Play@YSDC

From inside the tent, if such it be, comes a sound of chanting in a man's voice. This goes on for some time. There is no other effect, the wind and extreme cold continuing as before.

Reverend Trask waits for Nathan to signal him or to report what he has seen.

Returning quietly to where Reverend Trask awaits, Nathan reports that, as is not unexpected, the structure is inhabited by a family of the aboriginal inhabitants of the area, man, woman, and child. They do not appear aggressive; if anything, they seem frightened. The woman and child were simply but warmly dressed in furs, but the man wore all manner of decorations over his own clothing; feathers, the claws of animals, the skulls of small birds, and so forth.

2d20

Both men, having some knowledge of those who dwelt in these lands before the arrival of Europeans, recognize the man's outfit as that worn by one who practices the magical arts of his people.

"Shall we go introduce ourselves?" asks Reverend Trask. "They may know more than we do about the situation."

Nearing the structure in such manner as to make their approach obvious, with gently spoken words of greeting, Forbes and Trask see the man emerge, holding his hands out, as if to reveal that he is without weapons.

"I understand the speech of the Englishmen," he says. "What is it you wish with us?"

"I am Reverend Orville Trask," says Reverend Trask, displaying his own empty hands, "and this is Nathan Forbes. A stranger died suddenly, and she came from this direction. We were hoping you might know who she was. I also sensed a wicked presence that may have played a part in her death, and I sensed it near here as well." He describes the woman.

"I know not of such a white woman," he says. "But I understand the evil you mean. This wind, this snow, this great cold; they are the breath of the wendigo. If it cannot be destroyed, many more will die."

"We should work together to defeat the wendigo," says Reverend Trask. "I think it is too powerful for either of us to destroy it working alone. What do you know about it, and do you know how we can destroy it?"

"It is a fearsome spirit, often taking the form of a gigantic, gaunt man, hideous in appearance, its rotting skin stretched tight over its bones, like a thing recently dead. It carries the killing cold where it walks, feeds upon the living, and is never sated.

"I have failed to drive it away with my medicine, which means that some wicked sorcerer has called it into being. It may only be destroyed by cutting out its heart and feeding it to the flames, as fire is its greatest enemy. To do such a thing is a great danger."

"Nonetheless, we must take the risk," says Reverend Trask. "We have silver daggers, and we can make or find torches and larger fires. I tried and failed to drive it away myself, so it seems we shall have to face it in battle and do as you suggest."

"So be it. Let us wait until daybreak, for to track the wendigo in the darkness would be certain death. For the night, you are my guests."

Inviting the two men into his modest shelter, the fellow offers such plain hospitality as may be found in such surroundings. The presence of the two guests elicits much interest on the part of wife and child, although this is mixed with a kind of deferential shyness.

"Thank you for your hospitality," says Reverend Trask. "Perhaps tomorrow we can try again to banish the wendigo, and only if that fails will we need to face it in battle. Tell me, have you heard the word of the Lord?"

"I know the names by which the white man calls the Great Spirit. I know also that they call the lesser spirits by such names as 'angels' and 'demons.' Perhaps we speak of the same things."

After as restful a night as possible, the next morning is very cold, but still and clear, without a trace of wind or a cloud in the sky.

"It will be difficult to track the wendigo at such a time, but it must be done now, before it sets out on its bloody path again."

"Yes, let us do so," says Reverend Trask. "If it has left a trail of destruction, at least that will make it easier to find."

The shaman's attempt to track, giving him that skill.d20

Using his knowledge of the wilderness, and perhaps some other, unseen skill, the man leads his two companions deep into the woods, to where ancient trees, not yet harvested to build ships or houses, have been left undisturbed. As is often true on bright days in winter, it is bitterly cold; their host has provided his guests with heavy furs to protect them from freezing to death. Step by weary step they plod on, with no obvious goal in mind, until the guide stops and raises his hand.

"It is near. Prepare yourselves."

As he readies his bow and arrow, the eerie stillness is replaced by a howling wind, driving snow from the trees and up from the ground, so that the hunters are nearly blinded.

"Torches at the ready, everyone," says Reverend Trask, lighting his own and starting to pray. "It is coming."

If enough time has passed, I'll use Exorcism again.

Its attempt to resist. It has WIS = 12 (like a Ghoulish Revenant)d20

The air is filled with a ear-splitting howl, that is followed by total silence. The guide lowers his weapon.

"Good. The Great Spirit has driven it away. But we must find the one who called it from the spirit world, or worse will follow.

"There are few of my people left, and I know of none who possess such evil medicine. Is there such a one in the white man's village?"

"It is quite possible," says Reverend Trask. "There was a witch, but we are certain she was destroyed. Still, there may be others with evil power in town. We shall have to go there and root out whoever called forth the wendigo."

"So be it. I am not likely to be welcome in the great village of the white men, but come to my wigwam if you seek advice."

Making their farewells, the hunters return to the more civilized environs of Collinsport. What a contrast to the snowy wilderness is the warm and inviting interior of the mansion, sparkling with candlelight! The guests at the party have long taken their leave, no doubt in a frightened and melancholy mood after the previous night's horrifying events, but the Collins, the DuPres's, and their relations and servants remain, notably Barnabas Collins, who had not gone back to his lonely exile at the Old House. There is much concern from those present as to what the adventurous pair, so long absent, have discovered.

"We met up with an Indian medicine man," explains Reverend Trask. "Working together, we were able to call on the power of the Lord to banish the wendigo, which was the source of the evil. However, someone wicked has called forth the wendigo and is still a threat. Another witch, or perhaps a warlock, the male equivalent. We will have to find and stop this evildoer before more evil comes. We should start by finding out if there are any new arrivals in Collinsport."