Dabbert turns when the Orcs get up, and he starts to rise from his chair...then they sit back down and he turns back to the Doc and shrugs.  

"I uh...manners."  He reminds her softly, then looks at Nefire, who he suspects has been itching for a fight the whole time.  His attention shifts then to Syl, who is moving toward the door.  He catches the old man's gaze and gives him a look like 'are you flippin' crazy?' and then shrugs before turning back to Mudge and hiking his thumb over his shoulder.  

"That uh...old saltdog?"  Dabbert whispers.  "He's one of the uh...good ones.  You know?  Real nice fella.  Funny as the day is long.  I'm just saying.  Get me another for the road?"  

He pays up his tab and then some extra and slides the stein back toward her.  Whatever she sits in front of him, he kills as quick as he can, wipes his mouth on his sleeve, and rises.  

"Alright then.  Let's get to it I guess."  He says as he walks over to Syl and pats the man's shoulder.  

Raevyn casts a side glance at Dabbert for his patronizing. An amused chuff escapes her nose. A bit of a double standard no? Was it her tone? Her profession? Her sex? Her race? Funny how it was unacceptable for her to mischievously toss about insults to get a rise out of others, specifically those who were looking down on Nefire due to her size. While their strong willed halfling didn’t need the Doctor to come to her defence, Raevyn supports and has her friends back. While she meant no disrespect, it was her point to make. Don’t under estimate.

Raevyn then turns to the orcs in question. “Good.” She walks over to them. “You still have some fight left in you.” She says genuinely for them to stand up straighter. “We take this job seriously.” She assures, understanding that they have reasons of their own as to why they don’t return to the mines. “We don’t go lightly, as we understand this is part of your livelihood. Our goal is to return that to you.” The doctor then gently corrects and smooths out their attire. “Keep the drink flowing and the fires going here at the Frosty Beard for our return.” She pats. “And if you’re going to give Mudge a hard time, at least make it worth it.” She winks. 

With that, Raevyn gives a respectful dip of her head to Mudge for her hospitality. By this time Krumar would hopefully be all geared up and ready to go. She’d meet the others by the door and don her mask. “Shall we then?” She says as she follows Nefire out the door to escort her to her pair of handaxes.

Krumar’s shoulder slump a bit as he starts to pack away all of his instruments as he grumbles. “Sure, let’s leave now….I’m sure they’ll coming looking for us just like they did their friends….” Krumar gathers his things and follow out behind Nefire wondering what stabby thing the Dr has for him

     Perhaps it is odd how quickly the three Orcs rose to their feet ready to fight and then sat down again.  Perhaps not.  They could just be cowards drinking their lives away in a run down forgotten town and just waiting out their lives.  But perhaps it was something else...  ((Anyone can roll a Perception check if they want.  Better than a 15 can check out the spoiler...))

      More than a couple Orcs laugh when Raevyn says the group takes this job seriously.  Raevyn has her say but then an older Orc drinking nearby responds.  "The mine's been closed longer than you been alive, I'd wager.  Anyone trying to scrape scraps out of it is a desperate fool.  If there was fighting to do it'd be done long ago.  Anyone Hrolf lost in the mine either took off for greener pastures or was a figment of his mind long before he entered the mine."  Some nearby nod agreement and if any look to Mudge the best she can offer is a shrug indicating she doesn't really know for sure.

     The Maestro had advised that the mine had dried up score of years ago and that the mine was dried up.  It was a new discovery of the Grunstein, or Greenstone, that is why it is of interest now.  Maestro seemed to believe it was the stories of ghosts and such in the mines that kept other Orcs from investigating it...  But perhaps they just don't believe Hrolf.  Whatever the reason, The Maestro, and thus the High King, is interested in the Greenstone and tasked you with investigating whether this mine truly is a source and if so with solving whatever may be preventing it from being mined.

     The group, however, seems eager to check out the account given by Hrolf of the mine and see for themselves if there is hostages or not, spirits or ghouls or not.  "He's too fragile," Mudge tells Dabbert quietly even as she fills a flask and passes it to him.  "That'll keep you warm.  Take it easy on the stuff though..."  And unless there is more needed doing in the Frosty Beard the party leaves to go reclaim their horses.  As you ready yourselves to head out of town Raevyn unveils the package of silvered arms she had brought along.  There is:

• One Longsword
• Two Shortsword
• A dozen arrows
• A dozen bolts
• Two dozen pieces of ammunition for a sling
• A pair of handaxes

     Everything except for the handaxes are of average quality and not notable in any way except for having been silvered.  The handaxes, however, are pieces of art.  They are high quality weapons and silvered, of course, but they are intricately carved and detailed.  They are show pieces, easily, but also built to last.  It's possible, if not likely, that these handaxes shouldn't have been hastily gathered and bundled with the rest of the items but, obviously, they have been.  There is no sense that they are magical...  Though they do seem quality enough to hold such an enchantment.  Some time is taken to sort out who is taking what, I assume, and then the party is riding out.  ((Any last minute in town things to do, just let me know...))

