Rhydd had gone down on one knee to take a closer look at the Illithid that he had slain with his arrows. He had a gut feeling that he and his companions had gotten off rather lightly against such foes -- but that they might not fare so well if they were ever to face such creatures again. He, for one, was in no hurry to tempt the Gods of Battle -- at least not against . . . what had someone called them . . . "Mind-Flayers"?

Rising to his feet when Mallory appeared, huffing and puffing, he strolled over to stand by her side. Rhydd shrugged and replied "Such things happen," when the wizardess muttered something about "missing the whole thing."

"And in any event, as some bard, somewhere, once said, 'All's well that ends well.'"

However, it seemed that the archer had perchance spoken too soon when Mallory abruptly flinched and said in a pained voice that something outside -- some sort of a monster -- had "gotten Astre."

Rhydd sucked in his breath and hoped that the doughty feline had managed to avoid being injured too badly by whatever sort of creature was outside.

To her credit, Idri reacted more quickly than the archer, and he handed her the end of her magicked rope . . .

Mallory's thoughts whirled about in her head as she tried to sort everything out as quickly as she could.  She'd been so caught up in the exertion of hurrying up the tunnel that she'd not been paying clear attention to Astre's line of communication and had to make sense of it all after the fact.  She hadn't heard the Illithid's parting message, but Astre had and thus it relayed to her as well.  Dead Squidlings?  The arrival of that strange monstrosity outside coincided both with the Illithid's remark and retreat, and none of it boded well with her one bit.  The more she racked her brain trying to make sense of what Astre told her, the less sense it made.

Idri's comforting touch at her shoulder ended up a tether to anchor her as well.  Even as Rhydd reached to offer her the rope, Mallory instead held fast to Idri's hand with a nervous grip that refused to let go.  She glanced between the two and furtively shook her head, clearly spooked well beyond even what she'd expressed in explaining what a nightmare scenario the Illithids were prior.

"Don't... I... I have a very bad feeling about this, Idri." her voice dropped to a hush, as if she feared the thing outside might hear even at such range and under the din of perpetual snowstorm.  "Astre is stealthy as a ghost when he wants to be and that... thing... plucked him out of the sky with a spell at range.  We'd be little more than target practice climbing out the tunnel one after another.

I've studied the ecology of this Plane and many others for years, and I have no idea what that thing is.  But it's enormous, it has magic, it found its way here out of nowhere, and I think it just killed an entire ship of Illithid spawn by mere proximity.  It seems too big to get down tunnel, but with magic involved I can't put anything aside.  It looks like some kind of Owlbear mutation, with ram horns, yet it wears clothing?  I don't know... I wasn't sharing Astre's senses, so it's hard to convey.  It doesn't match anything I know of..." Every word she said brought about a building air of fear in the young noble.  Being afraid of things she understood and could grasp their abilities of was one thing, and a reasonable thing at that.  But whatever the creature outside was, what it could do... the fact that she didn't recognize any of it despite all her years of intense study, that it was still a mystery to her when Aberrations from the Far Realms and ancient magical relics from a bygone era thousands of years prior weren't?  That was more terrifying to her than she could properly express.  "I... I think we should retreat.  Further back into the Spire, or even hiding within my pocket space spell, should it come to that..."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:09, Tue 06 June 2023.

---

Rhydd's Survival on things like the being outside [24]: It was far from uncommon for rangers and survivalists beyond the Spine of the World to pay tribute to Auril, not in veneration or honor, but in fear and deference. She was the winter, and she could be cruel and harsh if not appeased. She was the long, onerous night. She was cold, impartial death. Here, many a month belonged to her, and under her reign the forests laid still. It wasn't before summer was burgeoning in the lands down south that spring trickled in to Icewind Dale and activity resumed under Mielikki's banners as Snowy Owlbears roused from their dens and arctic foxes emerged from their burrows. As such, even those who preferred to keep the Cold Goddess at a distance were forced to know her.

And as Mielikki was reputed to wander the forests, so too did Auril occasionally visit her frigid domains. When she did, the legends spoke of a large, monstrous being the amalgam of owl, ram, and wolf lurking in the heart of particularly violent blizzards.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:42, Tue 06 June 2023.

Rhydd's eyes widened as he listened to Mallory speak her piece, and the blood slowly drained from his face. When he himself answered, 'twas naught but a whisper.

