Logrim nods to Russet when he returns with the ale.
"Thanks Mister Russet, I'll get the next round. He takes a sip of the ale. "I can make all kinds of things, though I've never tried to makes ears before."
Logrim takes another sip to gather his thoughts.
"I just could. Ever since I was a wee boy I could make things better than most of the master tinkerers. As I got older my skill just improved, I was able to imbue my creations with magic. Ludo's my greatest creation. He's actually smart not just some clockwork toy moving in a pattern. It took me a year to build 'im and I have not been able to recreate him since."
Russet looks admiringly at Ludo and attempts to pet it (@VLAD the Destroyer I'll let you decide what happens here!)
Must be good to feel like your good at something...
What brings you to the Ten Towns?
He notices the small hooded figure of Lumrolur Sorry, didn't see you there, else I'd have got your drink (again...). Must be useful blending into a room like that...
You think that song is a clue to where that trickster wizard is? You want to help me get him back?
"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.
"Not for lack of trying," the greying barkeep shakes his head, leaning on the counter, cleaning rag in hand. "I think it's just a wizard prank, but a few folk tried years back. Never found nothing. Course, since the Everlasting Rime swallowed our daylight, no one's dared to go on a wild knuckledhead chase."
Ludo shifts back as Russet reaches out to pet it. It cocks it's head regarding the harengon as if deciding if Russet is a threat.
"Ludo he's trying to be nice. He's not going to hurt you...or me." Logrim looks at Russet. "Sorry 'bout that. He has some trust issues."
After Logrim chastised him Ludo moves forward and lets Russet pat its head. The metal is cool to the touch but there is an energy emanating form it that makes the hair on his arm stand up on end.
"I came to help my Uncle. He runs a shop in town. It's the last assignment on my apprenticeship, not that Uncle Jorlen can teach me much. I already craft better than he does." Logrim sighs and takes another sip from his drink. "Not that I'm not learning anything. He has taught me a bunch about running a shop."
Gathering at the Northlook, you exchange what you’ve learned – Torrga’s caravan has gone on to Targos and one of her guards named Sephek was seen near the temple that Auril’s cultists took over. And there are mages afoot! After a while, you retire upstairs. Even with the shutters drawn, turquoise and purple light filters through the cracks from the midnight aurora. Bundled up, you fall sleep…
GM:
You each pay 5 silver pieces to stay at The Northlook including a morning meal. If you don’t have the coin, Scramsax offers to let you pay him back later “with modest interest.” @domminniti Russet is given free room & board for being a folk hero. @VLAD the Destroyer Logrim can stay with Uncle Jorlen for free (guild artisan), and meet the party in the morning if you wish. @Kobold Stew Corse is freely given the spare room at the Northlook and breakfast, thanks to her rustic hospitality background feature.
Long Rest (house rule): 8 hours of food, drink, and very light activity. Regain Hit Points equal to your level. Restore 1 level of exhaustion. Restore/prep spells & features as normal for your class.
Targos
Hammer 24 (december 15), 1489 DR
Come morning you meet downstairs for a meal of dark bread and butter, porridge, maple braised carrots, fried sardines, and yaupon (an earthy caffeinated tea). Eve Breengren and her son arrive after a bit to warm up with tea. Only the hearth and sputtering lanterns keep the gloom at bay.
Three sleds await you outside, each with eight harnessed dogs. Comet whines and wags his tail upon recognizing you. In addition to each sled’s driver – Eve, her son, her hired hand – a sled can take 3 human-sized passengers. Once you’ve settled in, Eve gives a whistle and shout, drawing up her scarf.
Snow hisses under the sled’s runners as you head out the gate, just being opened after the cold night. Picking up speed, you can see the walled hilltop town of Bryn Shander become swallowed by the overcast dark morning until only flickering fire-lights remain. Panting dogs run ahead as the three sleds glide in single-file along the westward trail. After 45 minutes, dreary walled Targos comes into view, and at the crossroads before town you spot a frozen corpse lashed to a post; your drivers avert their gaze.
