“It ain’t just orcs. I’m not fer knowin’ who hit this wagon, but it weren’t them goblins. They just came fer the leftovers. Some’ne else is on this road. Soundin’ like we got possible problems up ahead as well as behind. Best keep our noggins on swivels. If ye new folks are willin’, methinks stickin’ together is the best way te get to the end o’ the road in one piece.”

"Orcs too?" says Briar. "You can count me in. Between those, the goblins, and these unknown raiders there's trouble afoot."

He looks at the wagon and the oxen. "Need we leave it behind? Sure it might take all of us to push it. But what if we could rig a makeshift harness? If we're okay with leaving the cart behind then it's no loss if it gets damaged in the dragging. Might be someone in Phandalin that knows of this eagle mark."

“I’m afraid it’d slow us down too much. If the road ‘s as dangerous as it seems, we should travel light and move quickly as we can.”

Aelinn

She watched the joy flitter across Krikas' face, he liked the shirt. (That was how she saw his skillfully hidden ears, Half Elf) It suits you. I know you can get better in Neverwinter, but it's not too bad. She folded another and stashed it in her backpack a crimson splash of colour.

It was obvious that the wagon wasn't going anywhere, the harness was broken. She freed the ox, let it feed on the springtime cud. Only what they could carry. What a shame. She used an empty waterskin and poured the leftovers of the brandy into it. It had a rich deep flavour, now it was something to share in camp. She also stashed a cured ham. Better to be careful about fires if there were enemies ahead.

For the last time she gazed at the mark on the barrels, she was certain that she 'd seen it somewhere before in her smuggling days (investigation check 17)

Leaping down onto the road she asked Felmar  Slavers or mercenaries then? There are people missing, just the one in the copse, and definitely not bandits they would have taken the lot. The arrows look like human fletchings. (Perception check 13)

She moved to the front of the group flitting from cover to cover Keeping her eyes and ears open. The problem with snow is that it leaves traces of footprints. They could either follow the bootprints or head for the mine. Either way they'd pass a coaching inn or two on route hopefully, so much had changed from the last time she was here 30 years ago. All the humans that she knew were dead or in their dotage.

Felmar just shrugs at Arlin’s question.

“Not fer knowin’. But yet right. Common highwaymen woulda picked it clean. These folks were after somethin’ else, or some’ne else. What or who? Dumathoin only knows. But if we meet’em in the road, we will ask’em, don’t yet doubt.”

Aelinn

You're right Felmar, best to keep together and a watchful eye on the road. A fire might just draw them back towards us. I didn't see any Orcs as I travelled behind you. Doesn't mean that they are not there, more like they haven't found the scent.

The goods are piled upon the wagon, it sustained little damage in the tumult. The lower Oxen is retrieved, the harness broken but perhaps not beyond repair. With enough rope between you it could probably be made to work. Aelinn recognizes the 'Falcon' branded upon the wooden crates and barrels. A forester, about a days float up the Neverwinter river into the woods from the 'City', crafts such items from the trees, a mill creating the crates and barrels. The goods may or may not have come from there but the containers surely did. 

The Raiders took their prisoners up the hill, you are reluctant to call them Bandits, even Slavers would have taken the goods of value. Briar follows the blood splatters and boot prints, at least a dozen individuals towards the Oxen on the hill. The trail turns and disappears into the tree cover. Looking at the Oxen its harness well entangled but perhaps not a loss if it can be cut free.

Krikas notes something in the sky. Hidden before the sun, the glare and intensity burns his eyes as he tries to make it out. Only seen from the corner of his eye when he looks away it is impossible to make out what is there. Pointing it out to Aelinn, the sun hides its form but clearly something is there. It is diving from on high, but smart to keep its form hidden. The two of you turn your heads this way and that trying to determine just what it is. The form is not idly flying past, it is dropping, diving quickly, as it grows closer its form reveals itself. The size too large to be obscured forever by the glare.

A massive White Dragon drops from the sky, its talons outstretched like a bird of prey on the hunt. The great claws catch and scoop the oxen from the hill, the poor beast lets out a short strangled bleat. Briar, unaware up to the last second is knocked backed, tumbling over the ledge. The Dragon, its lunch in its claws swoops hard, the gust from its wings blowing snow into the air. The size of a house the beast soars back up into the sky, gaining height as it wings its way towards the South, towards the Sword mountains.

