Open Chronicles The Heart of Dae'lich'Qal

[Nikolos]

“it truly is miserable out here, huh?”

With the pipe left hanging from his mouth he clapped his hands together and rubbed them for warmth, nestling himself into his seat a little more comfortably as he did. He watched Focraig'Diin enter onto their transport, alerted by its shifting weight as he climbed aboard. He arched a brow as he cast his spell.

"Indeed it is..." he said, his voice trailing off as the mage's magic did its work - apparently - and he felt the temperature become much more tolerable. Well at least he thought so, but it was indeed still cold. Nevertheless, the ice wizard was a welcome addition to their troop as far as he was concerned.

"First time smokin', mage?" he chuckled, his playful quip taken well by the man. He seemed a jovial sort. Nikolos supposed you could afford to be when you could simply turn someone into ice if they didn't like you. His eyes cast down and he shook his head with a continued chuckle at the prospect. Not how I intend to go anyway, hehe...

but how far is this place again?

"Well we have a few days until the next town, then from there I think about two more days farther north. We should find the tomb with no problem, Garfield's got his trusty map there. I hear its actually a bit warmer by the time we get there too."

He shrugged. He figured farther north would mean more cold, but apparently that wasn't always the case. Then again that source was unreliable, just one of the locals who he... didn't know. In any event, they were going to find out.

~*~*~*~
​

3 Days Later
Darrington

​

Nikolos took another swig from the bottle being passed around the lot in the wagon. There were several rolling all in a line, with many others on horseback or otherwise dotted around them. They'd had some of the tradesmen erect a barrier from the northern wind, and they'd done so in less than half a day. That kept them half ways comfortable at least.

During the nights they'd circled the few wagons they had and burned large fires in between. It wasn't the greatest, but paired with the liquor they hauled along with them, they made do.

He passed the bottle along to Myrra, with Focraig'Diin in line behind her. "Oi!" A shout came from ahead signalling the signs of life coming into view, and a few men even started clapping. Finally, he thought. They ran out of bourban early on, and shit if he wasn't thirsty for some now. In secret he blamed Myrra for this. She had drank quite a bit of it.

Okay, maybe he helped her, but she started it.

He turned to the others as they came to a halt, "well let's go shall we?"

He wasted no time getting himself outside, and though they'd really not been all that cramped just sitting like they had been grew... tiring. Could there at least be some bandits or something?

He stretched, and looked up. Nearly nightime already.

"Well shit, we'd better get to the bar!"

He looked around for Faelin K'Abveirin, who'd been riding on his own, free to float about the group as he wished.

"Servus? Where are ya? Let's go, come on!"

And he started off toward the first place that looked, and sounded, like a tavern. A place where the sign hung out over the street reading: The Talon's File.

 

[Myrra]

Gravel colliding with the wheels of the transport created a dissonance which was grating on her long, pointed ears. Though her head was still aching from the previous days of drinking it was tough to resist the bottle being handed to her by Nikolos. Hair of the dog may do her well.

Though the liquor being passed around was foul it'd have to make due. Her magic was getting harder to control with stiff fingers and the alcohol helped loosen 'em up. It was a real shame that Nikolos has hogged all of the bourbon. She lifted the bottle and took a heavy glug, exhaling to dull the burn in her throat, and then passed it off to Focraig'Diin with a knowing nod.

As soon as the bottle passed from her elven fingers the call came out that they had arrived. Darrington was supposed to be a bit bigger and nicer than most of the other hovels they'd dotted on their path. Hopefully it would prove to be a good location for a re-supply. Maybe they'd score a proper drink.

"Yep, I second that," she remarked at Nikolos' notion of getting to the bar. "Best get there quickly so we can score something top shelf. Especially after you finished the last of the good stuff," she teased at the human.

 

[Nikolos]

Nikolos pushed open the door.

Inside was a lively bunch, with laughter and song and carrying on. Much like the other night at the Den. But this place was much bigger and far more fun. He stepped aside and gestured with his arm and a slight bow.

"My lady," he said, allowing Myrra to enter before he.

Certainly no one could say he had no manners. He looked back for the others who were still occupied with some tasks to do with the caravan. Nikolos chuckled.

"Whoops," he said with a chuckle as he turned and followed Myrra into the tavern. They found a seat at a square table with a few extra chairs, and ordered their drinks.

