landmarks at all. Even turning around and trying to see if the footprints they left behind were going in a straight line, it was a trivial matter to err by just a degree or two. In the end, that could add up.

He thought he was doing as good a job as he could thus far, but there was no way to be absolutely confident.

Thankfully, using Idrianthe's compass, he knew exactly where they were headed.

Question; do any of you possess Navigator's Tools or Cartographer's Tools?

---

After more half a day of nothing but snow-laden rocky hills, Reindeer tracks were encountered. Very close by, a singular bull stood atop jutting stone, scouting the area. It too, had trouble in this darkness, for it hadn't seemed to notice Wifni nor anyone in the sled until it was noticed itself. It then sprang down, joining what had to be at most thirty of its herd. A far cry from the several hundred they used to number prior to Auril's influence.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:18, Fri 14 Oct 2022.

Rhydd found himself quite pleased with his new boots and the compass that Idri had crafted for him. While the boots did not make him feel like he was surrounded by a bubble of warmth, they did keep him much more comfortable than he otherwise would be; he knew that for a fact, having been involved in treks in bone-chillingly cold conditions before.

And the compass gave him a significant degree of confidence that he was keeping the group moving in the proper direction. Given the fact that the overcast masked the moon and most of the stars, navigation without it would have been quite iffy, even with Idri's and Farwalker's lending assistance with their Darkvision.

"How is everyone doing?" he called out, assuming that Mallory would be providing magicked warmth as needed, but at the same time well aware that his new boots gave him a degree of comfort that the others would be lacking.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:02, Sat 15 Oct 2022.

It had become a habit of service on Mallory's part to offer warmed boots or cloaks as suited one's tastes.  Her simple Prestidigitative magics served to keep a garment toasty warm wholly in spite of the bitter cold atmosphere; small comfort that it was in the face of all-consuming chills otherwise.  Khulekani and Idri were offered their choice and she kept the third dosage of warmth for herself, confident that Farwalker had no need and that her enchantments were more than taking care of Rhydd presently.

Beyond that, however?  The young noble hadn't been seen the entire trek; she'd bundled herself under heaps of blankets and furs in the back of the sled and refused to come out.  Her Lantern kept under with her allowed her to work on her further crafting in the small cocoon of warmth she could manage to maintain.  She'd only peek out just a bit every hour or so to refresh the warming trick on her companions and then promptly re-bury herself until the next time.

"It's nearly time to refresh the sled.  Shall I conjure another so we can keep going or are we setting down camp?" she called in return, only just visible as a pair of eyes that peeked from a narrow gap under the piled blankets.  It was painful for her to acknowledge that, regardless of whether they continued or stayed where they were, she'd have to come out to cast her various spells no matter what.

---

Just in case it's relevant to Idri at all: the Party travels by way of a sled magically conjured out of thin air by Mallory.  Depending on how well-learned Idri is on spellcraft, she might recognize that it's a custom-made spell Mallory herself invented rather than one established in history or general practice.

Khulekani was a child of Athkatla, which was much warmer than the constant freeze of Icewind Dale. And despite her warm winter clothing and heavy cloak, it was no surprise that after many miles of the harsh wind stinging her in the face that the squire accepted Mallory's offer to magically warm her clothing. It was like having a bed warmer with none of the dangers of fire, or being overcome by noxious fumes.

It was delightful.

Or at least, less miserable.

She could only imagine what Zula must be feeling. Although she was no normal horse, Khulekani did not know for sure if heat and cold bothered her in the same way. But their friendship made her ere on the side of caution and assume it did. And so for much of the journey she prayed for her friend's warmth and health.

"That would be up to our man of the woods, now would it not?" Khulekani asked in reply to Mallory's question, as she trusted Rhydd's wilderness knowledge.

She was a champion for the downtrodden and innocent, she was no ranger of the north, after all. Best let those of expertise make these kinds of decisions.

Idrianthe had magicked up mapping tools for Rhydd before they left, and apparently found time to change into winter travel clothes and snow shoes while she did.

The trek had been tiring, even on the sled, and she happily accepted magical warmth on her heavy wool socks -- just in case her boots might risk melting the snow. Toasty cozy toesies!

How marvelously enchanted these travelers were, with their conjured sled and ensorcelled belongings. In particular, Idri had been eyeballing Mallory's staff and Khulekani's sword when her darksight wasn't needed. Fascinating items, clearly dear to their bearers. What she could accomplish with a bit of time and the right materials...

