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Turok quickly lowers the torch and extinguishes it in the snow, using his peripheral vision to try and catch a glimpse of the owner of the voice.
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The warning comes from Auzi. He releases his grip, motioning off through the woods ahead.
Turok can make out half a dozen beastmen in chain gathered around a small campfire. They eat and draw deep from wineskins. The sharp wind carries wisps of their boasts and laughter and the sweet scent of their cooked meats. "A band of her beasts. They block our path."
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Iron Ranger wrote:
"A band of her beasts. They block our path."
"What should we do? You seem to have more experience dealing with them.
I don't shy away from a fight ... but a good fight would be better on our terms ... Have you more magic?
My spirits have only granted me healing spells."
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"My arts work best when passed skin to skin. Maybe if we could manage to get a little closer."
He casts a sideeye at the Shaman's metal stick.
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Turok nods in agreement and hunkers down, with a whisper, "Just how close is close?"
Turok does his best to keep the handle of the warclub from freezing.
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"We need to get to the other side of their camp, the creek might hold us if we go around. Or we can try to take them by surprise."
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"I have nothing but healing magics, however there is this..."
Turok pulls out the metal rod and hands it to Auzi.
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Auzi carefully handles the rod. "Ah where did you acquire this?"
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[ really don't remember ]