2. Foaming mugs

As they pass the sailors, Okto can't help but mumble in sing-song fashion under his breath his favorite verse, somewhat hoping that Bells picks up the shanty and joins in or accompanies the song with music, but doing his best to conceal it.

♫ Trigl-ee-oh, lads, an' cast the nets out wide ♫
♫ Trigl-ee-oh, lads, an' raise your tankards high ♫

---

Okto delights in finally seeing Anders' place, even with its shoddy construction and minimal protection from the elements. As he takes a gleeful look around the inside of the cabin, he asks Anders, "What was the story you told me about how you claimed this cabin again? Wasn't there something about a frost giant and an ice troll caught in a tryst?"

Anders halts for a minute at what Okto just said, wracking his brain for any sort of answer. Finally, it dawns on him. "No, not quite like that.. You were deep in your cups when I told you that the noise and cold it let in reminded me of a frost giant and an ice troll having a tryst." He chuckles a bit. "And the smell isn't much better. But it's cozy, most nights. It does its job."

Inside the cabin is a small mattress (likely stuffed with arctic mosses) with a handful of patchwork quilts and a bearskin rug, a clay stove with an iron pot, and a random assortment of hunting and fishing gear. Much of it was in disrepair, not unlike his own clothing. Empty bottles of wine litter the floor, and some stains in the wood suggest either blood or wine. "Okto, get the lantern lit. I'll start the fire. The rest of you, we have a decision to make. Hunker down and hope for better weather, or press on. I can't guarantee it'll be better tomorrow. I also can't guarantee Oobok will survive. The longer we wait, the harder it will be to track that Yeti, but it'll have the advantage if the weather keeps like this."

Oh, music did indeed lift the heavy burden of work quickening the hands and lightening the heart so it brought a smile to the bard's face to hear the baritones floating over the frozen lake. Somehow the void of nothing left in the wake of snow and darkness amplified the words so Bells was able to catch the tune by the second time through the melody.

Matching her own gait to the rhythm of the song did indeed help navigate the path but in no way was she comfortable in risking her instrument, in case, an ankle turned giving her a tumble with the delicate neck exposed. However, the entertainer did punctuate the end of a line with a clap of her hands.Come on, boys! Join in! Do I hear you mumbling up there, Okto? No! Enunciate loud and clear...let me hear you! She encouraged.

Arrival at Anders' lodgings brought the expected. There was no shame in living modestly but it would be easy to cast a bit of judgment his way over the unkempt state of his place. However, the man offered what he had in hospitality which included a break from the ceaseless wind with a promise of a heat coming forthwith...it was enough to be grateful even if the bard found herself breathing through her mouth in the fragrant quarters. Anders, thank you inviting us to your home. And you stole it all from a frost giant and an ice troll? Now I simply MUST hear that story!

Giggling with the explanation, All the good stories begin with, "and I was into a few cups when..."

Bells then slapped her hands together trying to get the feeling to return before righting a few bottles and placing them by the front door. Oops, I 'm sorry. I think I tilted the remnants of the bottle on the floor. Let me clean it right up. The bard with a sing song voice and a wave of her finger, perfectly cleaned a section of the floor which she then claimed by sitting down drawing her knees to her chest trying to hold in the warmth.

Bells was torn as the options were laid out in front of them. Even now her lashes formed half moons resting against her cheeks as her chin found support on the top of her knees. Traveling in the bitter cold zapped one's vitality and the bard was running into her reserves. But if she was already drained then how would Oobok survive a full night? Give me five minutes, just five minutes and I'll be ready to go.

Bells was silent for the next few minutes. Suddenly with a start, the bard jerked awake. Andres, do you know where we should start looking? Did you see his sister's tracks or do you know their likely path?

Rayne crashes heavily to the floor once the door slams shut behind him, the icy wind finally blocked from cutting into the skin beneath his furs. Once he is convinced he isn't going to freeze to death, he unwraps his furs, sending a few empty wine bottles careening across the floor. Rayne looks up as if to apologize for disturbing the bottles, but realizes it's unneccessary once he takes in more of his surroundings. "Anders, thank you for the hospitality, but couldn't you find a shack closer to town?"