So much for the second Oxen, you stand stunned for a few moments, thankful you were not its intended meal.

The prisoners may yet be alive, the attack upon the wagon was only a few hours old, the trail remains fresh but not for long. The day yet threatens more snow. Your destination is, was Phandalin and a discourse with the Speaker Harbin Wester. The town is still a few hours journey from here but well within the remaining days time.

As the dragon flew across the area, Felmar dove into a roll and placed his shield over his body, waiting for an attack that didn’t come. Once the beast was out of sight, Felmar’s practical mind went back to the prisoners.

“We’re close te Phandalin now. If we hurry, we might be able te rescue the prisoners and get them back a’fore days end. I know it’s more fightin’ than we’re lookin’ fer, but these people need help. I doubt they’re headed te the mead hall fer a banquet.”

DM note- Dice rolls

When rolling for Investigation, perception or any other skill it is assumed you spend a few minutes to accomplish the task. You are doing it quickly, feeling constraints of time or the pressure of danger. If on the other hand you follow up the roll with a narrative stating something along the lines of

I take the time to properly inspect, or accomplish, or search for clues etc the dice roll simply determines the amount of time it takes.

To use the incident of Krikas searching the goblin and the body. The goblin he rolled investigation 18. He quickly searched taking a few minutes and felt satisfied with what he found.

The body he rolled a 1. He took a few moments and only glanced over the corpse. If the statement of "I take the time to' or some such had been used he may have spent an hour but still searched to his satisfaction.

Aelinn

She pulled Krikas down and swung her cloak over them both, the diving dragon isn't interested in rocks and her cloak made them seem such. They heard the Ox scream as the dragon chose larger prey. First time I've seen a dragon, how about you? They'd watched it pass overhead with an Ox in its claws.

Freeing the captives would be looked on with favour by Mask her God. We could at least recce the brigands and see what the situation is Felmar .Are there guards still at Phandalin? Should we go for reinforcements instead.

“I fear the loss o’ time reinforcements would take. The trail is fresh now. May not be by the time we get back with help. Besides, with that durned dragon about, I ain’t sure a large group clustered together is smart.”

Rusty's head swivels as he watches the dragon. Nothing else moves. At times, his lack of emotions — this time fear — is a glaring indication of his alien makeup. As the huge monster flies away with its meal, the wood and metal man turns to regard Aelinn. "Mine a-a-a-as well. The des-des-des-descriptions I have heard do it justice." He shifts his weight again, his legs rising and falling a couple of times. "And I-I-I-I agree with Felmar. We ha-ha-ha-have been sent to help, and help we should. Kill t-t-t-two birds in the bush."

Aelinn

I can't keep calling you warforged, what is your preferred name? Aelinn asked.

She turned to Felmar I'm willing to try to get nearer to them and find out their position. We need Briar as well, how is he after that tumble?

She pulled her hood up and adjusted her face mask. Stealth roll 23.

DM Note

Please keep your posts to only 1-3 per 24 hour period. Some of you may only be able to post once within that time. We don't want to have them feel left out, or left behind.

[[ Sorry for lack of detail/roleplay. Phone-posting so keeping it short & sweet. ]]

Briar is startled by the near miss with the dragon near the ox. But he concurs with Felmar on going,to see about freeing the captives.

The trail winds up the hill, marked by boot prints left by at least a dozen individuals, standing out distinctly against the pristine snow. Some prints seem to drag at times, suggesting weariness or struggle. However, what catches the eye most are the blood splatters—vivid red against the white canvas. One of the prisoners, wounded and bleeding heavily, left a trail of crimson. Yet, as the trail continues into the thicker wood, the blood tapers off to a few tiny spots, then disappears altogether. Whether this disappearance bodes well or ill remains a unknown

The woods grow thicker, enveloping you as the snow crunches underfoot. The air warms slightly as you trudge through the knee high drifts. Silence, and stillness resound all around, the forest holding its breath as you penetrate deeper into its embrace. Sticking to the established trail makes it easier going but also leaves you feeling exposed. Aelinn’s eyes flit from shadow to shadow for any hidden dangers. Krikas scans the horizon, at least as far as the thick stands of bare leaved oak trunks and cedar allow. The underbrush devoid of the early spring leaf, the bare twigs and thin branches weave in the air, creating motion in every direction.