"Out there . . . 'tis not a what, but a Who. She's here. Right now, right outside the Spire . . . the Frostmaiden Herself."

The archer glanced down dumbly at the rope that he had been about to hand to Idri, as if such demonstrably ordinary items -- or even low-magicked ones, as this one was . . . suddenly mattered little in the face of the powers that could be brought to bear by a Goddess . . .

The were a lingering moment of open disbelief in Mallory's expression at such a claim.  At first she huffed a soft, half-laugh at the very idea.  "Rhydd, don't be ridiculous.  That's not... she isn't... why would..." With each half-started retort that died on her painted lips, her tone went to confusion, to denial, but quickly fell silent as she took in Rhydd's own countenance.  He wasn't a man to joke nor speak hastily in the first place, let alone about such a thing.  It was that understanding that brought Mallory's already present fear into a surge of genuine terror that quickly had her gasping for breath with the struggle to not hyperventilate.

Her free hand immediately lifted, shaking like a leaf, to brush away her dark hair at one side.  Her ears were rarely seen thanks to the dense cover of her long, wavy hair and the hood she kept up nearly at all times against the cold.  At her exposed ear was a simple earring that she gingerly clutched at; a thin triangle made of wrought silver, set with a trio of star-shaped accents.  An old-fashioned but recognizable holy symbol of Tymora - an ironic choice of patron goddess for a so-called diviner to bear, perhaps, but that didn't stop a half-wheezed string of desperate prayers the young noble hurried out beneath her gasps.

"We... we we we can't... there's nowhere to..." panic began to set in as she darted her gaze about to the others, to the tunnel that led above into the tundra, and then back down into the varied routes which retreated further into the Spire's depths.  Her mind was already a noisy, busy place full of overthinking but, in the moment, her thoughts whirled like a dizzying storm.  "No.  No, absolutely not.  No.  I'm not dying here, not like this.  I will not do that to my family." she sharply turned about-face and strode, albeit shakily, to head back further inside to where she knew the Study laid within the lower floor.  "Leave the bodies.  I can... I'll get us out of this.  It worked before on a Dragon and a Lich, it can work here too."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:13, Wed 07 June 2023.

"Hngraaah!" Brak grunted as he summoned his strength to hack off Knerk's head with a crude knife they had kept around. Donk then found a dirty rag and they proceeded to wrap the decapitated head tightly, blood seeping through, before Brak strapped it to his belt. "Show the way, Wizard. We will follow you, and, if it comes to it, fight with you."

"Fight?  One doesn't fight a malevolent deity any more than one fights an avalanche.  One suffers them, endures, and - with luck - survives." Mallory barked outright with hollow laughter at the very suggestion.  She didn't break her stride, too thrust into her own desperate momentum to consider pausing lest she not be able to bring herself to move again, not even to raise disgust over the treatment of poor Knerk's remains.

"I have the sinking feeling our exploration of the Spire is what drew the attention of the Illithids and Auril alike.  The timing is too much to be coincidence.  My friends all came here on my request... this is my responsibility." she shook her head sternly.  It was far from the first time that her good intentions had led to catastrophe.  "No, I'm going to do everything I can to hide us.  But... if it comes down to a confrontation, I'll face her myself.  Hopefully buy you all a few moments opportunity to escape."

Idrianthe, who had absorbed Mallory's fear and prudence with the benefit of a face covered in mithral -- convenient when, g5ven her instinct was to make a number of rather undignified expressions -- finally willed the armor to reveal her again when Mallory made her declaration.

"A deeply noble, and deeply nonsensical, oath to make, Mallory," She answered calmly, brows knitted in a sort of bitter sympathy. "You are a powerful spellworker and a brave person, but none of us would delay a goddess any more than would a pane of glass. Maybe if there were dozens of you focusing on her, maybe, but..."

Idrianthe faded to silence, gears working behind her eyes.

"...It is a shame that the slime we dealt with is drawn to heat instead of chill. Do you... Do you suppose that's a natural element of their biology, or specific to how the evocation chant interacted with their creation? Assuming our hypothesis that they were connected to the artifact malfunctioning is correct, of course."

---

12:29, Today: Idrianthe Mar rolled 14 using 1d20+7.  Arcana.

