Play Report: To Death, Frost, and Doom, Session 4
Characters Present
Aenwas - Level 1 Elf
Waylon J Smithers Jr - Level 2 Specialist
Hilt - Level 4 Fighter
The Events
Day 6 - Night
After leaving the mouth of the cave we set up camp under a cliff overhang to try and keep the worst of the persistent rain off of us. Given we were all cold and soaked through we decided to spend an extra watch resting that night so we could all warm up a bit. Things were already looking pretty dire, we didn't have enough wood to keep a fire going all night, meaning we would have to try and gather some in the dark. About an hour into the first night watch, our one remaining dog started getting restless and agitated, whining a bit. Waylon stuck his head out of the tent to have a look around, and after his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could see an unmoving silhouette atop the cliff. It looked almost like one of those totems we'd seen during the day, but there hadn't been one there earlier and we hadn't heard any hammering that would have indicated it being set up. Then we heard it.
"Your numbers dwindle. Your formation is preposterous. You can run and run but you will be caught. You have been running in the wrong direction. You are disoriented, disheveled. Why not just give in? Make it easier for everyone." The fucking skeletons were back, we'd been followed after all. Aenwas moved to get out of the tent, wanting to be less vulnerable, but as soon as he began stepping out there was a flash of steel and he was immediately brought to -2HP. Combat ensues.
The skeletons had the initiative in the first round, but thankfully Hilt managed to reverse one's attack and slammed it into the ground, pulling it part way into the tent. Waylon began trying to pull the bastard's legs off, while a bronze sword tore through the top of the tent, narrowly missing Waylon's head. Hilt tried to swing up at the attacker but had no success, and after having its legs broken the skeleton in the tent fell still. Silence fell upon the camp once more, the remaining skeletons had retreated. I really hate these guys.
Aenwas woke up 20 minutes later, appearing a few years older to the others than he had previously. Hilt took the next watch while the others rested. It's a long night, but the rain eventually subsided, Aenwas healed up and restored his warmth, and the light of sunrise seeped through the tent fabric.
Day 7
Early in the day, we set about gathering food and wood to restore our dwindling supplies. During his hunt, Waylon stumbled across what appeared to be some kind of bear graveyard, with large bones piled up neatly under the spruce trees, partially buried by snow. He tested some of the bones for strength, hoping for a potential weapon, but they cracked easily. He settled instead for bringing one of the bear skulls back to camp.
Towards noon we decided to get moving, having adequately restocked our supplies. We make for the town of St Gacis, planning to scout it out and see if there's anything we can safely salvage as we'd last heard it had been overrun by monsters. Moving through the forest, closer to the mountain, Aenwas could feel how dead the air was. No spirits dwell in it at all, and Pale Tooth Mountain was a looming monolith that emanated Chaos. While we traveled, dragging our belongings and wounded dog on the tent tarp, there was a rumble like thunder in the sky. Looking to the north we saw its source. Far in the distance, an enormous creature like a serpent coiled and wove through the peaks of the mountains. Its roar was the thunder we'd heard rumbling our chests, even at this distance. It was a pretty awe-inspiring sight.
By dusk St Gacis came into sight, the first thing we saw was an impressively large church for such a small town, but then we saw the burned-out buildings. The place was a ruin. There was little in the way of shelter or salvage to be found here, but the church was in good enough shape that we decided to pitch our camp within its walls. Scratched into the interior walls of the church were various symbols, some the symbol of Varchic, but others were the symbol we'd seen around our camp a few nights previous when we'd first fought the skeletons. Hilt decided to hang her silver holy symbol of Varchic over the door to the church, hoping it would offer some protection.
Aenwas was still hurt, and so rested for the night. Hilt took the first watch of the night, during which the wind howled outside the walls and sleet fell through the ruined roof. In the distance she could hear the flapping of wings, larger than those of a bird or bat, and at least 2 pairs of them. As she listened more closely, it sounded like the flapping was getting more distant and heading south. She eventually woke Waylon for his watch, which passed uneventfully.
Day 8
The weather took a turn for the worst on this day. The wind howled and hail fell viciously from the sky, obscuring our vision. Early in the day we set about hunting and gathering more firewood ready for our journey up the mountain. Waylon had great luck, finding some dwarf-sized creatures with bat-like wings and vertical mouths on their torsos. They were easily killed and harvested for food, at which point I had the horrible thought that these may have been the young of whatever Hilt heard during the night. This may quite literally come back to bite us. Aenwas focused on gathering extra firewood as I was concerned about the cold getting harsher on the mountain, requiring more frequent stops to warm up.
There was some back-and-forth about whether to proceed up the mountain today due to the storm. I raised concerns about getting lost with how bad our visibility was, but we decided as a group to push on with our goal so close. This actually did come back to bite us. Very quickly.
