As the cold envelopes the land, Frostbite looks around at all his companions. For the first time noticing the spectral figures protecting them. The Dragonborn's eyes return to their original blue and the figure's nod, fade and blow away in the blizzard. Coming out of his rage he steps over the body of the fallen warrior to see if the Rune-keeper was ok and if the elf girl needed assistance. "Is he OK."
Looking over to the Dragon he holds a finger up for it to wait one second as he knew that it would not hang around for long but he meant to talk to it before it left. The well being of the wizard was his first priority right now. There was not much he could do but as long as he was still alive he could thank him for the help.
As the adrenaline that comes with combat concludes, Torke takes a moment to compose his focus from an unusual sense of guilt stemming from Angvald's death, and eventually shrugging it away. He seems to be bothered by the change of weather, but decides not to weigh on it much, showing only quick glances to the Dragon and the injured Runekeeper before settling on removing the warrior's armor from its lifeless wearer, trying to deem if he can understand its properties or at atleast recognize the armor it is made from. Either way, he calls toward the Human Sam, "Sam? This armor may be useful if it is within your capability to resize it for able-use," Torke raises his voice enough to still keep its cold tone while being audible enough that Sam may hear clearly from his presumed distance.
Sam makes his way back to the group carrying the lance. He's able to wield it confidently with his strength, but hasn't practiced much with lances before, so he attempts to simply hold it steady. He holds it up slightly when he gets back as if to casually say found this.
"Hm, I may be able to resize it. I've worked on armor quite a bit." He leans down with Torke to examine it, and runs his figures over the breastplate. "This is nice work. We shouldn't let this go to waste."
He extends the lance to give Torke a closer look. "Ever use one of these? It's heavy. Powerful. Shouldn't let this go to waste either."
"While I do have some experience with throwing weapons,"Torke tilts his neck in the direction of his now sheathed longsword, "I believe I will not be needing a weapon like that—well, unless if no one in our party finds it to useful," his head shifts toward the Dragonborn FrostBite, looking as though his eyes and expression are looking for knowledge. "Dragonborn—Frostbite, yes? It looks like you know more than we do of that encounter, so care to explain?" Torke's tone does not falter as he speaks, clear in pitch and speech to make sure that FrostBite is able to hear it.
...before settling on removing the warrior's armor from its lifeless wearer...
Torke is unable to remove the armor, it feels physically attached to Angvald as if seared to his flesh. The closer you get, however, you notice that the armor is dragon scale, specifically white dragon scale. Sam noticed this as well as Torke called his attention to it.
Prosinet sees that Mr. Wilcox is alright, having regained his composure. He is, however, significantly depressed as he looks over at Angvald.
"You know Prosinet, if you never dream, you never really live. But if you live in dreams, you won't live long."
He shakes his head with his eyes closed,
"Stupid bastard, he could have walked away."
He shakes his head and stands.
Frostbite sees the Blue elf casting some kind of magic that emits a blue mist from her hands. It surrounds the impact site and forces itself inside. Like an icy spider web, it pour forth from the middle then slowly back towards the center, sealing it. The Rune Keepers breath grows steadier, and the elf girl touches her forehead to his.
Frostbite looks relieved once he sees the wizard breathing again. He pats the Elf on the shoulder then moves over to the rest to answer Torke's question.
"I was going to ask you the same question. This here is Rune Keeper R'lyeh he has had visions of Torke and I standing on top of the mountain we are heading for. The one in our dreams is real and I have placed my hand upon it. It beats with life. The storm took me by surprise and I almost died. If not for the dragon there I would have perished. I believe the rune keeper had something to do with it coming to my rescue but I have not had a chance to talk to him since I left his tower. The dragon brought me here. I heard a blast and I saw Wilcox in trouble. Before you could tell me what was happening the wizard appeared and once again saved our lives. This time I no longer needed to be the passenger in fate. I could deal my own blows so I attacked."
FrostBite looks back towards the dragon. "Give me a moment I don't think my young friend will hang around much longer." the Dragonborn will leave you to think over what he just said and talk to the Dragon in Draconic. "My thanks once more for the assistance in saving the wizard. You are truly powerful and am glad you decided to align with us for this short time. Do you know who or what this mountain of a man was?"
"We are the last in the land. Last of our kind. This is where we are from, but not anymore."
She scowls at Angvald, and continues,
"He is responsible for this. It started with him killing the cruelest of us, then the largest, and eventually all. Levethix hide us, in the ball, waited for help and then you came."
