[ic] nameless III: lost and found

[doghead]

The storm

The wind howls and rages through the trees, hurling rain and sticks and leaves before it. Its difficult to move against the power of the storm, and those attempting to do so have to be careful or be knocked to the ground. Making a shelter proves to be impossible, the wind jerks and yanks at any branches or canvas in your hands and tears down anything you try to put up against it. The best you can manage is to huddle up in the lee of one of the larger trees.

ooc: Survival roll made.

The storm continues into the morning, although there is little sign of the break of day. A slight lessening of the darkness. A small increase in visibilty.

Above the party, the trees creak and groan ominously. But more worring is the wrenching "snap" that heralds another branch beening ripped from the canopy around you. One falls to the ground just yards away from where you are huddled.

After three hours the storm shows little sign of abating. Fenix, Fredar and Garival are all beginning to shiver as the wind and the wet sucks the heat from their bodies.

ooc: Fenix suffers 4 non-lethal damage in total (includes previus damage), Fredar suffers 6, Garival suffers 4.

 

[Seonaid]

Garival looks around the group fretfully, trying to find better shelter. "This isn't going to do," he mutters.

 

[khavren]

Fenix shivers and wraps his arms around himself, shouting to be heard over the storm he says "Maybe we should have accepted 'JG's invitation, this is positivly miserable. Think there are any caves around we could shelter in? If we must, I have a flask of alchemists fire we can use. I'd hoped to save it in case we ran into more of those orcs or some other danger. I also have a couple tindertwigs, but I we'd still need to shelter them from the wind and rain to get a fire going with them."

 

[Seonaid]

"I doubt we'd get a fire of any sort in this weather. I wonder if 'JG' is responsible for this storm," Garival shouts in reply.

 

[doghead]

Waiting it out.

The storm continues to rage for another couple of hours before it begins to show any sign of abating. You huddle close together, shiver and wait. Garival does what he can to help the others keep warm. Without his efforts things could have been much worse. But as they are, both he and Fredar are struggling to control their shivering. Even the stout Nate is beginning to feel the effects of the prolonged exposure towards the end.

An hour after that the winds have dropped somewhat and the rain have eased off enough that travelling is again possible. But the weather is still foul. The sky remains dull and grey and hangs low overhead. The rain continues to fall. Visibility is limited to a mile or so at the best. You can just make out through the gloom the edge of the dark forest to your north. The wind continues to tug at your clothes. No matter how tightly you pull your cloaks around you, it still seems to find ways to slip its cold fingers through to your skin. Its not enough to cause you any more harm, but you are not going to be able to shake off the effects of the storm until you can get dry and warm again.

There is no sign of the sun, but it is about mid-morning by your reaconing. Another day, a day and a half perhaps, until you reach the swamp.

ooc: Non-lethal damage: Fenix (4 total), Fredar (10 total; -1 to rolls), Gar (7 total, -1 to rolls), Nate (2 total).

 

[Seonaid]

Garival stands and wraps his clothing around him tightly. "We may as well continue moving. At least we'll keep warm if we move, and perhaps we can walk out of the storm." Though I doubt it, he adds to himself, looking at the sky. If the others agree, he'll start to break camp.

 

[khavren]

Fenix looks at the sky as well and says, "We should defnitly keep moving. If nothing else, we might find a better shelter than this one. If anyone thinks they have the strength to spare, we should probably take a couple of these pieces of wood, we might find someplace dry where we can have a lasting fire."

 

[doghead]

Through the rain

You break camp and set off.

You trudge on just south of west through the rain. Water drips from everything. It drips off your nose, your coat, your weapons. The ground squelches beneath your feet. The clouds show no sign of breaking up. The horizon remains fixed at about a mile or so away. The ground slopes gently upwards.

Occasionally shapes slowly emerge from the grey murk as you trudge on. Mostly they are trees. Sometimes solitary ones, sometimes in small copses like the one you sheltered in last night. Occasionally the shapes become rocks, or bushes.

After about two hours, a shape larger than the rest slowly emerges. Its a rocky outcrop, the size of several large buildings. As you get closer, you can see that tucked away at the base of the outcrop is a fairly sizable overhang. You pick your way through the boulders that litter the ground around the outcrop.

From a hundred feet away from the overhang you can see that the ground underneath is dry. Dusty even. There is no dripping water. There is enough space for half a dozen people. And in the centre of the floor there is the remains of a campfire.

 

[DrZombie]

"Allright. Let's get a fire started."

Nate drops the logs he's been carrying for the last couple of hours, and starts chopping. Quickly he splits a log into small, and above all, dry pieces, and patiently builds a fire.

 

[Seonaid]

Garival nods to Nate but then goes to search the dry area, looking for signs of recent or incipient occupation.