(IC) Quickleaf's Rime of the Frostmaiden

[Kobold Stew]

Corse nods as she leaves, "Thank you, Eve. We'll be by in the morning." She turns to the child. "Sleep well. Perhaps I'll ride with you tomorrow."

 

[domminniti]

Russet shivers as we walk out into the biting air of the street. He turns to Corse and Logrim, stamping his feet as he walks to keep them warm.

Scamming a sick kid with phoney medicine! Merchants make me sick..... Who's round is it anyway?

 

[Quickleaf]

The Northlook

Cousin Ottar exchanges a glance to Mak, whistling. It's clear Ottar has come out the game's winner, but only by a talon's width.

"Indeed," chuckles Thidrik, watching Jack's final pool from the pot bringing the fairy's hoard back to 50 silvers - exactly what he started with. "Well played, Jack Everfrosty. Much ventured, nothing lost. A good play, by any mercenary's standard."

With neither god flights nor triplet flights, those with allied flights (all evil or all good dragons) get to take silver equal to the strength of their highest card. Thidrik shuffles 10 silvers from the pot to his hoard, with a rueful grin, "It scarcely makes up for the attacks you all made against me. Well cousins, we know who buys the next round!"

Rudolf slips 5 silvers back into his hoard thanks to his flight of chromatic dragons, minimizing his losses. This brings the ending pot to 166 silver pieces, which Ottar greedily collects. "My thanks, fearless leader, for the nimble thread - it shall adorn my sword in battles to come. And for the fey bracelet, Jack! It will remind me to watch for your Tiamat play in the future." Several rough chuckles come from the mercenaries who all find their purses lighter. Waving to Scramsax the barkeep, Ottar orders a round of ales for the other gamblers now that the game of Three Dragon Ante has come to its end. They raise their mugs to meet Jack's toast, offering an Illuskan cheers, "Skalte!"

GM: Mak ended up losing 32 sp (hoard of 50 to start, at 18 to end). And Jack somehow ended up with a hoard of 50 sp at the end, so no losses for him save for the bracelet. Each of you can roll a DC 10 Insight check (no negative consequences) to learn something about one of the other players or the company of mercenaries in general – e.g. Thidrik's flaw/ideal/bond, their overall morale, even one of Jack's traits, etc. If you roll, let me know what you want to learn.

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Those of you making your way back to The Northlook witness ribbons of green, teal, and purple illuminating the northern sky, barely visible with the heavy snow-laden clouds. The aurora begins in the west then creeps eastward as if trailing behind a single point traversing the night sky.

Within the taproom of The Northlook inn & tavern, the changing hue of the light causes a quieting and murmurs of "the Frostmaiden's hour." The minstrel, seeing the flagging morale causing folks to close off their tabs, takes to the stage, his boot stamping on the worn wood, tuning up the lute before belting into a fisherman's jig...

"Bite the nets, oh, bite the nets,
The fishers of Targos'll not catch me yet.
I've a fin, and I've a mind,
To give- them- all- a piece of mine.
Oh-HO! Don't cross the lines, my fisher friends,
Cause who knows where that trouble ends?
Our sons and daughters must make amends
For the stubbornness of older men! Hah!
Bite the nets, oh bite the nets,
The fishers of Caer-Konig'll not catch me yet.
I'm a knuckledhead who knows how to rhyme,
And I'll tell- them- all- they're out of time.
Oh-HO! Don't fight on the water, my fisher kin,
Cause Dorim Lugar that were the end o' him,
Our loved ones must bear the toll
Of the knucklehead trout who ate me whole!"​

 

[Kobold Stew]

Russet shivers as we walk out into the biting air of the street. He turns to Corse and Logrim, stamping his feet as he walks to keep them warm.

Scamming a sick kid with phoney medicine! Merchants make me sick..... Who's round is it anyway?

Corse grunts her agreement. "I'll catch up with you in a bit." She says farewell, and positions herself in the shadows on a doorstoop a few buildings down.

 

[domminniti]

Corse grunts her agreement. "I'll catch up with you in a bit." She says farewell, and positions herself in the shadows on a doorstoop a few buildings down.

