Winter Wolves

You stand just outside the druid's grove, a few worried druids standing before you. Their leader is a woman of some years, but her elvish heritage keeps her looking young. She has long silver hair bound in braids, and her companions are both human, much younger. You suspect that they are her apprentices from the way they naturally defer to her.

"We have found wolf tracks in the woods, which would not be that odd, but they are larger than those of any natural wolf, and we have found patches of frozen earth - which we should not see for some time now. This pack is hunting and killing everything it comes across, and we suspect that they've been unnaturally influenced in some way." The woman's voice is smooth and even, carrying none of her concern. "Many animals were tainted by the black pools that caused the recent plague and while they are gone now, the effects of the taint has not completely gone away. These wolves may be some such."

Brown as a berry, from leathers to braided hair to the pack she wears on her back, the slight and short Aimarra hasn't been seen in these parts for some time. She has said nothing of why, and now listens in silence to the druids' explanation, her trusty shortbow and quiver over her back and longsword at her hip. Her brow furrows at the mention of a plague, but she nods slowly. "You think they're tainted. It sounds as if they're intelligent, too."

Thurid is here, having received word that assistance was needed at the grove- Not a particularly naturalistically inclined individual, usually, Thurid is more than happy to lend a hand regardless. She'd made the trek up from the city, a rented pack mule by her side, and arrives at the grove ready for action- gleaming golden chainmail, with the scapular displaying the symbol of her faith worn proudly overtop. Her enormous hammer slung over one shoulder.

"'fraid to say I know little and less about animals and their hunting habits." she replies. "But I know a thing or two about plagues, and at the very least, I can lend you my hammer and my prayers." she offers thumping her chest. "But, I'm not like to be much use in tracking them down."

As a large form of adamantine plates and laminated support framework, the construct blends into the surroundings with all the subtlety of a stone tower on open grasslands. MAC's arrival here was only slightly more conspicuous, though wide ambulatory appendage terminations prevent it from sinking unduly into the soil.

"Situation acknowledged. Indigenous wildlife altered by undesired factors. Specify task objections."

"Wolves usually are." Says the woman with the slightest of smiles touching her lips. "But they might also be... more intelligent than usual. Augmented by magic. We would appreciate it if you could uncover what changed their behavior, but the most important thing is to stop them from killing the other wildlife as ramantly as they have been. While we do not want them dead... We understand that if they have become too twisted by the magic that it may be necessary."

MAC-B1G gets a long look from Aimarra as he comes up behind, but she shakes her head slowly and turns back to Thurid. "That's where I come in. The good news is that they won't have any trouble finding us."

The druids' explanation gets a slow nod. "Heal them if you can, take them out if you have to. Got it. This plague thing doesn't get the plants, does it?"

Thurid nods her head once more, "So drive them off if we can, and cull their numbers back if we must. Find the reason for their unusual behavior if possible." she says, repeating back the instructions as she understands them. "I don't suppose you have a likely spot for us to begin our tracking?" she asks. "And stabling for Betty here." she slaps her Mule's hind quarters gently. "She's not like to be much cop if it comes to a scrap."

"Directives acknowledged." The construct may be a being of few words. Or limited vocabulary. Its faceplate pans from the one explaining the task, to Aimarra as the self-designated path detection unit. "This unit ready to commence." It has no herbivore's to stable nor supplies to stow.

"It did effect some plants, but we've done our best to purify the area around here. Thus you should not come across anything too dangerous aside from the wolves. As for your donkey. It is welcome to stay here, and Benard here will show you to where the most recent evidence of the wolves is."

With that, you are led into the forest. It's a bit of a trek, and most of it uphill. Bernard is easy to follow as he seems to be in no hurry, and when you reach your destination, he shows you the signs that the wolves have left in their wake. Frozen earth with large paw prints in it, tufts of white fur, and a few bloodstains where some animal likely fought for its life but did not survive. Of it there is no sign, as if even the bones were taken by the pack.

"I should be on my way. Hopefully you can find your way back to the grove from here. I have no desire to meet up with these wolves myself." That said, Bernard turns to leave.