Felmar carries Squelch, always within his hand, looking like he is about to crush a tree if something doesn't jump out and find its end soon. Faint clanking, wheezing, bubbling sounds and squeals echo loudly across the white sea, adding to the eerie backdrop.

The tracks lead into a cut in the ground, the walls of stone rising quickly, decorated by the growth of cascading ferns, the air is warmer within the confines of the thin canyon wall. Very quickly the thought of winter leaves your mind, the canyon cut across by a warm tributary of the mighty Neverwinter river. Thermals from the far distant Mount Hotenow warming the waters even this far south it would seem. The tracks turn and follow the warm creek forward, you stop as soon as you see the three caverns ahead. Still back a short ways, they appear quiet, with no guards posted that you can see.

Before you can even react or move away; A massive spider, the size of a horse bursts from the upper cave mouth, its carapace jet black reflecting the radiance of the sun. It scampers up the cliff face. Stopping briefly as it scans the canyon, then with a burst of speed and grace for such a large creature, it scurries up and over the canyon wall. Disappearing from sight.

Krikas 

"DRA...." is all Krikas can manage before he's swept under the protection of Aelinn's Cape. Composing himself once the wyrm has had its pick of the oxen buffet, he stands tall and tugs at his cuffs to straighten his new shirt. "Thank you Aelinn" he says quietly before, in a much louder voice, he states the obvious. "It's all clear! The threat has gone." He falls in line with the others as they head after the captives, albeit loudly complaining about how there's still an orc troop somewhere on their tail.

Upon seeing the grotto, Krikas stops and studies the path in, attempting to get accurate numbers on the size of the group that entered. With his head down he misses the spider completely only looking up when one of the others calls out. 

(No check, just an RP opportunity)

Aelinn

Spider! Aelinn called out. One of her pet hates, her tribe had always hunted them so that the children could play unhindered in the forest. She shivered, a slight phobia, small spiders were fine but the large ones ick. She looked carefully at the tracks and blood, trying to find which way they had gone. (Perception 18) The wrong path and the spider would be eating dinner. She tried to remember what type of spider it was, venomous or not.  (investigation natural 20 + 1)

She hoped that they'd have time to bathe later in the hot springs. This was an ideal place for a Wood Elf tribe. The warmth of the river made walking a pleasure. She needed a closer look at the caverns and moved ahead. (Stealth check 18 (1d20) +7 (stealth skill modifier) for total of 25) 

A dozen wet boot marks enter the grotto, sticking to the left edge they made their way, (Or were dragged bodily) into the lower cave. A constant rumble of water can be heard emanating from within, the ensuing stream, rushes from the opening, creating a hiss of fog as it hits the outer air. A curtain that obscures the interior beyond a couple feet. Above it another, slightly larger opening extends into the cliff face. This is were the spider came from. The faint outline of a wooden door is set back and secured to the stone walls. A coiled rope ladder dangles gently over the edge, promising an easy climb if you could reach its dangling end nearly 50' up.

From the upper cave mouth, 50' above the stream, a ledge runs to the right, a small flat area mostly hidden from the entrance to the grotto. A pair of Human males, talking and laughing quietly are tucked behind the cliff face above the dark cave opening. They are immersed in a game of chance, paying attention to their own hands rather than the grotto.

The dark cave mouth on the right seems quiet with a constant drip echoing ominously from within.

The gnome-made creation identifies himself as "Rusty". "It is-is-is-is what my last master named me," he admits in his usual monotone.

Trudging along the trail, twigs scrape and snap against his arms and legs. He is having to raise his legs higher than he ever has before to keep from falling forward. In all of his travels up and down the Coast, Rusty has never encountered such an underused track — one covered in such high snowfall. He and The Blade always stuck to the road, and the road was always beat down, even when they encountered snow, which wasn't often. Rusty wonders if this is going to affect his mechanics in any way. When the snow begins to thin under the captured heat of the canyon, Rusty moves more normally.

His furnace-like head rises at Aelinn's warning of the spider. He watches the creature dart out of sight. What an interesting creature. When one of the others makes silent motions indicating guards, the wood and metal man halts all movement until further instructions are given, knowing that the noise of his normal operations could give away their presence. A few of his buckets continue to move back and forth as they expend their stored up kinetic energy.