(IC) Quickleaf's Rime of the Frostmaiden

[Neurotic]

Lumrolur joined the group ready to share his findings when he hears Oscars explanation. "This job was done in pitch black in the middle of the storm. It took someone with relentless endurance, darkvision and a job to do. This wasn't impulsive thing. Let me see if I can the orc is going."
He tries to spot the culprit or at least recognize which set of footprints to follow. Instinctively, he fades into shadows and snow as he leaves the shelter of the inn.

"Hah! You're too late. Idiot. You should have killed him immediately. All of them."
"Quiet! Vorr. There was nothing to be done. Not all brutes are villains."
"Ahem, when I joined with the host, I didn't realize I won't be alone. My name is..."
Lumrolur is distracted for a moment with the voices in his head. He tunes them out by long habit. Usually there is nothing there worth listening to.

neurotic: D20 + 7#lumrolurstealthtofollowtheorc → 23(16 + 7)#Lumrolur stealth to follow the orc
neurotic: D20 + 6#lumrolurperceptiontofollowtheorc → 10(4 + 6)#Lumrolur perception to follow the orc

 

[Quickleaf]

Finally, Jack dramatically whispers, "But danger was not done with our little hero yet! One day, the bear found himself trapped on thin ice…" He waves his fingers, and thin cracks of ice appear beneath the bear. The children lean in anxiously.

"What happened next?" asks one of the kids, eyes wide.

Jack smiles gently, motioning toward the children. "That's where you come in! Can you brave adventurers rescue him?"

Giggling, the youngest child carefully reaches in, picking up the toy bear, and triumphantly raises it above her head. "We saved him!"

"You're heroes!" Jack cheers, clapping enthusiastically. "I knew you could do it!"

Even as he laughs and engages warmly with the children, Jack carefully keeps one eye and ear tuned to the rest of the room, attempting to observe the half-orc's restless movements, the half-elven woman's worried scribbling, and the muffled voices from the cellar. Jack is so enrapt in the pretend play, though, that he might have managed to distract himself.

Jack's attention is quite diverted by the illusory tale of the polar bear he artfully weaves for the three children. Thankfully, his companions have their wits about them. Alma is able to engage with the half-elven woman pouring over a journal, bonding in shared scholarly eccentricities.

"A real snow fairy! You're not made of magic too are ye?" inquires the youngest child as they wave their hand fascinated through the shimmering illusion of snowflakes. "Oo, tell him about the snowman, the snowman Darmo, tell him about the-"

The eldest boy raises his brows and leans forward to speak to Jack in a subdued tone, "The sledding hill we go to," he gestures south, "it's where we're supposed to check the rabbit traps. Well, a few weeks ago, we saw a snowman. Every couple days, we'd see it with a pipe, then a button nose, two eyes made of coal... But it's... changing... there's something fearful about it..." Getting his courage up, the boy whispers, "Last we saw it had a blood red scarf... and all our rabbit traps were empty... and we found fur near the snowman!"

 

[Quickleaf]

GM POST

Lumrolur joined the group ready to share his findings when he hears Oscars explanation. "This job was done in pitch black in the middle of the storm. It took someone with relentless endurance, darkvision and a job to do. This wasn't impulsive thing. Let me see if I can the orc is going."
He tries to spot the culprit or at least recognize which set of footprints to follow. Instinctively, he fades into shadows and snow as he leaves the shelter of the inn.

"Hah! You're too late. Idiot. You should have killed him immediately. All of them."
"Quiet! Vorr. There was nothing to be done. Not all brutes are villains."
"Ahem, when I joined with the host, I didn't realize I won't be alone. My name is..."
Lumrolur is distracted for a moment with the voices in his head. He tunes them out by long habit. Usually there is nothing there worth listening to.

neurotic: D20 + 7#lumrolurstealthtofollowtheorc → 23(16 + 7)#Lumrolur stealth to follow the orc
neurotic: D20 + 6#lumrolurperceptiontofollowtheorc → 10(4 + 6)#Lumrolur perception to follow the orc

Spoiler: Map of Termalaine

Fresh snow makes for easy tracking, as Lumrolur follows the deep shuffling boot prints, finally catching up to the lumbering half-orc. A shadow in the bluish gloom, Lumrolur follows at a safe distance like a shadow on the timber and stone buildings sagging under recent snows.