To Logrim:
She needs to work on her excuses to get out of paying for a round! We'll have to hurry - its the Frostmaiden's hour. Mine's an ale, or a Fire Brandy if they got it. I'll get you a stool and you can tell me more about your beautiful construction. Ludo isn't it?

 

[Steve Gorak]

Corse grunts her agreement. "I'll catch up with you in a bit." She says farewell, and positions herself in the shadows on a doorstoop a few buildings down.

Aric is curious about what Corse is planning and says “Hey Corse, can I stay with you? I’m a good spotter and can hide really well”

 

[Kobold Stew]

Relieved that Aric has waited a few minutes so that there is at least some distance between them and the kennell, she nods. "It's probably nothing. We can enjoy the evening before it gets too cold."

 

[happylace]

GM POST @happylace @Necropolitan

House of the Triad (occupied by Cult of Auril)

The temple with its heatless torches, whispers of mist from the dry ice, and the ice sculpture-in-progress make a suitable witness to Zeth's testimony. Jelenneth's demeanor shifts to regard him with what almost seems like deference. There aren't many who can meet the cold steel gaze of one of Auril's fanatics and not flinch. "You have seen winter's fury, stranger. It was a test of Auril, there can be no doubt. You survived what weaker souls could not."

Upon hearing your description of Sephek Kaltro, Jelenneth has a flicker of recognition, but pauses with her head slightly cocked as if remembering something. "I don't know the name. He is not a follower of Auril that I recognize. However..." she gestures towards the double doors you entered through, "Three days ago, I recall seeing a man with sailor's clothes and forearm markings standing outside the temple. I remember his eyes the most. Stark crystal blue, like gazing at an iceberg on the deep ocean, only for it to gaze back. I swore I felt the goddess' hand upon him, but when I sought the man out, he was gone." Even the fact that the man she saw had his arms exposed in this weather is notable.

Almost excited to meet another who has survived a purported "test" of the Frostmaiden, Jelenneth controls her voice so as not to sound too passionate. "And you, stranger? Could your own brush with death bring you closer to where you're meant to be? To finding a new faith in the Frostmaiden's arms?"

Alma's attention catches on something the woman says. Her eyes flit to Zeth, trying to deduce if he heard it too. But he seems stunned by the offer and unsure what to say. Usually she would avoid interrupting. It's considered rude, after all. But she can't let this chance slip away. And they can't be out here forever.

''Three days ago,'' Alma interjects. ''You said that you saw him outside the temple three days ago. Was this Auril's temple yet, at that time? What state did he seem to be in? Did you witness him speaking with anyone?'' She tilts her head curiously, taking a step forward to push herself to the forefront of the conversation. ''You said his arms were bare.... that's strange. I've only seen people completely bundled up since I came here.''

 

[Aethmud]

The Northlook

GM: Mak ended up losing 32 sp (hoard of 50 to start, at 18 to end). And Jack somehow ended up with a hoard of 50 sp at the end, so no losses for him save for the bracelet. Each of you can roll a DC 10 Insight check (no negative consequences) to learn something about one of the other players or the company of mercenaries in general – e.g. Thidrik's flaw/ideal/bond, their overall morale, even one of Jack's traits, etc. If you roll, let me know what you want to learn.

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Spoiler: Insight check

Jack succeeds a DC10 insight check, attempting to gauge the morale and immediate next plans of the Mintarn mercenaries.

Jack remains in good cheer as he continues drinking with the mercenaries, trading stories of adventure and daring with them.

 

[Necropolitan]

Alma's attention catches on something the woman says. Her eyes flit to Zeth, trying to deduce if he heard it too. But he seems stunned by the offer and unsure what to say. Usually she would avoid interrupting. It's considered rude, after all. But she can't let this chance slip away. And they can't be out here forever.

''Three days ago,'' Alma interjects. ''You said that you saw him outside the temple three days ago. Was this Auril's temple yet, at that time? What state did he seem to be in? Did you witness him speaking with anyone?'' She tilts her head curiously, taking a step forward to push herself to the forefront of the conversation. ''You said his arms were bare.... that's strange. I've only seen people completely bundled up since I came here.''