The elf hugs you, and starts crying. You are reminded from her eyes on the mountain, though a gargantuan beast, and clearly a master magician, she's still very young for her kind.
Sam,
Yep, just feels like its attached to him like skin. You're literally going to have to peel it off of him, but Sam can tell with 100% certainty that this is whiteDragon Scale Mail and that it is properly attuned to him, hence you not being able to remove it. As a blacksmith, you've heard legends that this type of armor is only attuned in two methods, by absolute generosity or absolute force, and White dragons are not known to be very giving.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Torke Aldrehas
He uses the moment to process the influx of knowledge: a vision of presumably the future;the dragon coming to save FrostBite, and the Runekeeper — though what does strike him as most important is the vision. Torke still could vaguely remember its existence in his dream, and the immense yet ominous presence that accompanied the mountain, a truly interesting thought, though it probably weights nothing until he is able to experience it for himself.
Whilst he stands there idle, compacting the knowledge into his mind, he hears a familiar tongue that he recognizes from the time he spent in his homeland, raising an eye as he slightly moves his head to FrostBite's direction, now seeming to eavesdrop on their conversation. Hearing an important bit of knowledge from the dragon, the remaining scrap of pity he had for the mountainous man had dissolved. Deeming that to be enough, he walks his way to both the Forest Gnome Prosinet and Mr. Wilcox, "What were you planning to do with—Sam, the Forest Gnome, and I with this large warrior? Your attempt to stop or persuade it failed, but I still want to know what drove you to try in the first place."he says while facing his attention to Mr. Wilcox while his eyes try to understand any emotions via body language regardless if he replies or not.
FrostBite will look back at the prone body and continue in Draconic. "He is no longer a threat and any that follow in his footsteps will fall to the same fate."He is shocked to realize that the Dragon had been contained in the ball. A horrific look comes to him as he remembers that he was originally going to crush the ball in the wizard's tower. He hugs the Elf back not sure of the reason but understanding she was upset. "He is going to be fine. You said so yourself."
Before walking with the Elf back to the group he will address the dragon one more time. "Where will you go now. I assume you have no need to return to the ball. Will our paths cross in the future?"
The elf tells Frostbite that she intends to leave this place once again, and go to the land of eternal winter. This is something of a local\regional myth for wherever Frost dragons go when they get too old and large to continue living near other living beings without being killed or killing everything off. It is in the same vein as an old dog running away, after it had never done so before.
There is no place for her here, and she doesn't want to hide anymore.
With that, she steps away and breathes the heavy mists again that swirl around her like a storm. Harder and harder it blew until in a flash and pop of excitement and thunder, the dragon leaped from the ground into the air, and took to the clouds once again, flying off not towards either the mountain or forest, but up the river, towards the direction of the rising moon.
Watching the great beast take to the skies, Wilcox fills with a sense of wonder, and he is able to stable himself enough to speak,
"The dragons had become a problem. There's no denying that. I was false when I said I didn't know what changed the weather. The glacial wyrm that lived on that peak over a hundred years ago had a brood that would come to villages and eat the entire community. They had it to the point where not only was it cold, but barren, and this place was to be so much more. At first, we hired Angvald to stop them."
He looks to your puzzled face at the "we" comment and responds,
"Yes, we. The wizards and myself hired Angvald to come stop them, cull the herd if you will. He did. And then he wouldn't stop. He became entrenched in this fantasy of "Angvald the Dragon Slayer" "Angvald the Winter's End" and we told him that eventually it would come to a head."
He looks over at the warrior with mirth,
"He could have had anything he wanted in exchange for this "legacy". A custom built legendary weapon. Mythical potions that could grant him long life if he lived peacefully. A god damned life sized statue of himself slaying a dragon!"
"Well, his hubris looks like it's our gain," Sam says as he tears a piece of the armor off his body. He holds it up to Mr. Wilcox and then gestures down to the lance as well. "Can you...or do you know anyone that can help with this stuff?"
He points at the dragon far FAR off in the distance. A mere speck on a moonlit night sky. He then motions to Frostbite,
"He is in possession of the Dragon's favor. He may use it as he wishes. What he does with that favor will determine the outcome of its usage."
Frostbite...
You are aware of an extremely familiar marble sized object in your pocket.
"One of its abilities is to attune objects of great magical power to its specific magical aura. In this case, that of a young white dragon."
