(IC) Quickleaf's Rime of the Frostmaiden

[Quickleaf]

GM POST

Coughing slightly on her pipe at Lumrolur's sudden wracked voice nearby, the dwarf woman arches her brow. "I'll defer to Alma Ostergaard's expertise there," she nods toward the albino half-elf.

Snorting to herself, Hlin seems tempted to demonize Torrga Icevein further, but she relents. "If I were the one paying you... But the merchants want the killer brought to justice. They're not particular if that's dead or alive. There’s a half-elven merchant here in Bryn Shander named Rendaril whose shop is in the market center. He helped organize the purse."

"Other suspects... well, Torrga hires a motley crew as caravan guards, each likely fled other cities as criminals. Some come west from Hundlestone or Fireshear, others bear the tattoos of pirates, others still are malcontents of the Ten-Towns." She sucks in her cheek, realizing you were asking about others besides those associated with Torrga Icevein, then gives a shrug. "They were found dead with an ice dagger through their hearts - an ice dagger that doesn't melt. Could be followers of Auril are involved."

 

[happylace]

A half-elf woman sits silently beside Hlin as the party crowds around the table. She looks middle-aged, but bears no physical signs of rough living. Still, there is a gauntness to her features that implies the last few months have been less kind. Her expression is blank and difficult to read.
She's still dusting the snow and ice from her coat as she settles in, loosening the scarf previously pulled tight around her face. As she removes her hood, her light hair spills out in a long braid. She shivers, but takes the seat beside Hlin furthest from the fireplace.
As the dwarven woman sets out the map, her eyes are fixed on it. Following the curves of the roads and noting each location. Her eyes themselves are strange too. Maybe gold. Maybe silver. Almost white, whatever the hue. They only raise again as Hlin gestures to her.

She stares at the woman for a long moment. Then back down at the map.

Finally, for the first time since she arrived, she speaks. Her voice is quiet and slow, each word deliberate. ''One moment, please.''

( @Quickleaf should I roll Astronomy check or is there any information I would be able to gleam off the top of my head )

 

[Quickleaf]

GM: Nothing stands out at the moment in connection with the murder. Falling back on your topical knowledge... in the North this time of the year – Eternal Rime for the past two years – there are seven prominent constellations: Mystra's Star Circle, Lavarandar's Lantern, Arrows of the Gods (true east), Auroth the Ice Snake, Jassa's Dagger, Eyes of the Watching Woman (true west), and the Sleepless Knights. Auroth the Ice Snake has association with Auril the Frostmaiden, potentially having once been her ally or her mount.

 

[happylace]

Alma's eyes scan the map for several moments. She sits unnaturally straight, hands in her lap. Without a sound, she reaches up and drags a pale index finger along the road lines. Her fingertip glows a soft reddish pink and trails a Prestidigitated illusory line in its wake. When she's finished, her hand returns to her lap.

''These are the only correlations I can find to the murder locations. The handle of Jassa's Dagger and the shaft of one of the Arrows of the Gods. If this is related, it could mean Bremen, Good Mead, or Dougan's Hole are future targets. However,'' she looks back up at Hlin, ''It seems unlikely that this is connected. More likely a coincidence. I require more information.''

The illusioned lines begin to fade after a minute. In the meantime, she looks across at the rest of the table. ''It's polite to introduce oneself when meeting for the first time. You may refer to me as Alma Osteergard. Now provide your names.''

 

[Necropolitan]

Zeth Venagelida:

It was getting more and more crowded at the table. But an opportunity was an opportunity.

200 gold pieces was nothing to scoff at, even shared among however many individuals banded together to claim it. But if the unmelting ice daggers claim was true then the killer or killers had magic of their own.

Still, if Zeth joined this 'quest,' then a party made up of whoever survived it and proved useful could be exactly what he needed to salvage the mission he'd come from Luskan for. If he could not only succeed in what otherwise would have been total failure but supply a new asset in the form of an adventuring party then that could only help his advancement in his organization.

No reason to share all that with them though, keeping things need to know would serve him better here.

Pushing away his emptied dishes Zeth leans in.

"Find Torrga Icevein, figure out who the killer or killers among her followers are, eliminate them. Seems simple enough."

And it would be unlikely that deaths among Torrga's band of criminals would draw much official scrutiny. Assuming they could be subtle.

 

[domminniti]

Russet Ghostfur

The name's Russet
He looks around for any gleam of recognition. Tales of his band's heroism had spread far, but tales of his treachery had spread father. But there was no use hiding who he was, his kin were rare in these parts and his snow white fur was a giveaway to anyone who had heard the rumours. He did his best to look trustworthy and noble and tried to give a stately nod/bow, but went a little too far and toppled his ale, which was conveniently nearly empty. While mopping up the drink, apologising, he says:
I've picked up a thing or two about merchant caravans. When was each murder, how big is the caravan and what goods do they trade? Tracing out a star map with murders - great theory, Ms Osteergard! But let's rule out the boring one first.

I want to use what knowledge of the terrain and roadways, a skill I would have picked up praying on merchant caravans to rob to feed the poor, to figure out if the movements of the caravan are natural. Roll for whatever rolls you think are appropriate. And I will use a superiority dice for tactical assesment if possible.