A pair of guards, bundled to the point you can scarcely see their faces, wave you inside Targos. The smell of fish hangs heavy in the air. Notices are posted along a section of the wooden wall – announcement of a mandatory lottery, wanted posters, advertisements. Those not frosted over flap in the wind.
Eve Breengren pulls down her scarf, “I’ll take my boy to get some chowder at the Trip and Shuffle. We can wait for you till noon’s light before heading out.” She gestures to a cluster of nearby buildings around a smoky tavern. “Chances are Torrga has gone on either west to Bremen or east to Lonelywood to hawk her goods. You might ask around the market square, the pawn shop, or any of the inns and taverns…”
As she speaks, you hear the bark of a dog over the whistling wind. A light grey furred sled dog runs toward you, dragging a broken leather harness behind him. The name on his collar reads “Boy.” Whimpering, he licks at Arik’s and Logrim’s faces.
Eve frowns, “Huh. That’s one of Garret and Keegan’s dogs. They run the kennel here in Targos. Shouldn’t be out in the streets like this…”
Corse sits on the stoop for an hour or so, and [?] notices no comings or goings from the Kennel. A light had gone off 15 minutes earlier, and with no apparent movement, she nudges Aric, and says "I figure we can go."
Back at the Northlook, she books a room for herself. She's happy when she sees that it has a window that opens; she sleeps with the cool evening breeze flowing through her room, which is how she is most comfortable. Either that evening, or the next morning, Corse lets the others know her plans. "I'm going to head for Targos. I expect to be back tonight, or tomorrow at the latest. There is room for everyone, if you wish, but you should not feel you need to come; the lead may amount to nothing."
When she sees who's set to go, she gets into the sled being driven by the boy, as she had promised. If not everyone is going, she'll explain to Eve that the hand can exercise the team, but stay available.
OOC:
Sorry: a lot happened suddenly; I didn't want to presume everyone wanted to go, but of course all are welcome.
Expenses so far: 2gp for three dogsleds; 5sp for the hotel. EDIT: Room was comp'd!
When they arrive at Targos, Corse thanks Eve's son: "You're a good driver. Very steady," she says in a warm voice. "We'll ride again."
Her intention had been to grab some warm drinks to bring to the city guard, in hopes of persuading them to talk about who they'd seen coming and going the previous day. She'll do that, but fist she speaks to Eve, who is looking at the stray dog.
"That seems unusual. Can I see its harness, Eve?" She bends down, with an open palm, and looks to see if the leather is torn or cut, and whether there are any other unusual signs of a fight.
Aric came back to the inn with Corse, glad he had found folks that were intent on resolving the murders. There, he decided to book a room, to stay with his new companions, and to see how the town folks slept. Indeed, he had never slept in a bed. It was warm and fluffy, and promptly dosed off. However, he woke up on the floor, and figured he must have transitioned in the night to a more familiar stiff surface.
knowing that they were heading back to the kennels, Aric had prepared himself, and was able to speak with the dogs, he greeted all of three, and thanked them for pulling the sleds, The ride was nice and smooth, and he was Able to perform the ritual several times to keep the cheers conversation going.
Upon their arrival, he sees the distraught yet friendly dog and says to it as it is liking his face: “Hi Boy, I’m Aric. What happened to you?”
He then inspects the harness too.
OOC:
proficiency in craft (leather working). Wisdom check: 1d20+4=9
In the small room shared by multiple people, small wrapped-up bundle tosses and turns, mutters and stutters in his sleep. The figure is twitching, sweating as the bedside is gripped with iron strength belying the small frame. The twitches grow into spasms almost fits before the small figure starts awake, gasping. The eyes glow red in the dark and slowly fade back into black. The figure mutters something to itself, those of sharp hearing can hear gravel sounds of svirfneblin language.
Luckily, it was just in time to get up for dog-sled ride. Lumrolur isn't taking much space and he keeps to himself. Sharing the results of his listening in on the sheriff was enough talking for one day.