"Doing well, for my part!" She contributed, when Rhydd's and Mallory's questions broke the quiet. "This is a much finer form of travel than mere feet, my compliments to the master and the magician who make it possible."

"I think that halting for a camping period would be wise," Rhydd replied after considering Mallory's and Khulekani's comments.

"We have made good progress in spite of the conditions, and I think 'twould be best to arrive at our goal reasonably rested and with magicks refreshed."

"Lady Mallory, are you inclined to magick up the usual accommodations? Even if that is the case, I shall do my best to pick out a good spot for our camp. In spite of such magicks, I  am a little old-fashioned in preferring somewhere that will provide some shelter from the wind, whilst still affording good lines of sight."

"Mistress Idrianthe, can you assist me in that endeavor?

---

OOC:
15:49, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 25 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 20.  Picking a Likely Camping Spot.

Notes: I have assumed that either Idri or Farwalker will assist Rhydd, and hence have not rolled with Disadvantage.

As she normally did, Farwalker was working carefully on small pieces of bone, slowly piecing something together. Occasionally, she’d file thin sheets off of a nugget of gold that she had formed into a square. Whatever she was working on, she was taking even more care than she normally did.

Whenever she took a break, it involves quite a bit of finger and back stretching. Which is exactly what she proceeded to do when the group stopped for the last time that day. “I can set up the camp this time.” She had pulled her shield from her pack and was fiddling with one of the straps. “Pacing the hut out will be good for my back.”

Mallory was more than happy to trust Rhydd's judgment when it came to finding a spot to tuck in for the night.  Her magics could do plenty to make anywhere they stopped livable for a brief time, but the better suited their campsite was to begin with, the better.  Farwalker's suggestion to handle the camp herself, however, raised the young noble's brow incredulously.

Not that anyone could see that since she only just barely peered out from amid her bundling, but still.

"Oh come now, Miss Farwalker, you're not that tall." she chided.  Regardless, she was curious as to what the Goliath meant to do when it came to housing for the night.  "Still... what did you have in mind?"

"Happily, Mr. Maldhon!" Idrianthe had replied, and assist him she did, providing her natural eyesight advantages to the problem of finding good ground for them to take a rest on.

Once that had occurred to Rhydd's satisfaction, Idrianthe popped off the sled and carefully swung her pack off from around her shoulders to stretch out her collarbone. There was an unsubtle pop! when she did so. "Oh goodness, that must be twice as exhausting for the animals," she mumbled, then picked her pack up by the top to clear the sled so everyone else could engage in whatever their camping routine was.

"It sounds, Lady Bonheur, as though Madam Farwalker intended to magically summon a shelter, and that the ritual to do so involves demarcating its structure with a walked perimeter. Is this... Not usually how you camp? I would have assumed, all these fine crafts being passed around and worn by your company, that it would be a simple conjure." As she rambled, Idri used her orphaned upper arm to broadly indicate Rhydd's boots and... Well... Everyone else in the party. They did not appear short of magical possessions to her trained eye!

"Indeed." She ran a thumb over a scratch along the paint of her shield, the metal gleaming and perfect underneath. She never fixed the paint, only had it repainted when it was finally too scratched up to go on as an image. Even with a few scratches, the shield still obviously had the night sky painted on it, with several constellations present. "It is much the same as your own spell. Just slightly different, of course." She smiled at that slight joke. "Besides. Being hunched over working on delicate bone has taken it's toll. My body is not quite as robust as it used to be."

"We've never camped before." Mallory corrected the assumption gently.  She had the distinct feeling that Idri thought they were a team of wandering adventurers... a matter which Mallory herself took some umbrage with.  "I certainly do have magics that can shape the ground and shield us from the elements, but it's not as if I make a habit of sleeping outdoors.  Ever.  And whatever Miss Farwalker is suggesting she use is news to me."

A hard breeze blew through across the snow as Mallory stepped down from the sled herself.  Even with her many blankets and draped furs still bundled about her body, it was enough to make the poor woman flinch and hunker down on herself.  "Whatever it is you propose, do get on with it, please!"

"I would comment that it must be so nice to be able to influence the Weave through will alone, but I know from experience that Arcane study is an entire life's pursuit, and that such knowledge is hard won and earned. Still, being able to summon shelter instead of having to go through the physical motions of setting up camp must be nice," Khulekani said with a small, cheeky grin.

As the others discussed what to do about their camping arrangements, the young squire made sure to look Zula over for any signs of injury from travel, or pained hooves. It may be cold, but she wanted to make sure her friend was okay before she saw to her own needs.