"Bourbon," he declared, "bourbon for me, bourbon for her especially, and then more bourbon."

He flashed a mischievous smile before turning his head to examine the patronage as their server left for their drinks.

It was loud, and merry.

But an odd group in the farthest corner gave him a peculiar feeling. His eyes floated over them briefly before returning to face her again.

"Nasty looking bunch," he mused with the subtle inclination of his head.

Focraig'Diin Faelin K'Abveirin

 

[Faelin K'Abveirin]

The dark elf seemed to appear out of nowhere with a mere swoop of his cloak. And that was the first thing one could remember of him for the past few hours.

Of course, one merry bunch of rowdy people in a tavern make for a great replacement of a merry bunch of rowdy people in wagons? So he just acompanied the rest to the inn.

»It's always the liqueur you two seek? I hope that's not all you'll think after the big payday,« he snorted, sitting on the corner seat. Faelin only ordered some diluted wine, the weak stuff, but still something to not seem too odd in the company he held.

"Nasty looking bunch,"

»Suppose keeping a low profile would be ideal. But what am I saying, have fun before we get back on the road.« Faelin spoke dryly as if he didn't mean it at all.

 

[Myrra]

Myrra walked into the tavern's dining area swiftly. She wasn't some fair lady to be tended to but if Nikolos, or any man for that matter, wished to let her have first dibs on the alcohol she wasn't going to question it.

At the order of bourbon she let a grin sneak and mentioned to the waitress, "best to leave the bottle."

The dark elven woman took a glance at Faelin as he made his remark, though she wasn't necessarily annoyed so much as wanting to provide a correction. "If you've got something better to do than drink on this mind-numbing escapade I'm all ears." A stream of bourbon flowed down her throat as the punctuation to that statement.

Red eyes scanned the area that Nikolos gestured to. He was right, quite a few rough looking humans. Uncultured and rowdy with too much alcohol already. The drow tried to ignore them and looked back at her own companions.

"Best mind our own business."

 

[Nikolos]

"If you've got something better to do than drink on this mind-numbing escapade I'm all ears."

"Well," he said, leaning back in his chair, "I rather enjoy forgetting about how much time I spent sitting on that god forsaken bench."

The wagons weren't necessarily the most comfortable mode of transport - at least not for several days on end. But it sure as hell beat walking.

"But I do enjoy my drink on a good day too," he laughed.

Nikolos wasn't always chasing a bottle, but since he'd joined up with this crew he had taken to their way of operating. It helped with the cold too. As much as he was accustomed to the colds of the Spine, winter was cold just about everywhere he'd been.

* * *​

Garfield lumbered his way toward the Talon's File with a few other men. He talked with them about locating the rest of the caravan - but it didn't appear that they'd arrived yet.

He opened the door and gave the room a quick scan. He and Nikolos exchanged nods when their eyes met, and then Garfield started toward the bar. He would deal with finding accommodations for the group.

He discussed things with the innkeep for a time. After he'd settled things, he turned to leave again and went back outside. He had other business to attend back at the wagons.

Some time later after a few drinks and laughs, and wondering where the hell Focraig'Diin had gotten to, one of the men came into the tavern, his face curled in perplexion. He spotted Nikolos and Myrra and Faelin K'Abveirin and waded over to them.

"Ay, any chance to seen the Cap? He came in here and never came back out to us,"
​

Nikolos stopped just short of taking a drink, and his eyes shot over to the darkened corner. The rough bunch were also missing.

"Oh for crying out loud..."

 

[Focraig'Diin]

Attention of the unwanted sort. Just what Focraig needed. He glimpsed out the corner of his eye a couple of such folk, eyeing the amulet on his person.

Thiefs. Amateurs at that.

He supposed he had time to kill... if he hadn't spotted another group leaving the tavern as he finished etching the rune onto the wooden wagon - an investment to ensure he hadn't need to feel like an icicle everytime he used magic.

Puffing out mist from his pipe, he followed the bunch with the discretion one could expect from a mage of his caliber.

"Lad, ya look like a stalker."

None, really. That was Traecon's expertise. Focraig didn't do... subtle. Still, he eyed the guard who watched him work on the wagons.