     The path to the mine is expected to take about four hours.  Though it is dark and cold and the clouds above seem heavy and threatening snow.  The directions take you through a frost-ridden valley where the whispering howl of the wind tells tales of tragic missteps and snowblind wanderers lost forever to those with an active imagination.  The path is difficult to follow as it has snowed lately and likely Hrolf was the last to use it...  

     Who is leading the party / following the directions and path?  Please make a Nature, Perception OR Survival check to not lose the way - DC 12.  Someone can give help if they wish...  If failed and extra hour is added to the trek and someone else can roll one of the other two checks to get everyone back on track..

((Once length of journey determined I'll roll for random encounters and see how things go...))   

Dabbert nods to Mudge and smiles as he takes up the flask and tucks it into his beltline.  He taps his hand on the edge of the orc's table as he heads toward the door.  

"Thanks for the warning."  He says to them, then heads toward the door.  "We'll uh...be back later."  

In the back of his mind, of course, lurks Mudge's words.  'He's too fragile'.  

"Damn.  That is the worst way I've ever heard someone called old."  He mutters to himself.  

When the silvered weapons are produced, Dabbert eyes the twin axes for a moment, but decides that they are probably better suited for someone else.  He takes one of the shortswords instead, replacing the one he typically carries, and slips it into the scabbard on his belt and hopes he doesn't need to use it.  

"Nefire, how's your tracking?"  Dab says after they get underway.  He looks up, watching the cloud.  "Anyone a uh...skilled tracker?  I'm not too shabby but at night with a snowstorm approaching, I'd rather not have to halfass my way."  

Nefire carefully unwraps the hand axes.  She holds up the weapons to the lamplight hanging from the side of the building, turning the weapons in her hands admiring each detail.  The smile on her face shows everything.  True, they were not a great axe, but they were beautiful and strong and silvered and that was perfect for her.  She looks for Raevyn amongst the rest of her party, hurries over to her and gives her a little bow.  "Thank you for these."

And without another word, she secured the new weapons to her belt, climbed on her horse and brought her around, ready to move.  She looks to Dabbert as the fighter addresses her, "Well, snow is new to me, as is this area.  I'm not the best at tracking in areas I'm unfamiliar with, but I'd be happy to assist if someone felt more confident about trying it."

Syl lets the others have their pick of the silvered weapons.  As they walk toward the mine, he will take a gander at their surroundings.  What is there to see in these Orc-lands?

[He's not contributing toward the navigation or safety of the party, just sightseeing.]  

Perception: 6

Krumar takes a silver short sword and touches the tip with his finger nearly pricking it "I guess I should take this in case I need to stick something with the pointy end"

With his silvered short sword in its scabbard, Dab sets out, with the rest of the party right with him as he studies the indentions in the snow, the lay of the land, holes in the underbrush and natural passes in the rocks.  

"Keep your uh...eyes open."  Dab says, eyeing the brush as they go.  "Lots of close spots here, good for an ambush.  Or a trap.  Or a f*ckin' owlbear."  

He cocks an eyebrow at this last suggestion.  

"Ever heard of an owlbear?"  He says, with emphasis on the name of the beast.  "Had a Private in my company once, named uh...Skaggs.  Kid could never follow instructions.  'Hey Skaggs, go dig a fighting hole' would turn into him wandering off to gather firewood.  'Hey Skaggs, sharpen and oil your sword' would turn into rubbing the cavalry horses down.  Well, one day that little toad wandered out into the woods to do...uh...you know, I'm not even sure what he was doing.  But he walked up on an owlbear while he was doing it.  All we found was his boots, and his feet were still in them.  So uh...guess we found his boots and his feet.  But there were these huge paw prints in the snow.  Bloody.  Looked like enough blood for ten kids like Skaggs.  The uh...the owlbear was in the woods all night after that, stalking us.  Hooting.  These big, loud hoots.  Could curl your hair."  