As the dog arrives with cut leather he hurries up the street "With all that is going on, we should check the kennel first and ask questions and check the dog later. Maybe someone is right now bleeding out! Come on!"
As the dog whimpers and licks at Aric’s face, a pang of concern creases Jack's normally jovial countenance. He kneels beside the dog. His hands glide over the soft fur, feeling for any injuries beneath the dog's thick winter coat.
"Poor little lad," Jack murmurs, meeting the dog's anxious gaze with a soothing one of his own. His fingers trace the inscription on the dog's collar. "Boy, is it? Well, Boy, you're quite far from your kennel."
Luckily, it was just in time to get up for dog-sled ride. Lumrolur isn't taking much space and he keeps to himself. Sharing the results of his listening in on the sheriff was enough talking for one day.
As the dog arrives with cut leather he hurries up the street "With all that is going on, we should check the kennel first and ask questions and check the dog later. Maybe someone is right now bleeding out! Come on!"
"Ah, Lumrolur," Jack starts, his tone full of respect, "always the pragmatist. You're right, of course. We should hurry." Jack grins at Lumrolur before turning his attention back to Boy. Jack's fingers dance over the dog's fur once more, this time with an urgency matching Lumrolur's concern. The broken leather harness is indeed a worrisome sight.
Straightening up, Jack casts a glance at his companions. "I think we've stumbled upon a mystery of our own here, friends. Boy's got a tale to tell, and I'm inclined to listen." Turning back to Eve, he says, "We'll take Boy back to his kennel, see what we can find out. It's on our way to the Trip and Shuffle anyway. No need to worry about us; we can manage."
With a gentle tug at Boy's leash, Jack's mind whirls with possibilities and, though he can't shake off a feeling of unease, he puts on a show with a voice that rings out, filled with that familiar, comforting warmth, "Come on, Boy, let's find your masters, shall we?" in an attempt to lighten the mood, despite the underlying tension.
Jack rolls a 6 for an Insight check to survey the streets of Targos and see if there is anything else out of the ordinary while they go to the kennel. He's obviously distracted by his concern for the sled dog.
As the party walks to the kennels, Jack makes a halfhearted attempt to scan the streets for trouble, but gets caught up in his concern for Boy. He brushes his hand over the dog's fur with a comforting rhythm, "Oh, Boy, it's a tough job you have, isn't it? Pulling sleds through snowstorms, braving the frostbite, and bearing with us humans, or gnomes, or whoever. And all you ask for is a pat on the head and maybe a bone or two."
His eyes twinkle with affection as he continues, "No demands for better benefits or warmer kennels. You lot are the real hard workers, the unsung heroes of the Icewind Dale. And I'm sure if you dogs decided to form a guild, there'd be no one brave enough to cross the sled dogs. How about the 'Cold Paws, Warm Hearts' guild?" Jack asks the pup, grinning widely, his hazel eyes alight with mirth. "Ah, I can see it now, the Cold Paws, Warm Hearts Guild, serving as the local Snow Patrol. Not only pulling sleds but also keeping Targos' streets clear of snow and ice. Imagine, a team of huskies, coordinated and in harmony, digging and pushing away snow. The sight alone would be worth a bag of gold pieces!" He laughs lightly, adding, "And imagine if they negotiated the right to mark their territory freely in Targos as part of their guild code. No lamppost or tree would be safe!"
He chuckles, scratching Boy behind the ears. "No one would cross the sled dogs guild, especially if you appoint Comet here as representative. That dog's got a bark that could scare off a yeti!" Jack adds, glancing at the husky that had recognized them earlier. He keeps his tone light and jesting as they walk the streets. He is paying more attention to the pup than to where they are headed.
Upon quick examination of the dog and his broken harness, Corse notes a bit of blood staining his paw but it's not the dog's blood, and Aric determines that the harness broke from being stretched repeatedly as if the dog tore himself free.