Shivering as the ice crusted to his dark hair begins to melt and drip down his back, Rayne wonders to himself if he made the right choice to come to Targos. He wasn't sure what to expect from the frozen north before leaving, but it was not spending his first night half frozen, penniless, stuck in a half falling over hut planted in the middle of the tundra, about to head out after a Yeti.

Things could be worse he supposed, at least there was some pay to be had. And there was a life hanging in the balance - a balance that he has the power to tilt one way or the other. As his thoughts drift to Oobok, imagining him alone in the middle of the tundra, possibly wounded, without company or the comforts of Ander's shack, Rayne realizes things could definitely be a lot worse, and he knows which way he would like to tip the scales.

"Right, then," he says as he reluctantly starts wrapping himself back up in the furs which haven't yet had a chance to fully dethaw, "which way do we go, Anders?"

With Bells' encouragement, Okto happily begins shantying the songs a bit louder for the group to hear. It lifts his spirits, but he wishes he had some ale to lube up his vocal cords and warm him against the cold.

---

At the recounting of the story, Okto chuckles, "Ah! That's right. Ha. Though, I quite like my version better." he teased.

Okto immediately gets to starting the lanterns up and helping to warm the place up. His eyes glow with the green of an aurora as he mumbles a few words under his breath. The lanterns and campfire within the small hovel all immediately flare up with the same green color, giving the room a green hue and providing a small burst of warmth from the flames (casting Thaumaturgy, just for flavor though, I know that might be stretching the bounds of the spell).

While the group discussing their next step, Okto chimes in, "As much as I would love to stay in here and warm up, I don't think we can afford the time to rest. I think we ought to push on." He says, thinking of saving Oobok, of course, but also struggling to get the diamond off his mind.

Anders sits in front of the fire, now, with flint and steel in hand. That was a nifty trick the half-blood had, he'd have to learn it himself... The fire is a welcome comfort, though the green light gives a sickly hue to the small shack.

"If we go now, we head east into Auril's weather. Tracking Oobok should be easy. Finding the shipment will be easy, assuming it is still there. But finding the Yeti will be more difficult. Should it come upon us, I would know what you can do to help? I am skilled in the bow, and to some extent the blade."

Okto takes into both hands the warhammer slung against his back, "I usually use this to crush ice that blocks me and my crew's path, but I've had to use it against a few beasts before. I, uh, also have a bit of magic that helps in a fight. A little bit of hurting with a little bit of healing."

Okto then looks to the rest of the group, waiting for their response. While he does enjoy the occasional melee, he doesn't want to let that on too much if the rest of the party are pacifists.

Leaning back on her arms, Bells tosses her hair over her shoulder leaving it to cascade down her back, I've never been at a loss on how to handle a few rowdy men but a beastie? Now, that is entirely another matter so if easy includes rescuing Oobok and returning the shipment which is exactly what we collected payment then I'm all for easy. As you have witnessed, I can do a bit of healing which will hopefully be enough to stabilize the dwarf allowing us to return him alive. Now if that yeti creature shows up then follow the jingle as I will be running in the opposite direction.

Slowly standing, the petite woman stretched before donning her gear, It sounds like we are all agreed both to our path forward and that time is working against us so we should be off.

Rayne stands up "I've not fought a Yeti before, but I have been in my fair share of scrapes. Though, admittedly without these trappings," he says, eyeing his snowshoes with disdain. He pulls his furs aside to reveal his blade, "For better or worse, I am but a human without the gifts of magic or piety, but I've learned a trick or two having to rely only on my sword over the years" he pauses before continuing,"And I suppose I've also learned to take a beating."

"I do not look forward to facing the claws of that beast, and if retreat is our best option, then we should consider following Bells lead. However if we must, I will stand and fight." Rayne concludes as he finishes preparing for another trip out into the harsh winds.

Anders, sensing the impending doom, cries out an alert! At the same time, he reaches to the side of his back to retrieve the rope he often carries, loosing the hasty slipknot and passing it back to the rest of the party. "It's about to get choppy! Hold the rope, don't let go, and prepare yourselves! I'll try to get us through, but the beast may be upon us!". He looks over the group to see the order, and urges Okto to be in the rear.