Zeth realized he'd just talked himself into a situation he didn't know how to talk his way out of.

Violence was neither likely to work nor an option he wanted to have to use. It was so...messy.

He now had more than enough evidence to believe that Sephek Kaltro (or whatever he was now) was the culprit behind the murders. That left tracking down the former pirate and putting him down permanently to ensure the best possible outcome.

Thankfully Alma saved Zeth the trouble of having to immediately lie by speaking up.

Her distraction gave him time to think.

He had no faith in Auril from what he'd learned of her religion, but getting an in with her cult here might be helpful. He WAS planning the murder of what was apparently a newly-devout Aurilite, but Sephek was a murderous pirate and it wasn't like the world would be poorer for his absence. For now the plan was to kill Sephek and deny any responsibility for the death after claiming the reward. Maybe shove the ice dagger they'd been given into the pirate's heart to frame him as the murderer's latest victim so there'd be fewer questions asked.

This was a narrow path to walk. Avoid angering the Aurilites, avoid angering the townsfolk who obviously had no love for the cold cultists, and complete his self-determined mission so he could get back to Luskan and enjoy expensive luxuries until it was time for his next job.

It wasn't like there'd be much reason to hang around once he'd recovered the treasure from the ship. The winter seemed unlikely to abate and that'd be the end of any trading to be done here legally or not. Zeth would not be sticking around longer than he needed to.

But for now it seemed like the best move was to ingratiate himself to Auril's cult and deny any connection to them if the townsfolk asked. If the cult learned he was claiming not to be associated with them he'd just lie and say it was to ensure they had an agent incognito.

And Zeth would readily admit to being curious as to what else there was to the worship of Auril. He may only be a dilettante when it came to scholarship, but it was his natural curiosity that had led him to the power that had gotten him this far.

Waiting for the reply to Alma's questions, Zeth spoke to Jelenneth.

"As you've said, I've survived one of your goddess's tests. What comes next?"

 

[Quickleaf]

GM POST @happylace @Necropolitan

House of the Triad (occupied by Cult of Auril)

Turning so she can watch the work of the disciples, Jelenneth folds her hands in front of her, glancing sidelong at Zeth as she weighs Alma Ostergaard's question. "Yes," she says after a moment. "It was soon after we corrected the mistake of this building being consecrated in the Triad's name. I only caught a glimpse of him... Hale, driven, wild perhaps," she folds her arms, rubbing her thumb over her lower lip in thought. "Is it odd?" Though Jelenneth herself is hardly wearing furs and wools, the lilt in her voice suggests she's playing with you with her rhetoric question.

"The goddess speaks to each of us in a different way," replies the priestess to Zeth's question. "In old times, there were six tests. Survival in the cold was the first... extinguishing an eternal fire, retrieving the winter wolf's fur..." The way her eyes flash watching the ice being sculpted it is easy to see she is convinced repurposing this temple is the Frostmaiden's calling for herself. "Look for her signs, stranger. Look for them on the blizzard's breath and in the mountain's moan. When you are ready, return here to me."

 

[Necropolitan]

GM POST @happylace @Necropolitan

House of the Triad (occupied by Cult of Auril)

Turning so she can watch the work of the disciples, Jelenneth folds her hands in front of her, glancing sidelong at Zeth as she weighs Alma Ostergaard's question. "Yes," she says after a moment. "It was soon after we corrected the mistake of this building being consecrated in the Triad's name. I only caught a glimpse of him... Hale, driven, wild perhaps," she folds her arms, rubbing her thumb over her lower lip in thought. "Is it odd?" Though Jelenneth herself is hardly wearing furs and wools, the lilt in her voice suggests she's playing with you with her rhetoric question.

"The goddess speaks to each of us in a different way," replies the priestess to Zeth's question. "In old times, there were six tests. Survival in the cold was the first... extinguishing an eternal fire, retrieving the winter wolf's fur..." The way her eyes flash watching the ice being sculpted it is easy to see she is convinced repurposing this temple is the Frostmaiden's calling for herself. "Looks for her signs, stranger. Look for them on the blizzard's breath and in the mountain's moan. When you are ready, return here to me."