"Keep an eye on the runes. And for your sake - "

"No touching, Ah' get it. Ain't much of a fan of magics."

Taking that affirmative, the mage followed the group exiting the tavern, and amid their ranks, his eyes spotted a familiar face he had gotten to know over the past three days of travel. Half-lidded eyes, a cloth gag, and he glimpsed crimson staining that same cloth.

He blinked once.

And said group halted cold in their tracks, their feet literally frozen to the ground in blocks of blue ice.

Puffing out another breath from his pipe, the mage gestured to the gagged one among them with the contraption, the meaning quite clear as day.

"Nikolos, Myrra, Faelin K'Abveirin!" He called. "We have some troublemakers about! Come on out!"

He did not even regard the two people behind him, the thieves turned to ice dust the moment they touched the amulet, frozen to degrees not even the Spine's winter winds could compare. Dusting the specks off his coat, he mage then addressed the group directly.

"That is for stealing from a mage. Try attacking me directly, see where that gets you."

 

[Nikolos]

"Nikolos, Myrra, Servus!" He called. "We have some troublemakers about! Come on out!"

He slammed his drink back hurriedly, and glanced to each of his companions and the lad who had come in searching for them.

"Shall we?"

His chair slid back with a great screech, and he hopped to his feet and began on his way out. His vision was a little skewed already...ah shit... he swung open the door and made his way out, finding Focraig'Diin not far, standing off with a familiar set of faces.

They had one Garfield bound and gagged, and he looked a little worse for wear to say the least.

Dusting the specks off his coat, he mage then addressed the group directly.

"That is for stealing from a mage. Try attacking me directly, see where that gets you."

Nikolos blinked in astonishment at what had happened to the men who had sought to take from the ice mage. Following this, he would forever categorize Focraig under do not fuck with. Last thing he wanted was to be dust brushed off someone's shoulder. A terrifying fate. He gave his head a quick shake, and then drew his sword and stepped forward in an attempt to display some charming chivalry.

Sure, she was far from some damsel maiden in distress, but he couldn't help himself from trying to impress Myrra.

"Unhand him, you fiend!"

Then, several of the men charged to attack. One in particular, wearing an amulet of his own, attacked the ice mage. He'd prove resistant to the magicians power... but not invulnerable.

Meanwhile, while they were engaged in a flurry of steel, a couple of the criminals attempted to make off with Garfield - likely because he had the map!

God damnit Garfield...

Faelin K'Abveirin

 

[Faelin K'Abveirin]

Faelin quietly finished his drink, handing over some tip on the table as the rest of the crew departed in a mere moment's notice. »Here we go, « he mumbled, standing up and stretching himself out.

It almost felt too intent that he didn't even drink that heavily.
But you know, being careful even in good company was a given for the elf that often dealt with shady men.

Oh well.
He wrapped himself in his tarnkappe.
»I'll go after,« he loudly whispered in Nikolos' way. In a mere moment the elf seemingly disapeared under his cloak, only the footsteps were seen as he set after the men.

 

[Myrra]

What an awful experience. They were sat here, several bottles of bourbon filled and ready to be consumed, and now there was some sort of trouble brewing. She could just tell by news that Garfield had gone missing, Nikolos' hesitancy to take another drink, and the odd individuals in the corner suddenly vanishing.

‘We finally get to just relax indoors and drink, and now this?’ she thought to herself before reluctantly standing with Faelin and Nikolos. Myrra made certain to carry a bottle of bourbon on the way out. Needn’t let good liquor go to waste.

Outside in the cold the dark elf noticed their leader, bound and gagged, nearby Focraig and some bandits turned to icicles. Bravely, or perhaps stupidly, Nikolos moved forward with his blade drawn whilst Faelin tried to prevent the other rogues from kidnapping their employer.

Myrra took a sip from the bottle of bourbon and conjured up a sheet of water between Nikolos, herself, and the rushing fiends. She allowed the water to cascade down, freezing almost on impact with the snowy ground. With any luck the iced pathway would prove slippery enough that Nikolos could play at hero and finish their attackers off quickly.

Then the group could return indoors, the warmth and the booze.

 

[Focraig'Diin]

Focraig's response to the one bandit's charge was to extend a hand towards the weapon. Clearly this one was used to magic assault. He'd take the other approach then. Like carving up animals or cutting up poisonous fishes.