---

Okto knows this blizzard all too well, and feels familiarity in its bitterness. He immediately springs into action, helping Anders distribute the rope amongst everyone. "Hurry! Everyone take this, and do not let go of it. Auril's a nasty one, and she's angry with us. You might not be able to see or hear the rest of the group, so stay as close as possible!"

He runs over to Bells and a blue and green flash of light emanates from his hands as he touches the side of her arm. A faint aurora glow swirls around Bells before coalescing near her hands, helping her hold on to the rope. He smiles, then returns to his spot in the line.

Head down, forward step, suck in air through layers of cloth covered in ice crystals, forward step... Bells almost stumbled into the back of the man in front of her when she realized their forward progression had ceased. Coming out of the trance she had achieved to propel herself through the miserable conditions, the bard was momentarily confused. Did they reach their destination? Maybe time was also lost on the tundra because it didn't seem to be as long as Anders had first estimated but maybe he exaggerated the numbers to impress them a bit.

But, no! Realization slowly dawned as the wind carried some of Anders' orders before the weight of a thrown rope brushed past her boot. The reason for stopping wasn't that their destination had been reached but that things were about to become worse. Worse!?! What was that frozen emptiness they just transversed?

A trickle of fear traveled down Bells' spine. Maybe she should have stayed at home. At least if she had died there she would have been buried in warmed desert sands. But before despair could take hold, the bard felt a meaty paw rest on her arm and despite the overgrown incisors the smile promised all the warmth she would would need: a friend.

Grasping onto the rope with one hand, Bells cast a glowing outline of hope using Prestiditation about 5 feet in front of Anders. Whether the group chose to move forward or needed a point of reference not to become lost, there would be a fixed beacon that was sorely lacking in this land: the sun.

Anders pushes through, finding that moving forward is the only thing keeping them from being pushed back. Wherever back is. Or even forward. These concepts are relative at the moment, and so he pushes on forward. But he had survived this long, Auril be damned. In the howling winds, he screams curses to the Frostmaiden herself. He cries out in a voice hidden by the gales, accepting Her challenge.

He is tired coming out the other side. Tired, but alive. The colors in the sky bring back memories of returning to Luskan, streaming banners lining the waterways. He takes his first deep breath in what seems like ages, before it freezes in his lungs. He turns to his party, to see who survived.

Symbols could be argued to be nothing more than the representations of another reality but that does not rob them of power. Bells clung to the promise of life radiating from the sun symbol she continued to cast before the party. Every glimpse of the glowing image fed the fire within to not succumb but to burn brighter than the fury of the Snow Maiden.

Okto had admonished the bard to keep ahold of the rope and Bells had. During some of the most furious moments of blinding wind and snow, the bard would warm the rope allowing her poor frozen digits to retain the strength to continue to cling to the thread that connected her to the others. But eventually Bells internal flame began to sputter providing the Maiden enough satisfaction to retreat in victory.

Left exhausted but whole, Bells began to jingle as she checked upon each of her companions offering a bit of warmth applied to gloves before having to perform the same magic to unthaw the water in the canteen to quinch their thirst.

The storm batters and breaks the poor young half-orc. The large tusks protruding from his lips freeze to the nerve deep inside, and it chills Okto to his bones. After wave after wave of constant suffering, Okto falls to his knees and begins crawling along with the group through the blizzard, unable to see, hear, talk, or do anything else but just focus on staying alive. Though, it was hard to tell if he even was actually alive at this point, or if Hell really had frozen over. Even through all this, Okto can hear the Frostmaiden's evil whispers through the rough winds, taunting him, battering him, reminding him of every single pain and injustice he's survived through. He expected her to spite him more than anyone else, but honestly wasn't expecting to be near dead the first time he left town in years. Two years of surviving the lottery seems to really have taken a toll on his luck pool. A painful memory like an icicle pierces Okto, and sorrow, loneliness, and the desire to give in fills his heart.

When the storm finally passes and Anders takes a look backward, Okto is lying on his back in the snow, with a shaky thumbs-up slowly rising into the air and a chipped tusk. Through sniffles and tears that, at this point, could be from either the cold or some inner struggle, Okto says, "Alive. Anyone else?"