Zeth's faith was practical.

He paid lip service to Waukeen and made offerings as expected for someone from his family, but at the very least that got him something.

Auril was not a practical goddess, and he got the feeling having her attention was worse than not having it. Still, no reason not to watch out for what the priestess spoke of. An eternal fire, a winter wolf, blizzard breath mountain's moan, ugh it was pretentious poetry.

Now that he'd gotten what he'd came for from the cultists Zeth decided it was best to leave.

He waits for Alma to finish, then moves to exit.

"I'll return when I'm ready then."

Mentally he makes a note that outside of extreme need or gain he'd return when Levistus thawed.

 

[happylace]

GM POST @happylace @Necropolitan

House of the Triad (occupied by Cult of Auril)

Turning so she can watch the work of the disciples, Jelenneth folds her hands in front of her, glancing sidelong at Zeth as she weighs Alma Ostergaard's question. "Yes," she says after a moment. "It was soon after we corrected the mistake of this building being consecrated in the Triad's name. I only caught a glimpse of him... Hale, driven, wild perhaps," she folds her arms, rubbing her thumb over her lower lip in thought. "Is it odd?" Though Jelenneth herself is hardly wearing furs and wools, the lilt in her voice suggests she's playing with you with her rhetoric question.

"The goddess speaks to each of us in a different way," replies the priestess to Zeth's question. "In old times, there were six tests. Survival in the cold was the first... extinguishing an eternal fire, retrieving the winter wolf's fur..." The way her eyes flash watching the ice being sculpted it is easy to see she is convinced repurposing this temple is the Frostmaiden's calling for herself. "Look for her signs, stranger. Look for them on the blizzard's breath and in the mountain's moan. When you are ready, return here to me."

Alma's lips quirk down in a subtle frown. That isn't a satisfying answer and she suspects the priestess knows that. Zeth turns to leave, having recovered himself. She hesitates. Wanting to dig for more information. She can feel her fingers twitch, tempted to trace the somatic motions.

But Jelenneth seems to have worn out her usefulness. There will be no more answers without direct questions. And even then it's unlikely.

Disappointed, she turns to follow Zeth back out into the cold.

 

[VLAD the Destroyer]

To Logrim:
She needs to work on her excuses to get out of paying for a round! We'll have to hurry - its the Frostmaiden's hour. Mine's an ale, or a Fire Brandy if they got it. I'll get you a stool and you can tell me more about your beautiful construction. Ludo isn't it?

Logrim rushes to keep up with the others longer legs. He smiles when Russet ask him to join him for a drink.

"I'd like that mister Russet. No Fire Brandy for me but an ale would be nice." At the mention of talking about Ludo the gnomes expression shifts between pride and worry. "Yes I named him Ludo, I built him. I can tell you about it over that drink if you like."

 

[domminniti]

Logrim rushes to keep up with the others longer legs. He smiles when Russet ask him to join him for a drink.

"I'd like that mister Russet. No Fire Brandy for me but an ale would be nice." At the mention of talking about Ludo the gnomes expression shifts between pride and worry. "Yes I named him Ludo, I built him. I can tell you about it over that drink if you like."

Another round shirker, Russet thinks to himself. Oh well, worth the price of an ale to hear more about it.

A Harengon's feet are rarely still, and quickly his stomping to keep warm becomes tapping along to the catchy tune. In this atmosphere his oath to quit the booze, like all the others, is soon forgotten.

Two ales please Scramsax, and a fire brandy if you got it.
investigation on ol bitey, if peception add two: 1D20-1 = [4]-1 = 3

While Scamsax pores the drinks he hums along to the tune and looks up at the giant stuffed fish. It looks big.
What's the story with old bitey?

