Perception Check: 21

As Leb and Artemis blink out of view, Haldur's eyes widen with outrage and fury and he slams his mailed fist into the portcullis. "Damn you!" The mercenary roars, his voice hoarse and filled with emotion. The warrior's expression is one of co-mingled anger and grief, but the Captain's wise words ring truer now then ever before. The clever soldier knows when to retreat from a fight that is lost, so that he may return to win the war. Haldur hangs his head for a moment, but through his gritted teeth he whispers "By Sune, by Chauntea, by Mystra and Mielikki, and by all the powers within and beneath the Celestial realms, there will be vengeance for this. I swear it."

Resigning himself to the inevitable course of action now, the mercenary reaches out to Father Pat's shoulder to offer a firm grip of understanding as well as to signal the Paladin that it was time to flee. Haldur then looks back toward Hrain for the signal, and he glances toward the rest of his companions to make sure they are accounted for and prepared for their flight into the relentless White Wastes.

Nicknack reaches up and squeezes Lyra's hand. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, before walking over to Father Pat and to Haldur. He stares up at each of them, pats them on the hand or the hip with a nod. He gives Father Pat back his length of rope and tucks his own away.

The gnome trembles a bit himself, not liking at all the feeling of emptiness, the sense of separation from the core of arcane power and understanding that made up his identity. The fingers of his other hand play over the hammered copper sheets of his spellbook, thankful above all things that he was able to recover that priceless tome before escaping.

The little wizard walks alongside the other broken-hearted prisoners. "We will survive."

All the emotions whirling around the party crystalize as the sounds of spell after spell hit what seems a barrier over the portcullis as Chromas Casters and even some now visible turncoat detainees hurl their energies as well as themselves at the magic iteration that is the Waste. The party still by the portcullis see two figure [spell]fly[/spell[ in the air only to drop like stones as their spell ends abruptly at the Waste barrier line just like the other spells did. Turning from the horror of possible being pursued the party looks out over the wintery wasteland. It's white. The landscape in front of you as you move away from the broken gates the words white and bleak come to mind. There is no change as far as the eye can see but for a lone rise, the peak of a mountain? The bay perhaps? Beyond that point no distinction between the land and the sky. It's all a blur of white. The air around you is cold bitterly cold. Nothing but white snow crunches underfoot nearly thread upon by your footprints alone disturbing it. The White Waste in full view is both awesome and terrifying. Some of you haven't been 'free' in decades and some its been a voluntarily sojourn from your life outside the walls of the compound. 

"By Sune, by Chauntea, by Mystra and Mielikki, and by all the powers within and beneath the Celestial realms, there will be vengeance for this. I swear it."  Haldur exclaims

Father Pat gives the portcullis one more kick in frustration and turns to Haldur saying in his thick Irish brogue “I’ve been on more battlefields than I can count” he says holding up his hands and Haldur can see that he is missing the top two joints of his left ring and little fingers, “and have always given my all. After all that is all somebody, God, Emperor, Officer – it doesn’t matter who – can ask of a solider; more importantly it is all that you can ask of yourself. Today we gave our best, but out best wasn’t good enough. But you're right kid, something funny is going on here and we will get to the bottom of it!”

He then packs up his rope and joins the party.

"There will be time for answers and payback later, now it is time to put distance between us and this broken place." Hrain adjusts cloak and helm, his voice terse. "And there will be such vengeance that it may shake the world if I have my way." The anger cannot mask the sadness as the young paladin strides away onto the wastes "Maintain concentration, these lands are dangerous and unless snow falls heavily enough soon we will be leaving a trail should they manage to follow us." 

Father Pat mutters to anyone who would listen "as if I didn't know how to operate in hostile terrain!" To Hrain he says "sir, yes sir, I'll bring up the rear sir" as he positions himself at the rear of the party constantly scanning the environment on either side of the party as well as to the rear (Perception roll: 17)

"Not all of us have your long history of military training, we are not a veteran unit who have served together for years, three days ago half the people here were prisoners of the other half of the people here, I think we can be forgiven for checking we understand a situation before an error causes us loss." The captain does not slow or turn as he delivers his reply to his fellow paladin. 