Raevyn helps herself to some silvered crossbow bolts. While she didn’t expect to use them herself, she‘d still rather be over prepared than under. When Nefire takes a moment to thank her for the hand axes she requested specifically for her, she’s met with a small smile and a dip of her head from the doctor. “My pleasure.” In honesty, Raevyn was looking forward to seeing Nefire have a true opportunity to test them.

With Dabbert leading along the trail and filling the air with conversation, Raevyn falls in step with Nefire. A soft hum like melody, sung mostly to herself, the doctor makes a few elegant gestures with her hands. Elements from the air around her pulls to a centre point in an upturned palm, producing a prediction of the weather. She would continue to do this along their route to keep in mind any changes in pattern, and take into account should there be any concerns such as a white out blizzard.

Raevyn’s steps were light, like she glided as she walked the trail. While these weren’t the lands she grew up in, Raevyn felt herself melt into the magic and whimsy that envelops her in the presence of snow. The cold never bothered her anyway.

Spell: [spell[Druidcraft[/spell] 
Survival if still desired: 16 + 2 guidance 
(W/ Nefires advantage) 

Krumar begins to quietly sing to help calm his nerves

"There once was a lad named Skaggs. He wondered into the woods to far from the campfire and heat. An owlbear came and laid waste to his mane. Poor Skaggs is now nothing but feet."

"Hah.  That reminds me of an old song... how did it go...?"  Syl says half to Krumar, half to himself.

"In oceans where giants do dwell,

A blubbery beast, I must tell,

The whale's girth's quite obscene,

Its songs? Just a scream,

A leviathan's ego to swell."

Syl's voice is gravelly and out of tune.

     The journey sucks.  You barely arrived in Eisloch and managed to unfreeze your toes and you were back out into the cold, blustery, miserable excuse for weather and riding even further north.  Raevyn seems able to let it go and become one with the wintery weather, which she assures you will continue but not worsen for at least the next 12 hours, but since everyone else is half frozen, half buried in snow, and fully cursing the decisions which brought them here, that is cold comfort indeed.

     Keeping to the trail is a bit of a community affair with everyone watching for signs and keeping an eye on each other.  Everyone but Syl.  Syl if watching the slow, inevitable but yet continuous and accumulating snowfall, fascinated by the flakes and the windy paths they take down to earth.  He looks to catch the landmarks as well but looking more than a few feet ahead is all but impossible, such is the steady falling snow that it is a veritable wall blocking everything else from sight.

     Indeed the snowfall is so steady and unyielding that time and again you wander off the path only for the sharp eyes of Dabbert or Nefire to catch on that you had strayed before your tracks were covered with fresh snow and it was impossible to backtrack to where you were.  In the worst case of missing a turn it was only through Raevyn looking through the eyes of her familiar and pointing the way that you found the path once more.

     During the third hour of the trek, as the path is dangerously steep and narrow as it winds down and down and down into the blanketed valley, Dabbert tells his tale of owlbear and amputated feet.  Some take the tale more seriously than others but for a while there is quiet amongst the party, the only sound that of the howling of the wind…. Or is that the cry of an owlbear on the hunt for fresh prey?  It’s enough to send a shiver down the spine, if the spine wasn’t already frozen.  It is with the frozen cries of airy owlbear whipping through the dark night that Sylrieth hears a soft, crackling voice whisper in his ear….

      The last leg of the trip to the mines is uneventful but arduous and draining.  The snow is piled so deep upon the floor of the journey that you each must take turns breaking a path for the others to follow.  It would be easy to get lost if not for the fact that a brief break in snowfall had allowed a glimpse of the half buried wooden building that is the entrance to the mine.  A straight line is all it takes to get to it.  A straight line through snow piled higher than any of you are tall….   ((DC 12 Strength Check or you take 1 level of exhaustion.))

     As you trudge through the snow-blanketed valley, the hulking silhouette of the mine gradually takes form ahead. Structures abandoned long ago now stand as silent sentinels, their wooden frames groaning under the oppressive weight of the snow along the abandoned carts and discarded tools.  The mine entrance is a lonely timber cabin that opens onto a black tunnel that seems to devour the light. From the impenetrable silence comes a guttural growl that rumbles into the depths.  This is no echo of an imagine owlbear roar on the wintery winds, this is an icy welcome from the invisible denizens of the deep snowbound  land. 

