De Camino et Virtus Bellorum

"Well it looks like we have a new challenge then." Phil says, drawing his blade.

Bjorn pulls out his blades as well

"Son of a bitch..." Scot muttered, as the dragon's jaws lunged down at Phil.

The Greek airman turned to roll away...only to slip on a patch of ice. Which is to say the ground, given the conditions. As the dragon's head bore down on him, Bjorn took to the air, his maneuver gear hooking onto the spires around the courtyard and slinging him up and around the dragon. The hooks on the end of its cables managed to snag the ice-dragon's neck, pulling it back from the luckless Greek and lashing it firmly to an icy pillar, opening it up to attack. The two De Vils decided not to bother with their revolvers and just sprinted for the door as the Jotun moved to block their way.

"Attack now!!!!" Bjorn screams

PHil gets up and leaps at the dragon, aiming for the underside with a flying kick.

"Don't stop till its shattered"

The ice dragon took Phil's attack straight in the gullet, knocking the entire beast back into the wall and nearly knocking Bjorn off of said wall. The gargantuan construct bellowed, straining against Bjorn's cables and nearly breaking free.

"This thing is not going to stay here long!" Bjorn says

Even as he was saying that, the beast lunged forward. The pillars of ice the cables were wrapped around cracked and in some places fragmented entirely, throwing Bjorn off the wall to hang by his gear as the dragon's jaws headed for Phil.

Phil leaps out of the way of the dragon's gnashing teeth and goes for another punch to the bridge of it's nose.

Bjorn gathers himself together and tries to look for a weak spot on the beast

Phil's fist promptly caved in the dragon's skull, ice splintering like glass under his fist...only to begin reforming seconds later, snow hardening to crystalline skeletal ice as the beast regenerated.

The two De Vils, smartly out-maneuvering the Beastmaster, were heading for the gate, this time a heavy ice portcullis.

"Oh Come ON that thing can regenerate"

Phil saw where the De Vils were headed and came to the same conclusion. He waved to catch Bjorn's attention. "Get ready to run!" he bellowed up in Norwegian. Grasping the dragon's regenerating jaws in either hand, he yanked the still not-fully-formed head clean off and pitched it across the courtyard. That didn't kill either part of the dragon but it should inconvenience it long enough.

Raising his voice to be heard over the Beastmaster's agonized roaring (the De Vil twins having just discharged both revolvers into the Jotun's eyes), he turned to order the remaining personnel (Merlin, Scot, Octavion and Anastasia) to run in English. "Move! Get going!"

He promptly took his own advice, sprinting to the portcullis and hooking one hand under the bars. Almost casually, he threw the icy gate open, the portcullis slamming back up through the doorway hard enough that it broke through the top of the archway and lodged there.

Bjorn got the message and used his gear to get the heck out of there

Phil bolts out of the Portcullis and is running with the rest of the group. "So, back to the ships then?" he asks the others.

"No. We're finding the Exile."

After the portcullis came a set of huge doors, set into a stunningly beautiful wall of crystalline ice that sparkled even in the thick snow. They weren't locked, and upon entry, they were treated to what looked like the foyer of an enormous castle, buried beneath the snow in such a way as to look like the mountain itself. Jutting ice spikes sticking up above the thick layer of snow caught light and refracted it down so it shone in brilliant points from dangling ice chandeliers and ice lamps sticking out from the walls.

Bjorn looked around "This is a beautiful places"

"We could appreciate the architecture later when we're not being chased by a dragon." Phil says, looking over his shoulder.

"Good point" Bjorn says running after him

The dragon in question - and its Jotun handler - hadn't bothered coming in. Not that either could fit through the doorway, but after five minutes of confused running they found themselves lacking pursuers. The room they were in now was an elegant ballroom, even more beautiful than the foyer. A cylinder of transparent ice at one end of the room contained a spiral staircase leading to a balcony that overlooked the room, and exquisitely detailed statues twice life-size rimmed the dance floor - an immense cherry tree in full bloom, a wolf howling at a moon suspended from the ceiling, an armored knight on a snow-white horse.

Bjorn looked around "Well either those big guys are really good at making art or we have a sculpture on our hands"

"It would seem the Exile has taken up sculpture as a hobby." Vincent (or Rupert) remarked wryly, looking up at the tree sculpture.

Bjorn looks at the ice sculpture again "I got to say these are the best I've seen"

"I have to agree, granted I haven't seen many ice sculptures but even so."