(group 2) Chapter 1: The Price of Survival

As the others go to sleep Corynn focuses on his surroundings,
Dice Roll: 1d20+2
d20 Results: 16 (Total = 18)
listening to the sounds of the night and
Dice Roll: 1d20+2
d20 Results: 2 (Total = 4)
watching the shadows for movement. Honestly he was glad they didn't have a fire, that way his eyes could adjust to the dark better.

Ruln does little more in preparation for his rest than walk back and forth over the same seven feet of snow until it is somewhat compressed; that done, he unties a roll of furs, spreading them out on the ground and lying down, not in them, but upon them, shrugging off both backpack and flail to set them down on the roll beside him, then folding the furs over them. His eyes stare off into the darkness of the sky for a time, then he rolls over onto his side, drifting off into sleep.

The night seems to be passing uneventfully. With no fire, your eyes grow a little accustomed to the night. The clouds pass away and the stars glow brightly in the black sky, dimly outlining the silhouettes of the snow-covered bushes and shrubs of your campsite.

The night is silent for the most part, eerie for those not accustomed to it, but comforting to those who are, with barely a whisper of wind once in a while over the snow-covered moors.

When his watch finally ends and he's spent a few minutes making sure the orc is actually fully awake Corynn gratefully slips into his bedroll and under his extra blanket and is sleeping peacefully just a few minutes later.

Midway through his watch, the white cat ensconced in an indentation in the snow sits upright, suddenly. He swings his head first to the left, then the right, ears flattened back against his head as he surveys the lands. It is too dark to see much, perhaps, and, he judges, the snow is soft enough to muffle the steps of creatures. But, once he has established that there is nothing to be seen for the moment, he hunches down again, his eyes just over the crater he has created, peering about intently as he sniffs at the air.

Deresk emits a guttural sound from the depths of his chest. The noise of nothing comforts his sense, and allow him to feel the essence of the spirits and hear their conversations. His red eyes burn with the night, and he watches the whips of wind at the borders of his darkvision. He should be more at ease, but there is talking in the back of his head, old spirits growling about how the snow drifts are different. Ordinarily he pays no attention, but even here there a distant rumblings. Something now is moving and the spirits are taking notice. Deresk does as well.

The night is passing seemingly in peace. During Ruln's watch, the other three sleep soundly, hearing no nightly noises or disturbances. Ruln, in wild cat form, watches the night closely...

A sense of wariness enfolds Ruln; though the creature lurking at his shoulder is ever out of sight, he can almost sense the bristling of its fur as the canine scent grows stronger, his own fur mimicking the effect. Hunching down further, he
Move Silently:
Dice Roll:
d20 Results: 12 (Total = 17)
slouches through the snow to where Deresk rests, and, without hesitation, he reaches a paw out, claws sheathed, and gives two swift jabs at the sleeping form; then he bats the next nearest. At the rate of approach of the wolves, they will be upon them in little more time than that; and so, he turns to face into the night where the wolves lurk once more.

Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.8
Copyright ©2000 - 2015, vBulletin Solutions, Inc.
Myth-Weavers Status