Just in case I could answer my own question, which I doubt.

Deeply noble yet deeply nonsensical.  Mallory spared a rueful half-smile; that about summarized the state of her entire life as of late.  "Oh, I've no intention of testing that if I can help it.  But... well, I am the so-called 'Witch of Neverwinter', after all.  Full of tricks."

On that point, she withdrew a coil of sturdy rope from its latch on the side of her pack and began to measure out a few feet in preparation.  "And, for my first trick, I'll be making us all disappear." Of the lost present, only Rhydd had experienced Mallory's panic room of a spell, but she didn't feel she had any time to explain things properly in the moment otherwise.  Once they'd reached the threshold of the Study where she knew the silencing enchantment laid, Mallory tossed out a length into the room near along a side wall and focused herself to steady her fearful heart.

"Writ of the Weave, warp and weft.  Knit and gnarl, notch and knot, not a stitch in time for nine; spare a stitch in space for eight."  As she spoke her incantation, the rope writhed like a living thing and the far end cast into the the silent Study abruptly lifted straight up to set itself a few feet off the floor, seemingly hung on nothing at all.  "Right, come along now, quick and orderly.  Hold the rope, crouch down low, and follow it up - there's a pocket dimension hiding on the other end.  Settle in and pray to whatever god you wish, so long as it's not the one lurking around outside."

Within the conjured pocket space, as before, was a strange nest of writhing grey smoke that made up the "floor" and lower walls of the chamber.  Seemingly nothing but mist yet solid enough to rest on.  Overhead was a bubble of space forced between the realms that served as a window of sorts and, beyond that, the spiraling expanse of stars, distant galactic clouds, and floating fragments of alien landscapes adrift on the invisible currents of the Astral Sea.  Mallory herself, however, would be the last one inside by choice.

---

Assuming there's no argument against the plan, Mallory will lead everyone to the Study and cast "Rope Trick" as discussed in the OOC.  Low enough to the floor to hopefully avoid detection from a sufficiently large being lurking around, while high enough that even our larger Party Members can still squeeze in without getting stuck.  Mallory will take up the rear and go in last, while pulling the rope in after them to fully seclude the pocket space.

As before, an illustrative example of some of the stuff folk would see outside the viewing capsule that is the Rope Trick - https://i.imgur.com/xYDuzB0.jpg
This message was last edited by the player at 17:17, Thu 08 June 2023.

"Ah, I recognize those magicks," Rhydd murmurred as he gazed upwards at the seemingly-empty space above the top end of the rope.

"I'll lead the way," he offered, "since I've been there and done that before -- so to speak."

"Don't worry," the archer was quick to add. "There's nothing to fear . . . well, unless you don't pay attention and float away -- off into the stars -- I suppose."

Given the outdoorsman's dead-pan delivery, it was difficult to tell whether he was warning of an actual danger, or was simply pulling the leg(s) of his less-knowledgeable companions.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 19:18, Fri 09 June 2023.

"The stars are a lovely place to get lost, we should be so lucky." Idri half-smirked, but the weight of the situation and the memory of Knerk kept her from achieving a real sense of levity. She didn't want to criticize Bugbear culture, but she also really, really didn't care for it right now, either, as she cast a spare glance at the bloody sack on Brak's belt.

Idrianthe would normally have wanted to shepherd everyone else through, but she got the sense that Mallory would feel better if she was the one who took the risk of waiting. Following Rhydd's example, the heavy-armored elf entered the Silent Study, lay down on her back, and slid until she could see the extraplanar foxhole the rope led upwards into. Idri secretly hoped it was an amusing sight for everyone else, watching her sit up in place only to disappear from the waist up. The rest of her disappeared as she fully entered the space and made room for whomever came next.

Looking around at the alien space of the astral plane, Idrianthe was struck with a faraway longing to her youth. She remembered Witchholm so clearly, the scent of ozone that filled the air, the alien sky very much like this one which she had sometimes seen on the more circuitous routes across the cosmos. In a twisted way, this felt a little bit like seeing familiar landmarks on the long road to home.

But this wasn't the right time. Instead of falling backwards into reverie, Idrianthe did her best to help everyone else through in a timely and orderly fashion.

---

Does the silence extend into the rope trick?