(LoL - Good attempt at trying to put Father Pat in his place, Hrain has obviously got better hearing than Father Pat thought) 

All Pat sees is white, white as far as the eye can see!

OOC: What pace is the party moving and what direction?

OOC: I say steady pace. With the knowledge Folzi got from the book, he would suggest the best course of action from the book. We never did discuss any specifics what he learned about the local geography. 

OOC: we'll see the conseus! As for directions it's going to be a series of survival or INT rolls, which ever is higher, rolls with advantage thanks to you studying the book!

Survival 16

   With each step from the camp, Folzi's demeanor begins to relax. Once they reach a safe distance he stops and glances around. "This is the way we need to go, I do believe." He adjusts his pack and begins to lead the group to what he hopes is relative safety. "That library in your garrison came in handy, Captian," he calls back to Hrain. 

Father Pat looks around "miserable bloody place" he says to no one in particular as he contemplates their chance of survival in this endless White Waste (Survival Roll - 10). About 50/50 he calculates.

Folzi judges from the map it will take two days to get to a White Waste mining area marked on the map that could or could not be abandoned. It's known for the quarry that older magic resistance structures were made out of and beyond the mine another two days to Winter's Bay. There you hope you can find passage off the island and get to a port further south. 

OOC: Vague map known to ALL. Folzi's is much more detailed! (BUT I haven't made it yet).

After a solid steady pace the party realizes they are not being pursued. It's late afternoon now and the sun is quickly sinking in the distance. Traveling in the dark seems a mistake but the party is only two hours away from ths compound that's barely visibly in the distance behind them.

Whilst walking, Lyra has shown a rather drastic change in behaviour. Following their escape and the shock of losing one of her companions, she has now become very quiet. Her motions are stiff and calculated. In contradiction to her former self that might've laughed a little too much and at inappropiate times, she is now very taciturn, her eyes always going straight. She might even appear to be isolating herself a little, as she is walking rather one step behind and aside from the others. And she has, in fact, not spoken a single word since the group fled from the campside.

Everyone roll me a perception. 

Metagaming pigeon says "Plenty of opportunity to find out if anyone's injured" coo-coo

Haldur trudges forward with the steady, solid fortitude of a professional soldier; his gaze forward but every now and then turning from side to side to scan the barren white wasteland for any indications of life. The mercenary is bundled in the heavy winter garb obtained at the Mystran garrison, face and hands and exposed skin wrapped carefully in heavy cloth and fur, and he is holding his halberd much like a walking staff. The cold air is like a living entity however, writhing and penetrating through the layers of protection to infiltrate the warm blooded bodies and steal their vigor. In addition to keeping an eye on the horizon surrounding them Haldur also glances at each of his fellow survivors from time to time to make sure that they seem to be holding up on the unforgiving march, but spirits seem low and there is a somber air that seems to hang like a pall across the party. The young warrior sighs behind his cowl and grits his teeth against the cold, resolutely placing one boot after the other until a halt is called by the party's leaders.

Perception Check: 14

Father Pat says to Hrain "with respect Sir, some of us are tired and may be carrying injuries, so pushing on in the dark in terrain we are not familiar with, to a place we don't know, we don't know is safe is highly risky. I suggest we set up camp for the night here and continue in the morning. It will also give me the opportunity to assess any injuries the party members may be carrying."

At the same time as Father Pat is talking to Hrain he never ceases to scan the horizon (Perception check: 6) for anything out of the ordinary that may represent a danger.

"I agree, to push on is foolhardy, Pat, take some time with each of the party to make sure they are well, myself I carry no injury." Looking around the group the paladin takes charge "We will camp for the night, we will need to create as effective a barrier from the weather as possible. Folzi, I am glad the book was helpful when there is time I would know what you learnt, we should all know, should an accident befall any of us their knowledge cannot be allowed to go with them. One more thing, this land kills without mercy, if you feel it getting to you, tell someone quickly, we can help each other, but not if we suffer in silence."

Perception 10