As Sam pulls the armor off, if\when he holds it facing Frostbite, the armor gleams a brilliant white, the same way that it did when Angvald ran through a blizzard. It feels feather light in your hands, and immediately losses both qualities when you move it away.
Wilcox looks over to the Rune Keeper, and suggests he be moved to the tower so they can assist him medically. The wizard is sure to have Healing Draughts of many kinds, as well as much research on other things of grand arcane importance. At least it wouldn't be a boring trip, even if its as simple as brewing a potion and sleeping the evening away.
He waits for you all to respond this time, in relative patience. He's just kind of standing on the bridge edge looking at the moon and water. A sense of melancholy about him. He breathes out.
He waves a hand without uttering a word or turning around, and Angvald's skinned and armor-less body floats twenty feet in the air. Wilcox points forward and a slight gust blows his weightless body over the bridge edge. He closes his fist and the spell carrying him ends. A crash into the water, and the once brilliant blue is stained purple and then deep red as he floats away, down river, in the opposite direction of the dragon.
OOC: So I'm clear, the armor is only glowing when near FrostBite, right? If so...
Sam holds out the armor, seeing it glow. He pulls it back, thrusts it forward, pulls it back... "I think you should hang onto this," he says, extending it to FrostBite. "I can help resize it if you'd like."
Torke is intently glaring at the dragon slayers' corpse as this information seeps into his mind palace, giving more answers, yet leaving a bitter taste of a conclusion. It seems as his painted expression recognizes a new possible location to explore to be important and perhaps exciting as per usual from a part of his personality pleading him to go. He shakes his head for a moment to focus, turning his eyes' attention to Dragonborn Frostbite and Sam to reply to Sam's sentence, "Is there irony in those words? Dragonborn Frostbite had saved a dragon, yet can now wear one of its deceased kin? I would say this is near-cannibalism, but I cannot say any better for my race." Torke's voice seems to have made an attempt to be humorous, yet it tapered off before most of his words had been said; he stares at the patches of snake-scales from his shoulder to a couple of meters shy from his swamp-lurker gloves.
Realizing he idles and wastes Mr. Wilcox's time , he walks toward Mr. Wilcox and only gives a slightly visible nod of his head to represent his agreeing to their next destination, looking to his companions still idling on the bridge and then his eyes settle on the bloodied waters of the river, his eyes look disheartened at the sight of the once pure form of nature tainted by blood flowing from a prideful dragon-slayer, slayed in the presence of his "prey" and reduced to a corpse and now drifts away from view.
Wilcox understands where Torke was coming from. Yes, it was technically armor made of his fallen kin, but what better reverence? To have your killer slain and the armor it made from your body passed to your true descendants.
Not ideally, but if you were a pig and made into bacon, would it be better if you fed your family or the farmer?
At any rate, he doesn't respond, he's aware that he's not the best when it comes to emotionally sensitive subjects. Hell, moments earlier he tried to sate a genocidal maniac by paying him. Even if it had worked, what if Angvald DID want a masterpiece of a statue from Frostbite? What would Wilcox have said or done? Would he have let Frostbite do it? Would he warn him?
Questions for another time, for this moment, they all know who Angvald was now, and he's dead.
Wilcox's head lowers as he starts walking off in the direction of the Wizard's tower. He knows you all can move the Rune Keeper, and Frostbite knows where its at.
FrostBite waves the dragon off and heads back towards the Rune Keeper. Hearing the explanation of what Angvald had done he just lowers his head. "Yes, many men have fallen prey to the glory of battle. Once a name is earned then you have to forever prove you are still as the name implies. He would never be satisfied with a statue, only the killing of Dragons till they are no more. Statues can be made when you are dead. That is no longer an issue and I will tear down any statue made in his name."
As Sam holds the armor up towards him Frostbite lifts an arm up against the light. "Stop pointing that at me." Heading over he will look over the armor to determine the type of armor it is. "Hold onto it for now while we make our way to the tower. I will carry the wizard."
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As the cold envelopes the land, Frostbite looks around at all his companions. For the first time noticing the spectral figures protecting them. The Dragonborn's eyes return to their original blue and the figure's nod, fade and blow away in the blizzard. Coming out of his rage he steps over the body of the fallen warrior to see if the Rune-keeper was ok and if the elf girl needed assistance. "Is he OK."
Looking over to the Dragon he holds a finger up for it to wait one second as he knew that it would not hang around for long but he meant to talk to it before it left. The well being of the wizard was his first priority right now. There was not much he could do but as long as he was still alive he could thank him for the help.