The Bugbears were big and clumsy, but it was a sort of efficient clumsiness, perhaps spurred on by the dire situation, which allowed them to file into the temporal space fast and orderly. They were not perturbed by the silent enchantment over the library, for they had explored it earlier, nor did the simmering Astral soup or any of its ingredients, living or otherwise, faze them. It was ruled safe by magic folk, and that was good enough. Though the enclosure Mallory had conjured could theoretically fit another resident, the Bugbears were as large and bulky as Farwalker so space became contested. It also quickly became obvious, especially as Donk found room to lift a hairy arm to scratch underneath it, that the Bugbears hadn't bathed in a good while, if ever.

The Silence over the study did not extend into the extradimensional space, but the usually boisterous Goblinoids stayed silent all the same, even if lectured on the fact that no sound would escape.

Time passed slowly. Here, the biting cold did not reach, but glancing through the hatch revealed breaths of ice and snow permeated by the blizzard above dancing upon floor and toppled, ruined Netherese books. But it did not get worse. After a good while, perhaps half an hour, it even seemed to die down.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:07, Mon 12 June 2023.

The close proximity was of no bother to Mallory.  Perhaps she might've been more displeased for it had the circumstances been less dire but, when instantaneous doom lurked so nearby and no assurance of safety was certain despite her efforts?  No, she could withstand quite a bit of discomfort.  She spared no noise or conversation herself and scarcely even breathed, as if she worried the very sound of inhalation might somehow reach Auril or that she might not be able to stop herself from hyperventilating if her focus wavered even a moment.

It wasn't the cold that made her tremble, however.  Nor was it the tight confines of their hiding place that urged her to press near to Rhydd's side, or to seek to clench his hand if he allowed it.  In such moments of distress prior she would've clung to Astre for comfort and the lack of Tressym was an overt void.  Like half of Mallory wasn't there, and the half that remained was diminished for the absence.

Well after the glimpse of the outside they had afforded some chance of potential with the lack of creeping ice lingering in view, the young noble didn't dare move.  Not until the hour duration of the spell neared its last moments did she finally breathe deep and gestured for the others' attention.  "The spell's nearly spent.  Just stand up and relax your knees - it'll be a short drop.  Steady on your guard, everyone." she warned as she rose herself, more than a bit stiff from having been tucked in and tense for so long.  Her announcement came with plenty of time for everyone to rise and steady themselves before the surrounding mists grew dense as they rose up to slowly encapsulate the view of the Astral Sea, to blot it out and leave them surrounded in grey fog before - like a soap bubble - the pocket space they hid in simply ceased to be around them.  All at once the lot were back in the Silent Study, albeit a few feet off the floor, and everyone would promptly, if quietly, drop a short ways to land as steady as they cared.

Mallory herself was indeed instantly on guard; Lantern Rod brandished as she darted her gaze about to look for any trace of the prowling goddess or other threats that might've risen in her wake.

It appeared the threat had passed. A wary inspection of the upper level, which eventually led into the tunnel and to the surface, revealed no trace of the Frostmaiden. The blizzard still raged, just at a non-supernatural intensity. What remained was just harsh weather. Still lethal if not heeded, those familiar with the region knew, but far from unmanageable.

The Bugbears kept at the back at Brak's request, as neither considered sneaking among their strengths. But they would join to the outside, eager to free themselves from the burden of what proved to be a very demanding lair.

---

One of you (preferably the one spearheading the marching order) can give me a Perception Check.

Idrianthe was tired. She and Mallory had foregone the short breathers the others had taken over the course of their archaeological delve, and the Witch-Knight was starting to feel it. But she kept on-task while they cleared the structure a second time, shield up to absorb a surprise danger that, mercifully, never came.

When Idri finally let her helmet sweep back and disappear into the plating of her enchanted armor, her eyes were shadowed with weariness. "It would appear we've survived. Something everyone should include a full chapter on in their memoirs, I suspect 'The occasion when I smartly avoided murder at the hands of a goddess, or, the value of multidimensional hidey-holes.'" The emptiness of mirth in her voice did not do much for the poor stab at humor, but such was life.

"We owe you our lives, Mallory. Thank you."

---

Ah, the age-old challenge of being the person who is well-equipped to tank a hit and probably should stand in front, but who lacks really top-shelf perception.

Pulling up the hood of his heavy winter coat in an effort to ward off some of the wind-driven snow and sleet, Rhydd turned to Mallory.