Boy whines, circling about anxiously, the other dogs sniffing at him. After a moment staring at Arik, he barks loudly, "Haruff! <Danger to dogs!> Garr-rr har... <Garret is hurt> Rrrr drrhf kyff! <Smells like death big hair person!>" He circles toward the direction of the kennel, then whines, pacing back toward the town gate, seeming torn which way to go, before coming back to nuzzle Arik. "Mrrhhn whfff. <Mountain that blocks wind.> Arararar! <Help!>"
Those of you who venture to the kennel watch Boy bark and scratch at the door, until a lanky rough-shaven man in his 30's comes out to greet the sled dog. "Boy? Where's Garret?" Looking across your company, the man's hopeful eyes immediately sag. "Where'd you find Boy? My husband Garret wouldn't let Boy out of his sight. He took a group of adventurers up Kelvin's Cairn..." The man wrings his hands, realizing that something has gone wrong, but patting Boy as the dog rushes into the house and begins sniffing about. "I- I'm Keegan... Keegan Velryn. C- come in, I'll put some cider on the stove..."
Aric presses Boy to give more information, even if he knows he may not get as much information as he is hoping. “Boy, we are fiends and we want to help. Where is Garrett, and do you know this big hair person? Was it a very tall person completely covered in white hair with horns? Where did they come from what did it do? [ooc: thinking it may be a yeti] What happened to your dog friends; were you the only one that was able to break the harness and free yourself?”
Aric readily briefs his companions on what boy has said. Upon meeting Keegan, he tells the man “Keegan, Boy told me Keegan is in danger. How far away is Kelvin’s Kairn? What were they doing there?”
Alma's night is quiet. She stays up a bit, making notes in an old journal, before falling asleep. It's a restless sort of sleep, however, and at some point in the night she gets out of bed and sneaks to the window. She opens the shutters, shivering against the blast of cold air, and looks up to the night sky. Stormclouds and snow blot out the sea of stars she longs to see. She wants to trace out the constellations in her head, in her book, just to know they're really there. After a few minutes of disappointment, she closes the window and crawls back into bed. Dreaming of caves and cold and darkness.
She steps off the sled in Targos, giving Eve only half an ear. She notes the suggested locations. Right. Maybe they're start there then. See if Torrga is even in town still. But their plans are interrupted as a loose dog comes running up.
Alma takes off after Lumrolur. That seems most pressing. The dog probably helps lead them towards the kennels. She hangs back for the most part, letting others talk. When Aric mentions Garret possibly being in trouble, she looks up at Keegan. "If that's true, we might not have time for cider. How long ago did they leave?"
Boy circles around, clearly weary from his long trip home, yet too anxious to slump down near the small fireplace. “Garr-rr mrrhhn whfff <Garret on mountain that blocks wind,>” the grey dog whines, eyes shifting woefully between Arik and Keegan. Finally leaning down to thirstily lick up water that Keegan has set out, Boy vocalizes between lapping, “Shhf. <Stranger.> Hrrmn kyr-kyff snrrr. <Horns and very big hair like snow.>" The dog makes a lonely whine, "Bororor. Harar ruff uur. <Just Boy. Other dogs stuck and hurt.>” Despite his exhaustion, the dog looks to the door intently, then to Arik, “R-rrrhff Garr-rr? <Follow me to Garret?>”
Keegan’s hand trembles as he places the kettle of cider on the stove, clearly distraught over the condition of Boy’s return. “Since the axebeak trader started up in Targos, we haven’t been selling as many dogs. Garret, he… ah… he started picking up work as a guide. It was what he always wanted since he left his wealthy family in Neverwinter – trekking across the white blanket of the wilderness.”
Fighting back tears, Keegan manages to still his hand long enough to light the whale oil burner under the cider. “He left 3 days ago with a party of 3 adventurers bound for Kelvin’s Cairn…a goliath, a halfling, and a horned sorceress. He only said the adventurers were looking for someone, probably the witch they call Snow White or the Dark Elf Who Watches – aren’t many reasons for sane folk to brave the Cairn.”