Torke Aldrehas
As the adrenaline that comes with combat concludes, Torke takes a moment to compose his focus from an unusual sense of guilt stemming from Angvald's death, and eventually shrugging it away. He seems to be bothered by the change of weather, but decides not to weigh on it much, showing only quick glances to the Dragon and the injured Runekeeper before settling on removing the warrior's armor from its lifeless wearer, trying to deem if he can understand its properties or at atleast recognize the armor it is made from. Either way, he calls toward the Human Sam, "Sam? This armor may be useful if it is within your capability to resize it for able-use," Torke raises his voice enough to still keep its cold tone while being audible enough that Sam may hear clearly from his presumed distance.
Prosinet simply looks around wild eye'd for a moment. Then proceeds over to see of Wilcox is okay.
Trumann Bloth | Loxodon Grave Cleric | War of the Green
Prosinet Fizzlepurtet | Gnome Wizard | The Wilcox Experiment
Sam makes his way back to the group carrying the lance. He's able to wield it confidently with his strength, but hasn't practiced much with lances before, so he attempts to simply hold it steady. He holds it up slightly when he gets back as if to casually say found this.
"Hm, I may be able to resize it. I've worked on armor quite a bit." He leans down with Torke to examine it, and runs his figures over the breastplate. "This is nice work. We shouldn't let this go to waste."
He extends the lance to give Torke a closer look. "Ever use one of these? It's heavy. Powerful. Shouldn't let this go to waste either."
DM - Above & Below
Torke Aldrehas
"While I do have some experience with throwing weapons," Torke tilts his neck in the direction of his now sheathed longsword, "I believe I will not be needing a weapon like that—well, unless if no one in our party finds it to useful," his head shifts toward the Dragonborn FrostBite, looking as though his eyes and expression are looking for knowledge. "Dragonborn—Frostbite, yes? It looks like you know more than we do of that encounter, so care to explain?" Torke's tone does not falter as he speaks, clear in pitch and speech to make sure that FrostBite is able to hear it.
Torke is unable to remove the armor, it feels physically attached to Angvald as if seared to his flesh. The closer you get, however, you notice that the armor is dragon scale, specifically white dragon scale. Sam noticed this as well as Torke called his attention to it.
Prosinet sees that Mr. Wilcox is alright, having regained his composure. He is, however, significantly depressed as he looks over at Angvald.
"You know Prosinet, if you never dream, you never really live. But if you live in dreams, you won't live long."
He shakes his head with his eyes closed,
"Stupid bastard, he could have walked away."
He shakes his head and stands.
Frostbite sees the Blue elf casting some kind of magic that emits a blue mist from her hands. It surrounds the impact site and forces itself inside. Like an icy spider web, it pour forth from the middle then slowly back towards the center, sealing it. The Rune Keepers breath grows steadier, and the elf girl touches her forehead to his.
Frostbite looks relieved once he sees the wizard breathing again. He pats the Elf on the shoulder then moves over to the rest to answer Torke's question.
"I was going to ask you the same question. This here is Rune Keeper R'lyeh he has had visions of Torke and I standing on top of the mountain we are heading for. The one in our dreams is real and I have placed my hand upon it. It beats with life. The storm took me by surprise and I almost died. If not for the dragon there I would have perished. I believe the rune keeper had something to do with it coming to my rescue but I have not had a chance to talk to him since I left his tower. The dragon brought me here. I heard a blast and I saw Wilcox in trouble. Before you could tell me what was happening the wizard appeared and once again saved our lives. This time I no longer needed to be the passenger in fate. I could deal my own blows so I attacked."
FrostBite looks back towards the dragon. "Give me a moment I don't think my young friend will hang around much longer." the Dragonborn will leave you to think over what he just said and talk to the Dragon in Draconic. "My thanks once more for the assistance in saving the wizard. You are truly powerful and am glad you decided to align with us for this short time. Do you know who or what this mountain of a man was?"
Does Sam see anyway he can get the armor off? Even if it's cutting it off? :)
DM - Above & Below
Frostbite,
It speaks back to you in Draconic,
"We are the last in the land. Last of our kind. This is where we are from, but not anymore."
She scowls at Angvald, and continues,
"He is responsible for this. It started with him killing the cruelest of us, then the largest, and eventually all. Levethix hide us, in the ball, waited for help and then you came."