"Those magicks of yours are just the thing," he said with a smile. "That's twice they have saved us from almost certain death -- the first time involving a White Dragon, and now the Frostmaiden Herself."

The archer bowed from the waist. "'Tis in our best interests to keep you around, it seems."

Then, given the change in his expression, it seemed that a more serious thought occurred to the outdoorsman. "Astre?" he asked, the feline's name hanging heavy in the frosty air . . .
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 18:00, Tue 20 June 2023.

Words of gratitude, sprinkled with coping-with-fear humor as they were, didn't sit well with Mallory as of late.  For a moment her memories roiled up and whisked her away from the frozen winds and icy halls; her recollection was back in the balmy breezes of Neverwinter, circled by two of her brothers and various lead workmen at the dockside offices.  Of the friendly laughter and thanks they expressed over her divinations having laid the way for a rise in their fortunes, for the opportunities it made for their families and workers.  A swell of pride rose in her chest... and sank like a lead weight into the pit of her belly as the present returned to her with a howl of wind.

In the wake of all the disasters she'd caused, of the trouble she'd dragged everyone into... accepting gratitude simply felt... wrong.



There was indeed no sign of the adventurous Tressym about.  It wasn't too unusual for him to be gone for hours at a time out of Mallory's company only to spontaneously reappear seemingly from thin air, as cats were wont to do.  But the young noble's own remarks prior - that Auril had 'got' him - and the look of pain that struck her in that moment spoke of something being amiss.  "He... he'll catch up later." Mallory offered no greater explanation than that without prompting, though she gave a fitful glance to their Bugbear companions in worry.  Afraid to say what had happened to her own dearest friend in their company.  Spellcraft would restore Astre - even as his absence pained her, she felt undeserving of expressing it.  Her loss could be undone where theirs couldn't, and she felt as though she had no right to her sadness by comparison.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:39, Tue 20 June 2023.

As everyone made their way outside, Farwalker concluded the Frostmaiden nor any other danger had lurked behind in an attempt to catch stragglers. At least not in the immediate vicinity. Something could still lie beyond the hills, but they'd find that out sooner rather than later. There was of course the matter of the Nautiloid, which was devoid of any signs of lice and covered in a layer of ice. One oddity, which the Goliath had not anticipated or been warned of, was the presence of dead Kobolds partly buried in the snow. She'd first noticed a bleak, mottled claw sticking up, and soon enough revealed two more. All frozen to death.

The Bugbears hadn't noticed, as Brak focused on screening himself from the raging blizzard as he aided Donk out of the tunnel. "We'll be headed to Karkolohk!" he cried out. "If any of you wish to follow us, you can! You ain't Goblinoid, but Chief Yarb-Gnock will understand!" By the looks of it, they intended to make the journey on foot.

And with Wifni absent, so did it seem any journey had to be.

Mallory had braced herself for the terrible sight of poor Wifni frozen into a macabre statue where she nested when they all rose to the surface at long last.  That the Axe Beak was nowhere to be seen was honestly a relief.  Her escape left them without a valuable mount to aid in carrying them back to what passed for civilization, but it was at least a tiny bit of balm for the young noble's spirit that yet another hadn't died.  Whether Wifni would thrive out in the wilds, somehow find her way back to Ten-Towns, or simply be a Crag Cat's lunch within the hour was up to fate and out of Mallory's hands though.

Of course, that wasn't to say there was no carnage to behold topside.  The frozen-over Nautiloid was quite the staggering thing to see.  Perhaps the ice could be chiseled and melted way with sufficient time but, all things considered, she was content to let the blizzard bury it forever.  Such vessels were a nightmare and she was loathe to even consider going inside, no matter what extra-dimensional wonders it might've contained.

The Kobold corpses were a bit of a surprise and the young noble curiously leaned around Farwalker's side to spy them.  "Poor darlings..." she sighed pityingly.  Her time in the family business actually made Mallory rather fond of Kobolds as they were frequent trade partners for a particular client.  A wave of her staff shifted the snow about with a magical surge to uncover the remains a bit, curious as to their nature.