GAME: Aimarra rolls survival: (16)+14: 30
GAME: Thurid rolls survival: (6)+4: 10
GAME: MAC-B1G rolls survival: (6)+1: 7

Aimarra kneels down by the massive pawprint, puts a small hand in one, then surveys the ground. "Worgs. Possibly winter worgs, which are even worse," she opines, rubbing unconsciously at her left forearm beneath the wrap on it. "Smart. Freezing everything in their path. Bigger than a normal wolf. They're cold creatures, though," and a shiver ripples through her. "They're headed -"

"Probably into the mountains." She stands, pacing back and forth, back and forth, in different directions, then finally returns to the group. "No. They're headed for the border of the Desolation. I'm sure of it. What in all nine thousand Hells?"

MAC-B1G follows the guide, uphill, to the patches of frozen ground, prints and blood. To the construct, all scans as ... frozen ground, prints, and blood. It is not the designated pathfinder, however, and waits for Aimarra's assessment. One that brings a course, promptly followed by conflicting information.

"Clarification requested: Taskforce destination: mountains, Desolation, or Nine Thousand Hells? Destinations are mutually-exclusive."

Thurid keeps her eyes peeled for the tracks and while she's able to spy the ones which are pointed out to her- she wasn't lying. She's no nose for this sort of work, and so she soon enough comes to rely on Aimarra's expertise. "To the desolation?" she wonders. "I don't know much about animals, but even I know that's passing strange." she offers. "Reckon there's something to the idea of them being trained?"

GAME: Aimarra rolls knowledge/local: (18)+5: 23
GAME: MAC-B1G rolls knowledge/local: (5)+3: 8

Too well does Aimarra remember her trek through the Desolation and across Alexandros to get here. There weren't many settlements, once one crossed the border into Alexandros. She'd been two days out of one when It had hit ... what was that settlement's name? She frowns, her brow furrowing, suddenly at once intent and intense. "Renwood!" she snaps out. "If they went in a straight line, there's not a lot of settlements here to there, but Renwood might be in that path. We better head for Renwood."

Thurid nods her head, "And we had best move quickly, as well. If they are as large and vicious as you say, the people of that settlement might be in danger." The Jotun woman says and hefts her hammer up onto her shoulder, settling it comfortably, as she prepares to pick up the pace now they know their destination.

MAC-B1G has limited data on the local geography and population centers, especially at any distance from Alexandria. "Acknowledged." It waits for a direction to re-orient itself and travel the updated course.

The worgs are tricky and in some places leave no tracks at all. Or double back on their tracks in ways that a human counterpart might. There's no way of determining how many there are. They all walk in the pawprints of the leader and the smudging isn't enough to give you an accurate count of them. They head right for Renwood, or for the Desolation beyond it. For two days you track them, heading right for the settlement when suddenly they veer to the side. No longer heading for the settlement but... going around it? Now you have two choices: head for the settlement, or follow the worgs. It's early in the day now, but that won't last. It never does.

"They go around the settlement," Aimarra speaks up after her latest pause to examine tracks. "They are not solely bent on murder, then. I say we follow them." No hesitation.

Thurid is happy enough to travel through the wilds with Aimarra at the lead, guiding them along the tracks. "That's good..." she agrees with Aimarra. "But I do worry about the townsfolk regardless. How much of a diversion would it be to check they are alright? Do you think we would be able to pick up the trail again?" she wonders.

MAC-B1G parses the information provided on the settlement, lupines, and the course of the latter. It subsequently scans their immediate surroundings. "Suggested course of action: extrapolate probable creature trajectory, plot intercept course along vicinity of settlement." Giving them options A, B, and possibly C) all the above?

"Finding them the first time was tricky enough," Aimarra shakes her head. "We had some good fortune to keep after them at all. If we sidetrack to the village, spend several hours finding someone to talk to, and then leave, who knows whether I'll find them again. Rather stay after them with as much rain as we've had lately."