You track the half-orc to a caravan of dog sleds outside a dingy little tavern called "The Blue Clam" perched on the ice-wracked shores of Maer Dualdon. While keeping a safe distance prevents you from eavesdropping, it's clear the half-orc is sharing concerns that a group might be looking for them.

The caravan includes two 4-person sleds weighed down with supplies, one 2-person sled with a flag displaying an emblem: a gold wolf's paw on a black field. Grey, white, and brown sled dogs yap and paw anxiously, sensing they're about to disembark. A hard-jawed dwarven woman bundled in furs – this must be Torrga – barks order to five men (including the arriving half-orc), readying the caravan to travel north to Lonelywood.

By the looks of things, they'll be ready to go within the hour!

You get a quick look at the five men:

• A lean man with dark hair pulled back in a small ponytail, underdressed for the cold in clothes more suiting a northern sailor, secures straps on the supplies. He looks like he's working off a hangover and is unarmed.
• Receiving a tossed waxed linen bundle holding a ham hock from the half-orc, a beady eyed man with light crossbow slung over his shoulder pulls down his scarf to take a hungry bite. He keeps his bolts readied in a tight case at the front of his body for quick access.
• A bearded Reghed tribesman with a scar across his upper cheek secures the harnesses around the sled dogs. The javelins strapped to his back all are tied with straps of fabric to serve as a launching-aid for power and distance.
• The lumbering half-orc is given wide berth by the others, avoiding eye contact. However the half-orc repeatedly glances at the windows of "The Blue Clam" behind which another half-orc man is standing with crossed arms.
• A sharp eyed man with a stocking cap and one green glove on his left hand, takes up watch over the staging grounds for the caravan. He holds a short bow, without any arrow nocked, and surreptitiously looks over his shoulder... yet failing to spot you whatsoever... so far... it's clear he's actively looking for danger...

 

[Aethmud]

"A real snow fairy! You're not made of magic too are ye?" inquires the youngest child as they wave their hand fascinated through the shimmering illusion of snowflakes. "Oo, tell him about the snowman, the snowman Darmo, tell him about the-"

The eldest boy raises his brows and leans forward to speak to Jack in a subdued tone, "The sledding hill we go to," he gestures south, "it's where we're supposed to check the rabbit traps. Well, a few weeks ago, we saw a snowman. Every couple days, we'd see it with a pipe, then a button nose, two eyes made of coal... But it's... changing... there's something fearful about it..." Getting his courage up, the boy whispers, "Last we saw it had a blood red scarf... and all our rabbit traps were empty... and we found fur near the snowman!"

Jack gins widely at the little tyke, chuckling, "You noticed! Yes, I'm magic through and through. Well, mostly magic. There's also a bit of laughter from a dancing snowflake, half a hiccup from a squirrel, a smidgen of nonsense, and two and a third sneezes from a sleepy dragonfly." He winks at the eldest child as he adds, "Oh yes, a pinch of rainbow shadow too. I always forget that bit."

He reaches behind the young child's ear and seems to grasp something hidden there, then reveals a luminescent wisp of a dragonfly in his palm. Taking the child's hand, Jack coaxes the ghostly insect to crawl in, and it circles about, inhales sharply a few times as though it were about to sneeze, and nestles down for a nap. Jack grasps the child's other hand and places it on top to make a cupped shelter for the illusory dragonfly. "You keep this one safe, now, child."

"A sneaky snowman, you say? Sounds ominous." Jack's eyebrows furrow and his eyes narrow into a much more serious demeanor. "Y'know kids, I've never had a chance to tell anyone about this before but, you see, back in the Feywild, we once had a scandal when a naughty dryad enchanted an entire orchard of snow-covered apple trees, and the apples started hurling icicles at travelers. One poor family of rabbits even had their hats knocked right off their heads!"