The elf hugs you, and starts crying. You are reminded from her eyes on the mountain, though a gargantuan beast, and clearly a master magician, she's still very young for her kind.
Sam,
Yep, just feels like its attached to him like skin. You're literally going to have to peel it off of him, but Sam can tell with 100% certainty that this is white Dragon Scale Mail and that it is properly attuned to him, hence you not being able to remove it. As a blacksmith, you've heard legends that this type of armor is only attuned in two methods, by absolute generosity or absolute force, and White dragons are not known to be very giving.
Torke Aldrehas
He uses the moment to process the influx of knowledge: a vision of presumably the future;the dragon coming to save FrostBite, and the Runekeeper — though what does strike him as most important is the vision. Torke still could vaguely remember its existence in his dream, and the immense yet ominous presence that accompanied the mountain, a truly interesting thought, though it probably weights nothing until he is able to experience it for himself.
Whilst he stands there idle, compacting the knowledge into his mind, he hears a familiar tongue that he recognizes from the time he spent in his homeland, raising an eye as he slightly moves his head to FrostBite's direction, now seeming to eavesdrop on their conversation. Hearing an important bit of knowledge from the dragon, the remaining scrap of pity he had for the mountainous man had dissolved. Deeming that to be enough, he walks his way to both the Forest Gnome Prosinet and Mr. Wilcox, "What were you planning to do with—Sam, the Forest Gnome, and I with this large warrior? Your attempt to stop or persuade it failed, but I still want to know what drove you to try in the first place." he says while facing his attention to Mr. Wilcox while his eyes try to understand any emotions via body language regardless if he replies or not.
Insight: roll value- 10
FrostBite will look back at the prone body and continue in Draconic. "He is no longer a threat and any that follow in his footsteps will fall to the same fate." He is shocked to realize that the Dragon had been contained in the ball. A horrific look comes to him as he remembers that he was originally going to crush the ball in the wizard's tower. He hugs the Elf back not sure of the reason but understanding she was upset. "He is going to be fine. You said so yourself."
Before walking with the Elf back to the group he will address the dragon one more time. "Where will you go now. I assume you have no need to return to the ball. Will our paths cross in the future?"
The elf tells Frostbite that she intends to leave this place once again, and go to the land of eternal winter. This is something of a local\regional myth for wherever Frost dragons go when they get too old and large to continue living near other living beings without being killed or killing everything off. It is in the same vein as an old dog running away, after it had never done so before.
There is no place for her here, and she doesn't want to hide anymore.
With that, she steps away and breathes the heavy mists again that swirl around her like a storm. Harder and harder it blew until in a flash and pop of excitement and thunder, the dragon leaped from the ground into the air, and took to the clouds once again, flying off not towards either the mountain or forest, but up the river, towards the direction of the rising moon.
Watching the great beast take to the skies, Wilcox fills with a sense of wonder, and he is able to stable himself enough to speak,
"The dragons had become a problem. There's no denying that. I was false when I said I didn't know what changed the weather. The glacial wyrm that lived on that peak over a hundred years ago had a brood that would come to villages and eat the entire community. They had it to the point where not only was it cold, but barren, and this place was to be so much more. At first, we hired Angvald to stop them."
He looks to your puzzled face at the "we" comment and responds,
"Yes, we. The wizards and myself hired Angvald to come stop them, cull the herd if you will. He did. And then he wouldn't stop. He became entrenched in this fantasy of "Angvald the Dragon Slayer" "Angvald the Winter's End" and we told him that eventually it would come to a head."
He looks over at the warrior with mirth,
"He could have had anything he wanted in exchange for this "legacy". A custom built legendary weapon. Mythical potions that could grant him long life if he lived peacefully. A god damned life sized statue of himself slaying a dragon!"
He throws his hands up in the air,
"Damn fool."
"Well, his hubris looks like it's our gain," Sam says as he tears a piece of the armor off his body. He holds it up to Mr. Wilcox and then gestures down to the lance as well. "Can you...or do you know anyone that can help with this stuff?"
DM - Above & Below
Wilcox chuckles a bit,
"Well, that might have been useful."
He points at the dragon far FAR off in the distance. A mere speck on a moonlit night sky. He then motions to Frostbite,
"He is in possession of the Dragon's favor. He may use it as he wishes. What he does with that favor will determine the outcome of its usage."
Frostbite...
You are aware of an extremely familiar marble sized object in your pocket.
