The Contact (RP)

"The path? It's just over there." Olaf says confidently, trying to push his way through thick bushes one-handed.

Olaf stops and stares at Norbert for a moment, then turns to the other two. "Is he mad?" He as quietly, sounding genuinely concerned rather than accusatory. "I told him there was something big and dangerous out there in the dark." He shrugs and turns back towards 'home'. "I always said shepherds spend too much time outside, the brains leak out into the sky."

True to his word, he starts moving towards his presumed path --at first forgetting and reaching with injured hand, and filling the night with swearing. "Do what you want." He says, sounding angry again, unless it is the pain. "I have beer at home.".

Nothing you have said has persuaded him to stay out here in the rain all night. He is confident there is a path up ahead. What does Fate say?

"Ah, there it is." Olaf declares a moment later. "Come on, this way."

"Path!" Olaf shouts, waving his hand and getting annoyed. "What do you call this?" There is indeed what could be a path stretching to the left and right.

He looks at Albert suspiciously. "Why are you people all trying to stop me from going home?" He asks.

- Albert -

Olaf seems a bit mollified by your excuse of 'personal weakness', and is prepared to wait a few moments for the others to catch up if they want.

"What? No. I just heard it right now, before..." He slows to think. "...before it attacked me and knocked me over. That's how I cut my hand." He explains.

Olaf grunts in acknowledgement, then squints left and right down the path. Neither direction heads towards where you think his home is, but paths are know to meander. After no time at all Olaf turns left and starts walking as quickly as the dark and slippery path allows.

The moon has set while you talked, and the sky is a uniform grey. At least the rain has stopped. Those of you who have spent much time outdoors know that, if the cloud cover lifts, the temperature will drop precipitously, and, as the famous saying goes: "it is always coldest right before the dawn". If you can't get dry before then, you may be in danger.

But, if Olaf is right, a warm barn lays in wait at the end of his path...

---

"It should be just around that corner." Olaf say --not for the first time-- after more than an hour of walking.

Even with the added slowness due to the lack of light you should have been getting close, or at least have recognised something from your trip here. But did anyone think to look behind them on the way out? Each landmark looks different from the other side. Turning around now does not help much since you might have just missed something that would have been recognisable.

Olaf's mood has not improved. Does anyone feel like returning to the topic of stopping? It might be just around that corner.

"It's cold, and wet." Olaf says, rubbing his hands and arms to 'warm' them. He stops to watch Roald gather wood, but his expression is dubious. You get the impression that unless you are able to get a fire going Olaf will decide against staying, but the fact that he even stopped means he probably also thinks you are lost --though he is not admitting it yet.

Norbert's clever kindling catches fire and smoke billows from the pile. The driest twigs and small branches catch, but there is very little wood that has not been wet by the heavy rains, in order to dry out enough wood for later you will need to stack it around the fire, stealing much of the heat it generates.

Until you can get to using that dried wood there is a lot of smoke and Olaf grunts disapprovingly as he states at the campsite that has been made. It is not yet pleasant and the wind seems to blow the smoke right at anyone who tries to come near.

Given time this could be quite cheery, but right now it is just more miserable.

What do you do?

- Albert -

You can see Olaf's first instinct to say 'it's nothing' warring with his pain, but he grudgingly agrees. "It's nothing much." He says stoically as he shows you his hand. "It's mostly gone numb now anyway."

It should be easy to light a torch from the fire if you want enough light to see properly --though your lack of actual training means you might not actually need to see at all to do what you do.

The water running down and dripping off his elbow is tinted dark with blood, the wet has stopped the wound from clotting and it is still slowly oozing blood. The glass of his lantern cut into the webbing between his thumb and the rest of his hand, across his palm and down to his wrist.

What do you do?

Fate brittle as glass...