The party has made their way from the keep, traveling NW across the wintery tundra to find the Northwest Bandit camp. They found the camp.

Royce fled into the trees, masking himself with his chameleon ring and blending into the underbrush as the guard chased him. Once the guard sprinted past, Royce circled back, leading him deeper into the forest—straight into Klondike’s waiting jaws. The winter wolf left little behind but blood and footprints. Royce, shifting into a guard disguise, rejoined the patrol that had left the fort and began shouting about a wolf attack, helping them search for the very creature he had unleashed. After hours of fruitless hunting, the patrol returned to the fort, unaware that their numbers had already quietly diminished.

Meanwhile, Morpho navigated a long, hidden arc through the woods to slip into Royce’s vantage point unseen. Through their telepathic link, Raha monitored everything happening in real time and passed information to the rest of the party. With the camp on edge and the poison set to work overnight, the group moved in from the south under cover of darkness, keeping a safe distance while settling down quietly for the night. Before rejoining Royce, Morpho dragged the poisoned corpse from the river to dispose of any evidence. As dawn broke, the camp stirred—weak, hungry, and completely unaware of the storm about to hit.

Morning comes ... the bandits wake and begin taking breakfast. It becomes apparent quickly they are poisoned a few begin choking and collapsing.

The luck bandits begins scurrying, looking for their intruder.

This is the trigger when the party attacks!

To be continued ...