The First Account of Tyg Orell, 351st year of the 3rd Age, Southern Taldor.
Winter has certainly stretched out its cold fingers this year, but… too fast, and too far south. The town of Heldren boasted summer days just a week ago, and now we are up to our knees in white drifts. Long miles of tracking the kidnapped mistress, Lady Argentea Mallasene, have mixed both hardship and wonderment. These lands could easily be mistaken for the northern tundra to an untrained eye. These summer trees and vermin will not last a fort night!
We came across a band of ill-fated bandits, soon struck down by our arrows, blade, and axe. Green mercenaries at best, although one fled the scene. We have been tracking for hours now, unseen and unheard I hope. We have encountered a fair amount of fell fey magics as well, bastardized by some unknown foe.
It is with great fortune that I was borne of elven kin and unto the snow, for it does not affect me as the others. All manners of protection are being donned by Korvast, Thorald, Thelal, and our calculating Banker. My skin simply turns few shades of deeper blue. I rather like this.
Finally, a fledging wooden log house has appeared. Our running man has fled through one of the doors and now all appears quiet. Too quiet… there are undoubtedly traps, and I have told my comrades, but my initial scouring of the area has revealed nothing but a terribly unattended outhouse. Good heavens the stink is bad! Could humans really stoop as low as to shit here?
I’ll have to warn the others to stay clear of this….“TWANG”.
-Thorald has unceremoniously triggered a trap with his monstrous footfalls, and all the outpost’s window shutters fly open as arrows are loosed!-
Korvast and Thorald fly forth to close the distance between them and the shutters, desperate avoid death by arrow and spear to engage in melee. Tyg deftly supports their combat with death defying bow shots through the windows. Even with the log house’s advantage, it is clear these bandits are not at full strength, and they soon fall. In fact, their decrepit forms suggest starvation and hardship.
A tense search of the log house ensues, and soon they are approached and laid upon by Rohkar Cindren, leader of bandits and known conspirator of winter Fey of this Border Wood. A final battle ensues, and Rohkar is dispatched by righteous might.