[center][h3]Tora, Poppi, and Big Band[/h3]
[b]Location:[/b] Sandswept Sky - Split Mountain - Baur’s Reach
Level 9 Tora (114/90) Level 9 Poppi (114/90) Level 5 Big Band (53/50)
Midna’s [@DracoLunaris], Fox’s [@Dawnrider], Jesse’s [@Zoey Boey], Sectonia’s [@Archmage MC], Primrose and Therion’s [@Yankee], Yoshitsune and Sora’s [@Rockin Strings], Mao’s [@Potemking], Laharl’s [@Dark Cloud], Raz’s [@TruthHurts22], Ellie’s [@Thatguyinastore]
[b]Word Count:[/b] 1724[/center]

As the soft snowdrifts and picturesque sleepy woodland of Baur’s reach gave way to ever more hazardous and uneven terrain, the merry band of seekers steadily drifted further apart. It was a naturally and subtly induced eventuality, borne of such simple and unspoken assumptions like the desire to not get in one another’s way, to not overtax already burdened means of traversal like loose rocks, breakable ice, or cold-stiffened branches, or even the hard-to-suppress childlike urge to tramp upon untouched snow. Other than designated comrades like the Phantom Thieves, the Tora Poppi duo, and the paired travelers Primrose and Therion, they made no particular efforts to clump back together, either. Although nobody could say that the going was either easy or comfortable, the relative lack of danger and difficulty made Big Band’s warnings begin to look rather like paranoia, and besides, most of those present had every reason to be confident in both themselves and one another. What seasoned fighter, after all, could be defeated by a little cold and rough terrain?

Bit by bit, however, Baur’s reach put its visitors’ self-assurance and lack of coordination to the test. It took firsthand experience to realize that the jaw plants grew not just on trees and rocks, but beneath the snow, too, and they closed like bear traps. The slender lures of angler plants, so easily mistaken for meltwater, caught more than one unwary adventurer even after the example set by Tora. Snow covered thinly frozen ponds here and there, with only the flatness of the area hinting at the danger, and any foot that went through the ice demanded immediate attention. 

Once isolated, often out of sight of one another, the Seekers found it more troublesome to pick fights with the locals, too. The Snowmads and the wildlife, adapted for the environment, shrugged off the conditions that the newcomers struggled through, and knew the area like the backs of their proverbial hands. Once the Phantom Thieves realized how much more trouble the encounters were than they were worth, they elected to avoid battles completely, instead trusting in stealth to get them past the odd camp that lay in their path. Higher up in the Reach, [url=https://i.imgur.com/2XCfN2m.png]Dirt Divers[/url] began to appear as well, bursting up from the ground in potent surprise attacks only to disappear below again just as quickly.

Not even the fliers got off scot-free; thorn-covered branches and dangerously sharp icicles plagued their every motion, with the beat of wings and the wind of one’s passage liable to disturb the piled snow that blanketed coniferous boughs and send down pillowy masses weighing hundreds of pounds. If they chose to forsake the snowy forests and heights of the Reach, they would find that the howling wind above the treetops made it a fight for every meter. Whether or not that seemed like a fair price to pay was a choice left to them.

Sooner or later, the nature of the trial they had undertaken dawned on just about everyone. They knew that this mountain climb would be neither easy nor simple, and now they were finding out why. By the time the heroes racked up an hour and a quarter in the Reach, their chipper journey had become a slog, substantially more difficult than the trek up through Redstone City. Though not a disaster or anything, it left each and every Seeker worse for wear. Numb extremities, chapped lips, fatigue, clothes dampened by snow that body heat melted, and throats roughened by hyperventilation of frigid air were commonplace. Long past the last stubborn redwood that watched over its fair-weather brethren like a lone sentinel, up where the pines thinned out and the olive trees withered, the group came to a stop and gradually gathered on the ridge where Midna espied the strange sight of warped man in a prison of iron.

Gémino made for a dreadful sight, to put it mildly. Immobile but for the free arm that protruded so unsettlingly from an opening in the statue’s midsection, he was totally at the mercy of both the elements and the fetters that bound him, so artfully engineered for the purpose of exquisite torment. Yet he was alive, as the eye contact he shared with Jesse proved. When the Twilight Princess moved to aid him, her little hands sliding across the metal in search of openings, his free arm bade her stop. “Oh, do not fret for me,” he told her, his voice a plaintive moan. “The cold is merciful, for it relieves our pain and numbs us before it leads us to our deaths. Perhaps the Miracle that others spoke of has come to me, here in this iron tomb, lengthening distress more and more…”

Big Band ceased dusting snow from his trench coat to tug at his collar, uncomfortable. Despite his incredibly unenviable situation, this poor soul sounded anything but distressed; in fact, he seemed oddly at peace with the grisly fate that appeared to have befallen him. Probably for the best, Band figured, since anyone could tell that this man’s days were numbered. Still, his pleas for Midna and the other heroes to leave him alone likely fell on deaf ears, since who among them could possibly accept someone suffering like this, and turn a blind eye to such a cruel display?