The wind and hail were fierce and we could barely see more than a few feet ahead of us. The overwhelming Chaos from the mountain did help to guide us a bit, but soon realised it wasn't enough; everything around was dead and stagnant. Aenwas had already dropped back down into frostbite territory and the storm showed no signs of letting up. Suddenly there was a creak and sound of shattering from up ahead of us, beyond our sight. We took this as sign to stop and rest for a bit, rather than push forward towards whatever that noise was.We tried to set up the tent, but the wind ripped the tarp from our hands and it disappeared into the storm. Fuck.
We took what shelter we could against some of the spruce trees, huddling together for warmth, regretting our decision to not just stay in St Gacis to wait out the storm. After an hour or so, we did have one minor stroke of luck in all this frosty misery. We could hear the sound of rippling and flapping just above us, the tent tarp had ended up caught in the branches of the tree some 20' above us. Given he was the only one possessed of two functional arms and hands, Aenwas climbed up the tree and retrieved the tarp. This was difficult though, given the frostbite that was setting in, and it was hard to tell if his hands were open or closed at any given time.
We tied the tent tarp to the tree and secured it with pitons in the ground. There was still an exposed side, but it was something at least. We just barely managed to get a fire going in the stove and get it set up in our makeshift shelter. Night fell, and Hilt took the first watch, while Waylon slept and Aenwas was stuffed into a sleeping bag along with the dog beside the stove, trying desperately to stay warm. During Hilt's watch she heard a voice nearby, mixed in with the wind. A scream that sounded like a siren rising and falling, which eventually passed. Thankfully, there were no more disturbances that night.
Day 9
The storm rages on, showing no signs of passing. This time, we stay put. No-one had lost any more warmth thanks to our setup, but neither had we regained any, leaving Aenwas in dangerous territory. Hilt and Waylon spent some time shoveling snow up against the exposed side of our shelter in an attempt to make a wind break. During this time Aenwas remained in the sleeping bag with the dog but gave Hilt his warm clothing while she worked. We all think of food and warm things, and joke about the bat things coming to take us away. Where it is, it must be warmer than here!
Hilt and Waylon managed to recover a bit of warmth, but no such luck for Aenwas. Later in the day, Hilt decided to go outside and try to gather some firewood, but first tied herself to the tree to avoid getting lost. After Hilt returned, Waylon did the same, and saw the source of the strange creaking and shattering we'd heard the day before. Trees were exploding in icy shards from within. Cue intrusive thoughts about the tree we're currently taking shelter beside.
Over the rest of the day Waylon and Hilt recovered more warmth, but Aenwas' frostbite refused to pass. Blessedly, he didn't get any worse. For the first watch of the night, Aenwas insisted on taking watch, wanting to contribute in some small way to the group. The night thankfully passed with no further issues.
Day 10
By morning the hail had stopped, but the wind and snow were still rough. The decision was made to push on now our visibility was better. We knew we couldn't wait forever, particularly with the risk of the trees we used for shelter exploding at any moment. A short time into our journey, the treeline thinned and the snow began to ease, improving visibility. We saw the remains of a torn down tent made of leathers and hides. Amidst the mess there were nearly a dozen bodies, naked and badly damaged with bones poking out of frostbitten skin. The bodies were moving however, picking through the wreckage as though searching. Aenwas could feel a powerful presence of Chaos here, but it was impossible to tell if it was these things, Hilt, or the mountain. We skirted around the figures quietly, successfully avoiding drawing their attention. As we got some distance we one of them raise a pair of boots over its head and let out a shout. We moved on.
Our luck turned for the better as we proceeded up the mountain, as we found ourselves on a path that avoided many of the pitfalls and cliffs we would otherwise have had to navigate. Mid afternoon, we crested a ridge, beyond which the ground descended. All was quiet here, utterly silent. To Aenwas it felt deeply wrong and he was overcome with the sense that we should never have come here. The feeling was so strong that even Hilt and Waylon could feel it. At the bottom of this crevice was a graveyard of numerous headstones scattered in a mess. It looked almost like a garden patch that someone had trampled through; the earth was ravaged and nothing stood upright. Amidst the mess stood a tree so old and gangly that it resembled a vulture more than a tree. And towards the end of the crevice stood a small well and a log cabin, large enough to have 4 rooms at most. The colour of it was wrong, grey and lifeless rather than the warm brown of worked wood, the tree was much the same. Everything in this place felt deeply wrong.
It would seem that we have arrived.
Closing Thoughts
I feel like I say this in most of my play reports for this game but my god this was a harrowing session! The gang is just getting more and more worn down; we've barely survived the journey to the mountain, we still have to carry out our task of sealing away an ancient death cult and get home in one piece. Even with the game being as challenging and harrowing as it is, I'm loving every second of it. It's so atmospheric, and there are incredible moments of wonder and weirdness in every session. Seeing that enormous thunder serpent was a really awe-inspiring moment, and I think all of us said some variation of "if we survive this I want to go check that out." Now that we've arrived at the mountain I can't wait to see how this all unfolds and how royally fucked we are.
Until next time folks, take care!