[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=6ecff6][center]Updates[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[b][color=6ecff6]Season:[/color][/b] Late Fall/Early Winter
[b][color=6ecff6]Time Of Day:[/color][/b] Night, middle of
[b][color=6ecff6]Weather:[/color][/b] Cool and damp, with a clear, open sky
[b][color=6ecff6]General Ambiance:[/color][/b] Sticky  
[b][color=6ecff6]Location:[/color][/b] Front lines, defending the Orc Cave
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[u]Specific Resolutions:[/u]

[i]Calanon:[/i] The Elk moves in an unerring path to Sana, as a well-trained mount does. The well-trained Dire Wolf, however, does not move from Sana's side. Given the option of plowing into its natural predator or avoiding it altogether, Mr. Elk rears and cuts to the side, unceremoniously depositing Calanon on the hard earth below. When he gets his wind back, he might find his bow skidding near the entrance of the cave. 

[i]Satilla:[/i] Is confident that the situation has been observed to the best of her ability, and is able to heal when positioned.  

[i]Ntaj:[/i] The flail bashes into the tendril extending to Sana quite effectively. It recoils reflexively, as if it had touched a hot iron. 

[i]Keystone:[/i] Gets a handful of the slippery creature and [i]yanks[/i]. The other hand can't seem to catch the wispy nature of the Mist, but his one-handed grip is strong enough to arrest the creature's movement. 

[i]Thomas:[/i] Keystone hears Thomas's query about an airtight vessel, and looks over at him like he has bats flying out of his ears. He motions his head at the creature as if to indicate that he was a little busy. 

[i]Lerraina:[/i] The arrow strikes solidly (or at least as solidly as it can, considering). It slows down considerably as it disrupts the red swirly currents inside the Mist. At this moment it begins to move sluggishly, as a person might were they suddenly becoming physically exhausted. The birdie cannot find its mark on the first pass, but neither does the creature get a piece of the bird.

[i]Cyneburg:[/i] Has got her footing and locates her axe between her current position and the rest of the group. Free action to snatch it up on the way. 

[i]Kyra:[/i] Gets off both shots. One passes through without causing any distress, the other sticks in and flows through like it struck thick gel. Mist isn't very happy. 

[i]Sana:[/i] The spell goes off. Any injuries afflicting party begin to knit and restore. (Moderate wounds and lesser, in any case, but no one in the party has suffered a more damaging wound than that. Even Keystone.) The bad news: Between the drain of casting this one and the hypothermia, Sana is out. Not dead, but quite unconscious.


[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=6ecff6][center]New Round[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][hr]

	The Crimson Mist appears to be slowing, its form a series of tiny, static disruptions. It struggles to free itself from the grip of the unarmed Keystone, but does not appear strong enough to budge the man, let alone escape his grasp. Oddly, it looks confused about the whole situation. As the various weapons tear into it, the jolting realization spreads across its face that it is, in fact, not impervious to the attacks of these people. Maybe the Orcs, but the party of smaller creatures are giving it more difficulty than for which it had bargained. 

	The brighter spots of its eyes search for an exit, and it attempts wildly to move upward, away from the group. Even if it has to take its captor along for the ride. It is unsuccessful in the first couple of seconds, but it is a slippery, semi-corporeal creature. It's only a matter of time before it gets free. 

	Outside of the ice wall, the fallen Orcs begin to twitch and shuffle ever so slightly. Slowly, the first ones to die begin to stand, slack-jawed and bloodless. Obviously fatal wounds decorate a few of them, including exploded pieces of bone from the first waves of the attack jutting from eye sockets and lungs. They do not look about with their blank, fixed eyes, but merely heave themselves to an upright position and begin walking absently away from the site of the battle.