"One of its abilities is to attune objects of great magical power to its specific magical aura. In this case, that of a young white dragon."
As Sam pulls the armor off, if\when he holds it facing Frostbite, the armor gleams a brilliant white, the same way that it did when Angvald ran through a blizzard. It feels feather light in your hands, and immediately losses both qualities when you move it away.
Wilcox looks over to the Rune Keeper, and suggests he be moved to the tower so they can assist him medically. The wizard is sure to have Healing Draughts of many kinds, as well as much research on other things of grand arcane importance. At least it wouldn't be a boring trip, even if its as simple as brewing a potion and sleeping the evening away.
He waits for you all to respond this time, in relative patience. He's just kind of standing on the bridge edge looking at the moon and water. A sense of melancholy about him. He breathes out.
He waves a hand without uttering a word or turning around, and Angvald's skinned and armor-less body floats twenty feet in the air. Wilcox points forward and a slight gust blows his weightless body over the bridge edge. He closes his fist and the spell carrying him ends. A crash into the water, and the once brilliant blue is stained purple and then deep red as he floats away, down river, in the opposite direction of the dragon.
"Damn fool."
OOC: So I'm clear, the armor is only glowing when near FrostBite, right? If so...
Sam holds out the armor, seeing it glow. He pulls it back, thrusts it forward, pulls it back... "I think you should hang onto this," he says, extending it to FrostBite. "I can help resize it if you'd like."
DM - Above & Below
OOC: The armor glows when aimed at him, whether you are 10 feet or 100 feet away
"Well I still have absolutely no idea what is going on... But the opportunity to brew some potions would be great!"
Trumann Bloth | Loxodon Grave Cleric | War of the Green
Prosinet Fizzlepurtet | Gnome Wizard | The Wilcox Experiment
Torke Aldrehas
Torke is intently glaring at the dragon slayers' corpse as this information seeps into his mind palace, giving more answers, yet leaving a bitter taste of a conclusion. It seems as his painted expression recognizes a new possible location to explore to be important and perhaps exciting as per usual from a part of his personality pleading him to go. He shakes his head for a moment to focus, turning his eyes' attention to Dragonborn Frostbite and Sam to reply to Sam's sentence, "Is there irony in those words? Dragonborn Frostbite had saved a dragon, yet can now wear one of its deceased kin? I would say this is near-cannibalism, but I cannot say any better for my race." Torke's voice seems to have made an attempt to be humorous, yet it tapered off before most of his words had been said; he stares at the patches of snake-scales from his shoulder to a couple of meters shy from his swamp-lurker gloves.
Realizing he idles and wastes Mr. Wilcox's time , he walks toward Mr. Wilcox and only gives a slightly visible nod of his head to represent his agreeing to their next destination, looking to his companions still idling on the bridge and then his eyes settle on the bloodied waters of the river, his eyes look disheartened at the sight of the once pure form of nature tainted by blood flowing from a prideful dragon-slayer, slayed in the presence of his "prey" and reduced to a corpse and now drifts away from view.
Wilcox understands where Torke was coming from. Yes, it was technically armor made of his fallen kin, but what better reverence? To have your killer slain and the armor it made from your body passed to your true descendants.
Not ideally, but if you were a pig and made into bacon, would it be better if you fed your family or the farmer?
At any rate, he doesn't respond, he's aware that he's not the best when it comes to emotionally sensitive subjects. Hell, moments earlier he tried to sate a genocidal maniac by paying him. Even if it had worked, what if Angvald DID want a masterpiece of a statue from Frostbite? What would Wilcox have said or done? Would he have let Frostbite do it? Would he warn him?
Questions for another time, for this moment, they all know who Angvald was now, and he's dead.
Wilcox's head lowers as he starts walking off in the direction of the Wizard's tower. He knows you all can move the Rune Keeper, and Frostbite knows where its at.
FrostBite waves the dragon off and heads back towards the Rune Keeper. Hearing the explanation of what Angvald had done he just lowers his head. "Yes, many men have fallen prey to the glory of battle. Once a name is earned then you have to forever prove you are still as the name implies. He would never be satisfied with a statue, only the killing of Dragons till they are no more. Statues can be made when you are dead. That is no longer an issue and I will tear down any statue made in his name."
As Sam holds the armor up towards him Frostbite lifts an arm up against the light. "Stop pointing that at me." Heading over he will look over the armor to determine the type of armor it is. "Hold onto it for now while we make our way to the tower. I will carry the wizard."