     “There!” One of you call out, pointing.  “A couple white wolves…”

     They blend in well with the snow but not well enough.  You all are able to make out the growling masses of muscle and hunger that stand between you and the entrance to the mine.

     “They’re not alone,” Jaylan says but before you can turn to try to make out what he means…

FROM EVERYONE:

1. DC 12 Strength Check for trudging through the snow or you take 1 level of exhaustion
2. Roll Initiative

Dabbert makes his way through the snow by shear determination and grit, cussing the whole way about how deep it is, how miserable it is, how cold his fu*kin' toes are, how he's not sure he can count to ten anymore because he thinks his fingers have died...

Then he hears the growling from the mine.  

"Oh uh...shit!"  He shout-whispers as he pulls his halberd free and readies himself.  "Krumar!  It's bound to be an owlbear!  They always go for the weakest first!  I'll write your folks when when we're done and tell them how valiantly you died!"  

And then the hulking menace charges them...except it's wolves, not an owlbear.  Dabbert almost looks disappointed.  

"Look alive!"  He shouts as someone points out that they are, in fact, white wolves, and that they're over there.  

Raevyn wasn't immune to the cold, nor the weight of the snow piling around her. However, the doctor was thankful for the insulated layers and protection from the wind. There does come a time when the cold numbs one enough on the outside that it feels like a humming sting, and the humidity of breath crystalizes everything it touches. This was a more preferred and manageable condition for the doctor, as opposed to the extreme, heat. While still battling her own discomfort, here she complains not. The latter would be a different story.

For focus, Raevyn hums along, mostly to herself, to Krumars tune, and trudges on, keeping a close eye on the others' conditions. The Doctor's never off the clock.

Strength Check: 4 + Guidance: 2

At Jaylan's warning, Raevyn straightens up. Her eyes scan each of her companions to assess their condition. Some, if not most, perhaps even including herself, may not have been able to complete their journey without at least some exhaustion. Eyes flick to the exposed predators before them. Jaylan also confirmed one of her suspicions. Wolfs travel and hunt in packs. There had to be more. There was opportunity for her to work smart here, not hard. Instead of reaching for any weapons, or considering her magics, the Doctor reaches into her bags for a vial containing muddy liquid, and some jerky from her rations, while her raven circles above from a better vantage point in hopes to be able to report any hidden additions to the pack.

(Items: Potion of Animal Friendship and Rations)
(Familiar: Munin - still in raven form)

Initiative: 3

"Maybe... we can..." Raevyn's breathing is labourous. "befriend... them..." She trails off. It was ambitious, but perhaps they could broker a deal with the pack.

Nefire trudges along in the cold and the snow.  She doesn't say much but admires how the snow dampens the sound around them.  She appreciates it but it also makes her wary that others will be able to sneak up upon them easier.

As they get to the mine, she is looking forward to getting out of the cutting wind, to explore inside the ramshackle building.  She smiles as the wolves make their appearance, and she pulls out her greataxe, "These beauts do not need silver to die.  Ooh, and think of the fresh meat!"  Then Raevyn speaks about friending them, and the smile diminishes.  She looks over her shoulder at Rae, "Seriously?" but it was enough to make her pause.

Strength check: 14

Initiative: 4

     Two white wolves in front of you, three behind... Nefire is readying her axe, Dabbert would rather be fighting owlbears and Raevyn wants everyone to just get along!

Initiative:  Dabbert (20) , Sylrieth (19) , Krumar (18) , Two Front Wolves (14) , Jaylan (12) , Three Back Wolves (10) , Nefire & Raevyn (4)

     Dabbert, Syl and Krumar are all up.  I estimated group positions so feel free to move an extra 10' the first round if you feel you would have been more in front or behind or whatever.  The mine entrance is probably bigger than shown but my map making skills are not A++.  

Dabbert hisses through his teeth when he realizes they're surrounded, then moves forward to attack the wolf on the left, striking with his halberd, darting in to attempt an attack with the butt of the weapon, then backing up ten feet, preparing himself to attack either of the beasts that moves toward him...

At the sight of the wolves Krumar runs directly north and hides in the trees. He watches Dabbert rush forward and attack the wolf and for a split second Krumar feels inspired to help Dabbert. He decides to poke his head out and mock the wolf Dabbert attacked. Krumar begins to insult the wolf "You are nothing more than a scaredy cat!" but became scared himself one they looked at him, so he quickly ducked back behind the tree (Wisdom Save 13 by wolf failed take 1 damage)