MAC-B1G accepts Aimarra's suggestion, with clarification, as the most beneficial course of action. Their primary task is to investigate and remove the threat of the influenced creatures; defending a settlement is a strong secondary. "Acknowledged. Continuing pursuit course."

Thurid rubs the back of her neck with her free hand, clearly somewhat uneasy about the idea of just passing the village by with potentially murderous wolves on the prowl. But- the wolves seem to have given the village a wide berth, and so with a sigh she concedes to the tracker, nodding her head in agreement. "Alright. We'll keep following them." she agrees with the other two. "Lead the way, then." she offers Aimarra.

GAME: Thurid rolls perception: (17)+10: 27
GAME: Aimarra rolls perception: (10)+13: 23
GAME: MAC-B1G rolls perception: (9)+14: 23

It's the low rumble that you notice first. A sound that crawls along the edges of your bones and sinks into the primoridal parts of your mind. The part that huddled close to a fire in the dark and waited for the things that stalked it to come and snatch away the unwary. Then the ghost-like figures take shape in between the trees. Difficult to see at first then growing. Wolves. But so large that they hardly seem like wolves at all. They prowl closer and closer to you, but stay at a distance.

They make it difficult to get a good read on their numbers by moving around in the dark. But there are at least six. Maybe as many as eleven. A huge pack. One that could easily decimate a village or consume it whole. Their leader is a massive male, his white pelt marked from many battles, but they only prove that he is capable of enduring. He stalks the closest, but stays at a distance also. They are more threatening presence than they are anything else.

GAME: Thurid casts Light. Caster Level: 9 DC: 14

Thurid starts when she realizes that it's not just a shadow she catches out of the corner of her eye, not just the wind making that noise. She's not sure how long she's been subconsciously aware of the approaching wolves before they make themselves known to her conscious mind but when they do, she reaches for her holy symbol. "Looks like they found us." she says to her allies, and then closes her eyes for a moment so that she can speak a prayer, "Angoron, by your light guide us through the dark." she beseeches her God, and he answers, instilling the head of her mighty Earthbreaker with light, illuminating the surroundings and driving back the shadows.

Aimarra's blood runs cold, her hands trembling, but she pulls the bow off of her back and goes for an arrow, elven eyes searching the dimmer light for an exact count - no. Too many. "Found 'em," she mutters, but even that lame attempt at a joke is flat, laced with fear.

MAC-B1G's faceplate pans to movement, then to and fro as there is additional movement. "Affirmative. Threats detected. Quantity: inconclusive." It does not possess bones, per se, nor has it huddled around burning vegetation for warmth nor light. This does not make advancing into unknown numbers of threats any less tactically unsound. "Directive?"

The light causes several of the worgs to back up, but their leader only snarls and stalks closer. "We left your settlement in peace, but still you stalk us." His voice is a deep growling thing, and it's odd to hear words in the common tongue coming from an animal.

"Kill them!" Snarls one of the others.

"Death to the furless!"

He ignores his fellows and glares with pale blue eyes at Thurid. "Give me one good reason not to let my pack tear you apart!"

GAME: Thurid rolls diplomacy: (20)+10: 30
GAME: Aimarra rolls diplomacy: (8)+2: 10

Thurid's hand comes to grip the haft of her enormous maul, lowering her stance when the Worgs snarl at them and continues to close. However, when their leader speaks- and in the common tongue no less, she can't hide her surprise, eyebrows raising as she stands up straighter again.

"You speak our tongue?" she says then, doing nothing to hide her surprise. "We stalk you because we wish to know why you are hunting so aggressively. The Druids of the grove fear you are being driven deeper into these lands by some other force." she explains, forthright and frank.

"If there is some foce driving you from your normal hunting grounds, we would help if we may." she adds then.

"The druids want to know what's going on," Aimarra agrees, lowering the bow and putting the arrow away. "They're wondering if you're okay."

The mission briefing did not disclose that the lupines were capable of speech, so the construct was unprepared for the possibility. It stands there as it did previously, though now the faceplate pans enough to include both of its taskforce peer units as well as the apparent leader. "Affirmative," it eventually adds, confirming what was already stated.