“‘Scuse me for puttin’ it bluntly, but you can’t be serious,” Band objected with an incredulous shake of his head. “You’re really okay goin’ out like this?”

“Naught could be more immaterial than my feelings on the matter,” the prisoner decreed.

“But…surely there something we can do to help?” Tora asked, his dark eyes full of sorrow. “Food, water, little heat maybe?”

“These remains would feel no such succor,” Gémino mourned. “Yet, there is something. Let me ask you the favor of bringing me a few drops of the oils that once came out of these icy olive trees, the ones that ended up scorching the faces of every pious person who ever reached the place where the frozen and the burning embrace in communion.” Gémino looked off into the distance, his eyelashes heavy with frost. “As my last wish, before it is too late for me, let me feel that pain.”

From his hand he dropped a small object that shone bright in the afternoon sunlight before it disappeared into the snow at his feet. A little digging turned up a golden thimble, tiny but beautiful–the vessel for the oil Gémino desired.

“Now, let my numbed arm become another branch on this withered olive tree,” the prisoner murmured. “Hurry up. I can still hear the call.”

Further communication proved useless, despite Tora’s best attempts, so with everyone now gathered from their divergent routes across the Reach there was little to do but press on. Not long after leaving Gémino and the trees behind, the way narrowed along the mountainside, and the heroes found the semblance of a path carved into the stone. Following it upward for another ten minutes or so through the biting wind brought them to the steps of an imposing stone brick structure nestled among the crags. It bore neither fortifications nor guards, which to Band suggested that it wasn’t a military structure. An empty chest lay at the foot of the stairs, surrounded by various meager offerings. When the group’s frontrunners climbed the steps and pushed on the place’s iron doors, they encountered no more resistance than their weight.

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/yOAm3jI.png[/img][/center]

Inside the Seekers discovered a shelter fully outfitted with furniture, from bookshelves and urns to tables and chairs to hearths that blazed with delightful warmth. So too did they find company when a number of curious, wrinkled faces turned their way. Scattered around the place was a cadre of [url=https://i.imgur.com/x9crNUt.png]hooded elders[/url], and though they scrutinized the newcomers thoroughly, not one of them said a word. After a moment some even returned to their various activities, including reading and some form of worship. One, however, strode the Seekers’ way. His concerned gaze lingered for a moment on the Phantom Thieves, Raz, and other young members, their presence constituted an irresponsible mistake on someone’s part.

“Good day to you, travelers, and welcome to our sanctuary,” he told the team. “I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards. We will not question your coming, but if you come in peace, the hospitality of High Hrothgar is yours.”

Band took his hat off with a mechanical arm and gave a nod of gratitude. “Thank you kindly, mister. After wadin’ through all that ice an’ snow,’ a li’l hospitality is sorely needed.” He took another look around, searching for anything of note, but as far as the detective could see the Greybeards practiced rather ascetic lives. “We’re climbin’ the mountain, headin’ for the summit. Don’t suppose you got any advice?”

The news weighed on Arngeir, prompting a look of mixed worry and surprise. “The summit? And with so many? ‘Tis certainly no journey for the faint of heart. Rather than scale the icy stone, you would be better served by braving the Inner-Mountain. The tunnel lies just beyond this place, on the right. Find and repair the lift, and if your collective weight is not too great, you may enjoy swift egress from the interior.”

“Repair what Tora do best, meh!” the snow-sprinkled Nopon chirped, waving his wrench around. “Other than eat, sleep, invent, play Tiger-Tiger, upgrade Poppi…list go on.”

Arngeir’s brow furrowed. “Be warned, however. While the Inner-Mountain will hinder you with neither wind nor snow, it is a place that has never known warmth.”

“We hear ya,” Band assured him, and with a nod the Greybeard left the newcomers in peace. The detective looked around at the group, making sure that nobody was missing. “Let’s make sure we’re warm an’ dry. Might also be your last chance to think about whether or not ya really wanna be doin’ this. No shame headin’ back down with a glider now and backin’ us up later.” Peacock opened her mouth for a rebuttal, but Band rolled right over her. “Now, I ain’t sayin’ we’ve got any weak links here or nothin’. Just think about it. If you’re down, meet out back in half an hour.”

Poppi nodded. “Roger, roger!”

With that, the team dispersed. Whether they chose to park themselves by various fires or explore High Hrothgar, the heroes had thirty minutes to recuperate while they made their decisions.