 

[Quickleaf]

GM POST @domminniti

Pouring the mugs with a frothy finish, Scramsax follows your gaze to the massive stuffed knucklehead. "Ol' Bitey? Many a fisher was pulled overboard into the icy depths of Maer Dualdon by that knucklehead. Then, 8 or 9 years back, a pair of rogues – Kintyre and Maverick – came in hauling that fish. Well, instead of cooking it up for them, I bought it off them and had it mounted. Looks good on the wall, don't it?"

Pausing to close out another patron's tab, Scramsax slides you the ales and pulls out a little green bottle of Lindewell brandy. "The ales are 1 silver all together, but for Flamebeard's Firebrandy you'll need to visit Kelvin's Comfort - it's a rowdy dwarf-run drinking hall here in town. BUT I've got a gnomish Lindewell for 5 silvers that'll warm you right up and has a smoother finish."

Scramsax gestures to the stuffed fish as he begins to pour, "Then 4 or 5 years ago, some prankster wizard from Bremen put a spell on Ol' Bitey. If you get close to it, it'll snap and-- not too close--!"

However, Russet has leaned too close in his curiosity, the massive fish suddenly coming to life as its head bends and chomps a tuft of hair from the tip Russet's ear. Its mouth opens and closes, and its eyes roll around for a moment before it sings in a nasal irritating tone. Several patrons groan, clearly having suffered Ol' Bitey's song before, and the minstrel glares at you as he struggles to maintain his rhythm...

"There’s a place I like to go
Farther up the river’s flow;
Where it is, I do not know;
Must be under all that snow.
Sheltered from the winds that blow;
Where the pine trees cease to grow;
I’ll swim with you friend or foe,
In the north where waters glow."
​

GM: Jack, Insight check on mercenaries: They are well paid judging by their attitudes toward losing coin gambling, and happy not to be out in the cold right now. Morale is fair, not great, but not bad. Seems like even though they've had their fill of wizards, their patron is having them head out tomorrow looking for another mage.

 

[domminniti]

Through all the fights and adventures that Russet had been in, he had managed to keep his ears pristine, well apart from the sudden colour change. - A Harengon's ears are reflection of the hare. And while his may be a little droopy of late, his helm, skill and a bit of good luck had kept them unblemished.

He grasp the tip of his ear. He can feel the eyes of the crowd and the mistrel burning on him. His ear begins to sting and he can feel the blood rushing to his head in shame. To add to the ignominy his tuft of white fur gets churned up in the fish's mouth as it sings its annoying ditty. Russet laughs, half from embarrassment, half to cover for his shame and anger at getting his ears sullied by such a stupid trick.

He slams down the money for the drinks a little too hard on the counter, and laughs again a little too loud and forcefully, declaring to whoever will listen.

HAHA! Very funny! You know what, we harengon have a saying about this. It goes something like this... ahem... To get bitten on the ear by a fish is unlucky. To get bitten on the ear by a fish clearly labelled "ol' bitey" is your own bloody fault"

Do you know the name of this wizard? I should love to thank him personally for such a lesson!

He returns to Logrim and gives him an ale. Russet nurses his stinging ear and nurses his ale, leaving the fire brandy for now - he feels warmed through enough!

You do mechanical ears or just whole cats? Might be needing your skills if the furniture round here keeps at it. How did you learn to build like that?

OOC I would have put money on that fish singing!

 

[Quickleaf]

HAHA! Very funny! You know what, we harengon have a saying about this. It goes something like this... ahem... To get bitten on the ear by a fish is unlucky. To get bitten on the ear by a fish clearly labelled "ol' bitey" is your own bloody fault"

Do you know the name of this wizard? I should love to thank him personally for such a lesson!

Scramsax winces and then chuckles, putting the brandy away. "Earwick? Earvin? Something like that. He had a magic trinkets shop in Bremen, but heard a halfling inherited it," he gestures vaguely to the northwest.

 

[tglassy]

Insight on Thidrik: 1D20+1 = [8]+1 = 9

 

[Neurotic]

"Ditty seems weirdly specific. Did anyone try to find the location?" Lumrolur asks tha barkeep as he gets his own drink. After getting the answer he rejoins 'his' group and waits for the rest to join.