Other PCs can decide what they know already of my backstory (see RG)

 

[happylace]

''Thank you, Russet,'' Alma returns. She doesn't make eye contact. Her attention is instead drawn to the knocked over mug. Without bothering to ask if he needs help, she waves her fingers. A thin, reddish film spreads over the mess as she casts Prestidigitation once more. When Russet wipes up the film, it disappears and the ale along with it.

There isn't any recognition at the name. But when he mentions caravans, there's a subtle tilt to her head. As though she's trying to recall something. There are dots here to connect. She can feel it scratching at the very back of her memories. Though it doesn't feel important enough to devote energy to right now.

 

[tglassy]

The old Mak would have stood at the table blank faced and uninterested, hearing of hold but having no earthly clue on how to find who did it. He’d have laughed and joked and made wagers on who’d find them first, not betting on himself because that was a losing bet.

But now, as the woman spoke, his mind churned with information and possibilities. The knowledge of centuries flowed easily through his mind, as if he’d studied in the greatest libraries of the world. They weren’t exactly memories. It was just knowledge. Sometimes he’d catch a glimpse of a time or a lecture, but he seemed to be able to pick the knowledge from the memories without actually living the memories themselves. It was a hells of a thing to experience.

And so as she talked, he analyzed. The correlation with the star maps was smart, but Max wasn’t entirely convinced. What really interested him was the method of the murder.

“Do you have one of these ice daggers? Maybe I could glean something from it.”

 

[Quickleaf]

GM POST

Hlin's eyes grey eyes scan the room as if making sure you've no eavesdroppers, before nodding to Russet's sensible question. She traces a vague course on the map as she speaks, "The glassblower in Termalaine about one month ago, the human shipbuilder in Targos three weeks ago, the halfling trapper in Easthaven a tenday ago, and the priest in Bryn Shander three days ago."

"Torg's has three dogsleds, one bearing the company's emblem: a gold wolf's paw on a black field. They unpack at each new destination, setting up crates and canopies, sometimes selling off the back of the sleds. Wood, flint and tinder, whale oil, blankets and furs, iron rations, bottles of icewine, casks of cheap ale, and purported medicines. I've also heard Torrga does brisk trade in poisons and stolen goods." She watches the wheels turning between Russet's ears, and wryly adds, "At markup, of course," before turning her attention to Mak.

The dwarf scowls, nodding her head to the bald ebony-skinned man, "I would have had two for comparison if Sheriff Markham wasn't an honest man actually doing his job. But I do have this..." She sets a pale brown oiled skin on the table, unfolding it to reveal a dagger made of ice with a thin layer of frost rolling off of it. The dagger is crudely made, lacking a cross-guard, and there is still a faint stain of red around the tip that has not gone away. "This is the blade that killed the dwarf Muirdohr Evenhand in Termalaine."

As a bounty hunter, Hlin seems to favor Zeth's assessment of the situation, nodding to him. But she awaits any other questions the group may have.

GM: Roadways roll for Russet with superiority die: 1D20+3+1D8 = [14]+3+[8] = 25 A few things leap out to Russet. If Termalaine, Targos, Bryn Shander, and Easthaven are the larger towns – which makes sense as they're the first towns along the main roadways – then it would make sense that a traveling caravan would stock up on goods in those larger towns, before heading to the smaller outlying ones to upsell at a profit. However, the caravan doubled back to Bryn Shander after visiting Easthaven – that's maybe a 14 miles trip (~3.5 hours by dogsled), not something to sneeze at. Either they must have had a good reason for coming back to Bryn Shander (as opposed to heading on to a smaller town like Caer-Dineval or Good Mead) or the caravan split up with some of the sleds returning to restock in Bryn Shander and some going on to a smaller town. Another thing to consider – while travel would be faster and more efficient on the roads, a dogsled is perfectly capable of navigating the tundra off-trail too. edit: And another thing to consider (the roll was really high) is the condition of the roads given the long winter that's blanketing the region. The main roads are fine, but what of the outlying roads/trails? That could have an impact on the caravan's travels. For example the Shaengarne Ford connecting Targos to Bremen? You've heard that has become harder to navigate after a recent blizzard. Btw, I think in the long run it may be too much burden on me to handle your rolls for you @domminniti – I'm tracking a bunch stuff as GM, and hunting down a PC's sheet, skill mod, and superiority die is a bit much – so in the future when you're wanting/thinking it's a good time to make a roll (and expend some superiority dice or something), you can just include that roll in your post. And I'll roll with it (sorry pun).

 

[Quickleaf]

GM: All the little folk in the party @Aethmud @VLAD the Destroyer @Neurotic, you have the sense that you're being watched. The three of you can make DC 15 Perception checks to try to figure out who is watching you. But ≤10 or less indicates they see you looking and conceal themself without you figuring who it was. If several of you roll, I'll take the average result in a sort of group check. Or you can have one of you Help the other. I believe Lumrolur (@Neurotic ) has the best Perception bonus out of the three of you.