Mallory looked up from her examination to cast a querying gaze among her companions.  "Based on the map from before, we're all heading west a ways, regardless.  Best we at least stick together for safety until our paths diverge.  Karkolohk is tempting, but further off west than our destination." Part of her figured the Bugbears could handle themselves since they'd gotten to the Spire in the first place just fine, but... well, after all that had happened, she wasn't entirely confident they'd make it back home without aid.  "Which settlement of Ten-Towns is nearest Karkolohk anyway?"

---

Mallory casts "Mold Terrain" to uncover and examine the Kobold corpses.  Rhydd found tracks that might've been Kobolds' prior; does this seem to be them?  Do they look like they stumbled across the Spire as well or is there any indication they might've been Illithid slaves?  Are they carrying anything worth noting or taking?
This message was last edited by the player at 21:01, Tue 27 June 2023.

"Which settlement of Ten-Towns is nearest Karkolohk anyway?"
"Vakrash," came the reply from Brak, "or Bryn Shander as you call it. But all of the Human settlements are far away."

Once the snow was lifted from the Kobolds, it became evident that these weren't recently dead — they had clearly been dead for a while and were in the process of decomposing. They were nearly skeletal, with grayish skin instead of the typical vibrant reddish one would expect, and holes punched through their cheeks to reveal their molars. They were carrying nothing of note, nor were they wearing much in terms of clothes or equipment.

A quick examination of the Kobold corpses yielded nothing but confusion from Mallory.  She cast a look amid her companions paired with a helpless shrug of her shoulders; nothing learned of use.  Recollection of the tracks Rhydd found prior came to mind but none of it made sense.  The corpses were long decayed, so it couldn't have been them responsible.  But the notion that a rising blizzard didn't blow away the tracks yet did uncover the corpses didn't sit right with her either.  She felt there was something amiss but she couldn't place her finger on it.

"Do you make anything of this, Rhydd?  How do these bodies match up with the tracks you saw earlier?  Maybe there's a Kobold den nearby?" she asked over her shoulder.  It was more a point of concern, really.  A nearby colony wouldn't be a place of refuge since she held greater worry it would herald the presence of another White Dragon... if not the same one... which had assaulted their lot prior.

Rhydd squatted down on his haunches to get a better look at the corpses of the dead Kobolds. The holes punched through their cheeks puzzled him, and Mallory had raised a good point about the tracks that he had seen previously.

The outdoorsman stroked his chin-whiskers and thought over what he had seen, and what it might mean . . .

---

OOC:
12:23, Today: Rhydd Maldhon rolled 8 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 3.  Survival Check re: Dead Kobolds.

Comments: Ugh. That's an ugly roll. Maybe it was a DC 5 Check for an outdoorsman of Rhydd's stature . . . :)

---

Rhydd's Survival to track the Kobolds [8]: In a blizzard like this, one would need astronomical luck to come over any tracks, and that was if they hadn't yet been whisked away. Two thing Rhydd could affirm though, were that the tracks he had seen earlier must have corresponded to these three and that they had been buried underneath the snow for a good while.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:40, Sun 02 July 2023.

Rhydd rose to his feet after studying the scene in front of him for a bit.

"Been lying buried in the snow for a good while," he said.

"Those tracks we glimpsed earlier probably belonged to this lot."

After glancing around and bending over backwards to stretch his lower back, he added "Can't tell anything about a den being nearby . . . or not. Wouldn't surprise me, though."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 15:10, Wed 05 July 2023.

Rhydd seemed to get about as much out of the scene as Mallory herself did which, given his greater expertise, reassured her that there wasn't much to glean in the first place at all.  She offered a gesture of prayer to the dead over the Kobolds' bodies and, unless others had reason to interfere, would ply the same magics she'd uncovered them by to instead bury them within the snow once more.  It was a poor send-off but better than leaving them exposed to the elements.

"One more mystery for the pile, it seems." Mallory sighed as she pulled her hood closer about her head against the billowing winds.  "In any case, we shouldn't linger.  No telling if Auril might decide to double-back around here sooner or later, so best we get a move on.  Squire Kumalo, if you could summon Zula, I'll get to conjuring us a sled.  She won't be able to pull all of us, but the less we have to carry on our shoulders, the better."

---

Mallory's all set for the scene change, in this case.  Her "Phantom Vehicle" and "Tiny Hut" ritual spells can help the Party travel and shelter as necessary.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:04, Tue 04 July 2023.