"Of course we do. Did you think us merely dogs to come to your command?" The leader lets out a bark of snide amusement and his fellows echo him. "If knowing will make you leave, then know this: We are called by the darkness rising in the Forgotten Heartland. It whispers to us in dreams and offers us a place there. We go to it. We will avoid your furless settlements, so stalk us no further or we will eat you."

"Eat them! Eat them!" Several of the worgs seem to like this idea.

Thurid smirks a bit as they talk about eating her, "I assure you, you'd find me difficult to chew." she asserts, but continues along the more diplomatic track. "I'd know more of this darkness that calls to you. How did you come to know of it?" the Jotun asks, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and resting her hammer on her shoulder once more now that violence doesn't seem immediately impending.

"The druids worry your hunting in these lands will disrupt the balance of nature. If all the prey is gone, none will remain to breed anew in the spring." she says then. "You would go hungry."

"I don't think they care," Aimarra mutters to Thurid, but continues to watch the leader, letting Thurid do the talking.

"Lack of fuel would result in system deactivation," MAC informs its companions, possibly the lupines. Given the possibility than one or more are unaware of this causality.

"It is as your second says." The worg says shaking his head. "We do not care. We take what we need to feed the Pack, and that is the Way. We will not be here for the spring. We will be in the Forgotten Heartland." There's a chours of agreement from the others and he continues. "As for the darkness, it comes to us in dreams. It takes many shapes - or none - and leads us to paradise."

There's a howl of agreement again and their leader takes a step back. "Go furless. Go. Before my Pack decides that you look like good prey."

Aimarra shrugs again, and looks up at Thurid. "Fine with me. The pack that hunts to extinction brings its own troubles on itself, but that's not my concern. Return ever again to these lands, and the predators will become the prey." There's a warning in her tone, but she pointedly turns her back on the worg pack and begins to walk away. "Let's go back to Renwood. They might know more, and be more willing to talk about it."

Thurid nods her head slowly, frowning a bit. She keeps the one hand on her hammer where it rests against her shoulder, but it seems despite the warnings she is not done talking yet. "Where did you first begin to dream of this darkness?" she asks them. To Aimarra, she frowns, but keeps her own council on what troubles her.

She shakes her head, and turns back to the wolves. "I suppose that is not the reason I am here. But I would have your world you will not harm the settlements you pass on your Pilgrimage."

MAC-B1G pans between units designate Thurid and Aimarra. "Task directive one, Identify abnormal behavior source: satisfied. Task directive two, Prevent Untenable Damage to Local Wildlife: satisfied upon lupine social group exit from locale."

The leader backs away slowly, and the other worgs begin to proceed him deeper into the forest. He utters a few barks and growls at those that try to linger. "We have always dreamed of Him. Perhaps. And you have my words furless already. Whether you choose to believe them is up to you." He turns suddenly, and leaps after his comrades, vanishing into the underbrush quickly in spite of his white fur.

Aimarra appears to be ignoring the others, and the worgs as she walks away at a calm and sedate pace, bow still in hand. We won't talk about the trembling that hand is doing, or the fist clenched at her side.

Thurid catches up with Aimarra after a few moments, a frown still on her face. "Don't you think we ought to follow them? Make certain they leave, don't hunt the area to extinction?" she asks the Ranger- outside of her wheelhouse. "I don't have any reason to doubt they intend to continue their journey, but I'd rather know where they are headed and how long it will take them." she explains.

MAC-B1G turns to withdraw, following the remainder of the task force.

"Absolutely, but if you think I'm going to make them think I'm interested in trying anything of the kind, think again. They knew we were tracking them. We'll have to hang back some if we don't want to get jumped."

Thurid nods her head at Aimarra, "Alright, makes sense. Let's double back to the village then and see if anyone there has seen or heard anything useful." she says, and then continues following Aimarra back towards the village.

"Additional directives acknowledged." The construct was attempting to parse the situation and the updated course of action. Now that is no longer an issue; new directives equal new actions.

-End