"It's not as effortless as we mages make it appear, but it does certainly allow one to travel light." Mallory shrugged.  "There are better accommodations I'd rather conjure.  But that's a whole other kettle.  I've been researching the works of Wizards like Galder, but that sort of craft is quite involved and difficult to find information on.  Reverse-engineering a spell without being able to lay eyes on its written formula is a daunting matter.

There's one I know of, penned by Mordenkainen: a grand archwizard allegedly hailed from another world.  I've been trying to puzzle out its workings since I was just a child and am hardly any closer now than ever." she clutched her Lantern Rod that much closer to herself even though its bright flame offered no warmth.  Even as her teeth began to chatter, she turned to talking in order to keep moving and distracted from the cold.  "Its complexity is immense and multi-layered, to say nothing of the raw power needed to cast it.  A terrible shame, really: if I could perform that spell, it'd not just spare us rough camping, but it could alleviate the suffering of those in Ten-Towns immensely."

“I often wonder at the use of magic.” Farwalker added as she slowly paced a large circle through the snow. Given her height, it didn’t really bother her too much. “Power comes from somewhere. What little I know is that no one quite knows where that is. It’s called the Weave. Does that make it a fabric of sorts? Do all the little twists and turns we put into it slowly pull away at what we have?” She let out a soft hum as she pondered aloud, slowly tapping a rhythm against her shield with large knuckles.

"Are you being hypothetical or do you actually want to know?" For once, Mallory managed to restrain herself from simply bounding into a lecture.  Had it been anyone other than Farwalker, she would've assumed the latter immediately, but the Goliath was rather inscrutable at times.

“Mm. It’s all hypothetical.” She replied with as much good cheer as a person could have while walking in circles. “My favourite theory I heard was that the astral was in fact a dead realm that we are leaching from to power ourselves. I thought his discussion on the power of collective faith was particularly interesting. Belief is a power itself, and those with the proper zeal can perform miracles that shouldn’t be possible even for those granted the tiniest sliver of divinity.” She idly kicked a rock out of her path, watching it sail a good ways before disappearing once more into the snow. “But my knowledge on the workings of power is more theological in its way. Which is how the gods influence the weave. Which is quite a bit. The more powerful being able to alter how reality works around them without even a thought. But, pulling fact from fiction is the work of lifetimes. Especially when reality decides it needs to go through phases like a surly teenager. Completely turns certain works irrelevant.”

"But, pulling fact from fiction is the work of lifetimes. Especially when reality decides it needs to go through phases like a surly teenager. Completely turns certain works irrelevant.”

To that, Mallory could only sigh heavily - which manifested itself as a deep plume of steam that seeped out from her many covers - and nod ruefully.  "You're certainly not wrong there.  I have professors back home who still argue to the point of fisticuffs over the proper identification of Planar layering since the last time the cosmos rearranged themselves and rendered an entire school of study obsolete.  And then there was the Spellplague a century ago that turned everything on its head.  And on top of all that, there's always been contrarian factions deliberately spreading misinformation about The Weave to obscure its nature."

A lot had happened in the last few centuries, really.  Grand, reality-altering events that went without understanding by so many, especially given a broad lack of arcane education throughout the realm, or never even learned of in the first place from poor conveyance of news.  So much ended up being known only as wild rumors and hearsay.  The people of Ten-Towns seemed quite certain it was Auril responsible for their woes, to the point that the likes of Farwalker sought to end it directly, but Mallory herself hadn't heard a whisper of such troubles in the south.  Would the truth end up being just rumors and tales before long as well?

"The gods in general don't control or directly influence The Weave itself though.  Rather, one does.  The Weave is an extension of Mystra, the goddess of Magic.  It's a medium... a conduit, through which all beings - gods included - are safeguarded from the overwhelming power of Raw Magic and can influence the world around them." the young noble explained in a measured tone as she watched Farwalker march about in whatever ritual she had going was.  "In that way, we all share equal roots.  All beings are touched by magic in the same way and may potentially manipulate it to the same degree, at the heart of all things.  The only reason the gods wield the power you speak of is because they enjoy a mostly unfettered access to The Weave that has been withheld from we mortals.  Mystra intentionally holds us at bay and has cut us off from that potential.  For our own good, mind you; she's demonstrably right to do it."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:55, Wed 19 Oct 2022.

Night fell, bearing the splendid aurora of the Frostmaiden's making behind the cloudy veil, and not a soul was seen throughout the watch.