"But your situation sounds much more dire indeed! Let me teach you a song." Jack proceeds to teach the children a song about stranger danger at magical sledding hills:

Beware the Snowman,
For the rabbit traps lie bare,
Just some scattered fur, and the rumors stir—
Children, stay away from there!

Beware the Snowman,
He awakens in the snow,
With his pipe alight, he stalks the night,
And his hunger seems to grow.

Thumpity-thump-thump,
Thumpity-thump-thump,
Footprints in the frost.
Thumpity-thump-thump,
Thumpity-thump, Count
The rabbits, some are lost!

The children start to squirm and grimace, and Jack's song is plainly too on the nose for them. Recognizing their unease, he laughs and claps a hand on the eldest child's shoulder, explaining, "You must be careful about going to that hill only in broad daylight for the time being, children, and not by yourselves! Bring someone with you. But do not fret, our song does yet have a good ending too."

Gathered the townsfolk,
With adventurers in tow,
With torches bright, they faced the fright,
And they melted down their foe!

Thumpity thump-thump,
Thumpity thump-thump,
No more need to hide!
Thumpity thump-thump,
Thumpity thump, our
Hill is safe to slide!

Jack asks the children to explain in detail how to get to the sledding hill, and exactly where it is in relation to the town, noting silently to himself that it could be a site to investigate once the party has a bit of extra time on its hands.

 

[Neurotic]

Lumrolur considers what the group knows of the caravan. While Torrga may be moral-free, she may not be in deliberate support of the cultists, just a businesswoman out there for money. But no, the people are generally out for themselves. It is best to assume she will fight to protect the cultists, if for no other reason, to get her payment.

Right now, the group needs to decide quickly if they will force a fight here or near by. Or sleep, recover and keep tracking them.

He looks for the chance to sabotage the sleds, but with guards on high alert and the dogs restless he decides against it. He might have some chance of delaying the start.
"You could start fire at the inn! Burn the cultists."
"And everyone else, don't even consider it."
His feature flow quickly this way and that, but he brings his shape changing under control until he knows more about what awaits him.

Retreating carefully, he rushes back to the group
"They are departing in an hour or less. If we want to start something, we have to confront them now. Or delay them if we want to rest, but we have to do something now."

OOC: see OOC thread for my comments on the thing

 

[Quickleaf]

GM: Convenient link to OOC discussion @Neurotic is leading: [OOC] Quickleaf's Rime of the Frostmaiden [closed but waitlist is available]

 

[TaranTheWanderer]

Spoiler: Oskar Whisperstone - Mini-sheet

Oskar Whisperstone Race: Dwarf HP: 27/27 AC: 16/18(with shield)	Perc save: +2 Pass Inv: 9 Pass Ins: 15	Spell Slots: 1st[X ] [ ] [ ] [ ] 2nd [] [] Harness Divine Power 1/1
Channel Divinity: 1/1	Initiative: -1	Spell Save DC: 13/+5 to hit
Spoiler: Stats(saves) STR: 13+1 DEX: 8 -1 CON: 14+2 INT: 9-1 WIS: 16+3(+5) CHA:10 +0(+2)	Spoiler: Skills Craft:+5 History: 1 Insight: 5 Medicine: 5 Persuasion: 2 Religion: 1	Spoiler: Spells Cantrips Guidance, Mending*, Sacred Flame, Spare the dying, Memorized spells 1st Bless*, Cure wounds*, create/destroy water, healing word, Protection from Evil, Sanctuary, Guiding bolt 2nd Lesser Restoration*, Spiritual Weapon*, Aid,

---

"We need to delay them long enough that they won't get to their next destination before night fall. It's risky camping outdoors with the cold. I could call in a deluge of water to soak the dogs. They'd have to get them dried up before they leave or the dogs won't fair well in the cold. But I can't do that with any subtlety.

We have this piece of hair I found stuck in the beam outside by the sabotage...does it match anything belonging to Torga? Fur lining, a grey scruffy beard? A sled dog? Maybe we can get the Innkeeper to make a complaint against Torga regarding the sabotage? Probably won't go nowhere but it might delay them. Maybe Arric @Steve Gorak can get a good sniff at them and see if it was any of them who did the sabotaging."