Some... surgical precision.

The blade shone silver in the torchlight, but as it descended in an arc, poised to lop off Focraig's extended arm, patches of ice appeared on the sword's metal. And as it met the ice armor that covered said arm, it shattered like brittle glass. The force of the breaking was kinetic, not magic, and thus forced back the enemy, arms wide and open.

"Wha - "

And a spear of ice exited the bandit's back, the wound frozen over to prevent bleeding. The mage glanced at the amulet on the bandit's neck, cracked from the sudden attack.

"I'll commend your efforts for resistance, but I advise simply learning the arts in the next life." He lectured, though the man was already dead the second the ice pierced his heart, the cold magic halting all cognitive function on contact.

He glanced behind the corpse, to the other two making a getaway. The spear shot out the body, the dead man yanked with it before sliding free of the construct a few feet later, hitting the ground with a muffled splat.

The spear flew past the two bandits, instantly exploding into a wall of crystallized cold, halting them in their tracks. Nikolos would take care of them. In the meantime...

"Where's a drink to have..." mumbled the mage, feeling numb from the neck down. He would need something warm, and quick - his blood would literally freeze over if he didn't.

 

[Nikolos]

Nikolos nodded as Faelin K'Abveirin moved to duck around, leaving he, Myrra and Focraig'Diin to deal with the rest of these lot. Very well! As Focraig was engaged, Nikolos moved to deal with the others. As he stepped forward, he just managed to make notice of the freshly frozen sheet of ice before his feet. He smiled.

He lunged forward, sliding along the ice with a balance well trained from doing just this thing, and he swept his sword down and around, knocking one of the bandits to his knees before landing a hard punch across another's jaw. One last parry and...

Done!

With heaps of bandits left in his wake, and Myrra and Focraig turning back to head inside - he continued to slid along somewhat... anticlimactically.

"Wait, we have to…"

Argh!

He spun around to see that Garfield laid on the ground - still bound - but only due to the fact Severin had just begun to tend to the two fiends that had tried to make off with their fearless leader. Nikolos rushed over to his aid, fiddling with the bonds as Severin finished them off. He sat Garfield up with a pat on the back, and brushed him off a bit. He coughed and weezed, but he'd be okay.

"Let's get you a drink, what the hell was that about anyway?"

Another cough, "I don't know. Just a bunch of asshole kids I think..."

Nikolos nodded, and hoisted him to his feet.

Well. That wasn't such a big deal.

 

[Focraig'Diin]

The drink was definitely needed, as the warm liquor took effect in the most... visual of ways. The men in that bar would be one of the first to witness a man literally steam like boiling water as he downed the whole mug in a single shot. The white mist hissed as it left his pores, the heat forcing the blood to circulate faster to rid itself of the excess cold. Slamming the wooden cup on the table, he breathed out a stream of yet more mist, but this one was still frigid, and nearly iced over the table.

"Ah... dipsh - sorry." He caught himself, the ice retracting back into his robes. "It was more refreshing that I admitted."

The bartender's gaze was more impressed than stunned, however. "I thought mages were horrid drinkers. What you downed was enough for all other mages I met to keel over like a lad having his first mug."

At that, the mage shrugged. "I've had experience in the Deserts of Amol Kalit. My craft turned me into a moving beer refresher, and I was forced to drink along those groups, if only to blend in and not stand out."

He did not mention he was also a literal cooler on the hottest of desert days. Having nearly everyone huddle close to him amid the sizzling heat, like a reverse situation of a fire in a blizzard storm, had not sat well with him even until now. And from the contemplative gaze of the bartender...

"Really now? I was figuring out how to keep my delivery of wines cool for a shipment to that area, come to think of it - "

"No." Then he took a moment to think. "How much for a rune? It will do a better job."

The bartender laughed aloud. "I like that lad! How's this for a charge?" He thumped a bag of coin as big as Focraig's hand on the table. "For the one crate."

In response, the mage drew a rune. Eihwas. "Slap that on the box, and so long as it isn't tampered with in any way, that crate will be like a freezer until the stars burn out and the world dies." He rapped the empty mug on the table. "And another round please. This cold won't be going away anytime soon." It was taking a little longer than anticipated to digest it.

Myrra Nikolos Faelin K'Abveirin