 

[Neurotic]

Lumrolur enters "The Blue Clam" ordering a beer quietly and sitting in a corner next to the stairs to the rooms. Leaving for the moment half-drank beer, he quietly slips in the hall above, checking the rooms on both sides of where he saw the guard on the window. Working quickly through inns lock, he ruffles through few things guards keep for the way and puts a small gem in one of their packs and changes few items in between them and removes some minor item.

Changing then to half-orc form he stomps down the stairs and slams the door open, panting, seemingly in a panic
"OY! THEY FOUND SOMETHIN’ IN MY GEAR — PLANTED IT ON ME! CHECK YER BAGS! THE DWARF’S BEEN ROBBED!" he bellows loud enough for everyone to hear.

Just as voices start to rise, Lumrolur ducks behind the bar, out of sight, and vanishes into the storeroom. There, in shadow, he drops his disguise, and shifts back into his svirfneblin form. A silent breath. He slips out the rear door into the snow.

OOC: If there are no convenient doors, he just "falls" behind something and shifts into new form, but that is more risk

 

[Quickleaf]

GM POST

Lumrolur enters "The Blue Clam" ordering a beer quietly and sitting in a corner next to the stairs to the rooms. Leaving for the moment half-drank beer, he quietly slips in the hall above, checking the rooms on both sides of where he saw the guard on the window. Working quickly through inns lock, he ruffles through few things guards keep for the way and puts a small gem in one of their packs and changes few items in between them and removes some minor item.

Changing then to half-orc form he stomps down the stairs and slams the door open, panting, seemingly in a panic
"OY! THEY FOUND SOMETHIN’ IN MY GEAR — PLANTED IT ON ME! CHECK YER BAGS! THE DWARF’S BEEN ROBBED!" he bellows loud enough for everyone to hear.

Just as voices start to rise, Lumrolur ducks behind the bar, out of sight, and vanishes into the storeroom. There, in shadow, he drops his disguise, and shifts back into his svirfneblin form. A silent breath. He slips out the rear door into the snow.

OOC: If there are no convenient doors, he just "falls" behind something and shifts into new form, but that is more risk

The dockside tavern "The Blue Clam" boasts a long hearth with benches full of weary fisherman hunched over spiced chowder. Plenty of wary gazes scan the windows facing the caravan, punctuated by quiet chuckles of muted mirth. The half-orc staring out the window with folded tattooed arms has a surly expression and two unskinned hares hang from his belt. It's easy enough for Lumrolur to find a spot out of the way to slip from view.

Lumrolur – disguised as the tattooed half-orc, only one foot shorter – makes the outburst from the open tavern door.

Torrga, the dwarf caravan master, hisses at the fur-wearing half-orc guard, "Darn Braig, get the fool brother of yours in order or I'll have Sephek sort it out!"

The archer with the green glove comes alongside the fur-wearing half-orc guard, "Your brother seem odd to you, Darn?"

Squinting hard, the half-orc Darn Braig grunts, "Vernon looked too short. And he never cared to help before... I'll go check." Finishing securing his pack to a sled, the half-orc trundles over to enter The Blue Clam.

"Check the supplies, you lot, make sure nothing is missing," barks the hard-faced Torrga Icevein, surreptitiously checking her own belt pouch and supplies. The crossbowman and archer begrudgingly check the supplies, while the bearded Reghed man returns to readying the dogs which whine sensing something is off. The man in sailors clothes, however, begins scanning the surrounding streets and buildings slowly as if expecting trouble.

No sooner than Darn Braig trundles into The Blue Clam, the tattooed half-orc takes up a place standing at a heavy table to begin skinning the hares. The tattooed orc speaks first, "You've a lot of nerve coming back here, brother. Gulthrak vrest..." The conversation switches into Orcish, clearly becoming heated.

Darn Braig scans the tavern suspicious that something is amiss, but caught up in the argument with his brother fails to spot Lumrolur slip into the dark storeroom.

 

[TaranTheWanderer]

OOC: so there’s still people guarding the dogs?