Nodding out the window toward faint glimpses of a silhouetted mountain to the northeast, Keegan says, “He’d have gone through Caer-Konig - about 24 miles by trail - then another 5 miles across Icewind Pass to the Cairn. About 12 hours by sled altogether. I’d expect him back tonight, but with Boy… a-and… excuse me…” Getting choked up, Keegan covers his face for a moment.
GM:
@Kobold Stew Corse knows that the route Keegan describes is only an hour or two faster than going through Termalaine and cutting across tundra. Dog sleds move 4 mph on trail, 1 mph across tundra, and 0.5 mph in the mountains.
With a soft flutter, Jack lands on the table near Keegan, his eyes sincere. "Keegan, we won't let Garrett or his clients be lost in the wilderness. We'll find him." Then, Jack's tone shifts slightly, "About this witch, the dark Snow White, does she hold any connection to the Icewind Dale? Does she roam the wilds, or hold court in the Cairn? Anything you can share might guide our steps better." Jack leans forward toward just slightly, his sparkling wings fluttering in a calming rhythm. The simple gesture coupled with his steady gaze subtly communicates an intent to soothe the distraught Keegan.
With a soft flutter, Jack lands on the table near Keegan, his eyes sincere. "Keegan, we won't let Garrett or his clients be lost in the wilderness. We'll find him." Then, Jack's tone shifts slightly, "About this witch, the dark Snow White, does she hold any connection to the Icewind Dale? Does she roam the wilds, or hold court in the Cairn? Anything you can share might guide our steps better." Jack leans forward toward just slightly, his sparkling wings fluttering in a calming rhythm. The simple gesture coupled with his steady gaze subtly communicates an intent to soothe the distraught Keegan.
With a fleeting smile of gratitude, Keegan wipes his eyes, "Thank you, sprite. I'm afraid I don't have much to offer you for seeking out Garret... a discount on sled dogs should you need them... and the owner at the Luskan Arms is a friend so I can get you free rooms at the inn. I'd be grateful even if you find him... if..." He's not able to finish the sentence, but the implication is clear: He's willing to offer you what meager reward he can, even if you return Garret's body.
Watching the flickering fire beneath the metal plate that heats the kettle, Keegan furrows his brows, "I- well, I don't know much about the witch, I'm afraid. They say she dwells within Kelvin's Cairn and deals in curses. Not even sure why they call her Snow White."
Zeth spends his first night indoors after nearly freezing to death bundled up as much as he can. He dreams of the frozen corpses of his dead crewmates crawling across the icy ground after him, waking in the middle of the night just as they catch up to him with open mouths. He muffles his scream and manages to keep from falling out of the bed. He's not one to believe in dreams, but feels in his bones that ending Sephek is the only way he can find peace. He'll burn the corpse to ash so it can't follow him.
On the sled ride he tries to stay calm, but shows obvious agitation as being out of the town brings back the memories of the wilderness. Even if the drivers know where they're going the inverted hope of fear wonders what will happen if they get lost. When they finally arrive at the town Zeth grimaces as he sees the frozen corpse tied to the post outside Targos. It's a grim reminder of what could have happened to him if he hadn't managed to find his way back to civilization. It's like Auril is taunting him after he lied to her followers.
Auril's followers were lunatics, these sacrifices were pointless sadism. Killing in self-defense was acceptable, he and his companions were about to kill for profit, but to condemn someone to a tortuous death out of religious fanaticism was just...he hoped he'd never understand it. It'd be one thing if worshiping Auril provided actual protection from the cold, but the constant tests and need to walk such a narrow line would be a worse torment. It was insanity, and Zeth prided himself on his rationality.
Zeth realizes he's been unconsciously chewing, as if desperately eating-no no no, he was stronger-willed than this. He'd see this through and it would just become another chapter in the long, long book of his life. And he'd never need to feel cold or hungry again.
Alma takes off after Lumrolur. That seems most pressing. The dog probably helps lead them towards the kennels. She hangs back for the most part, letting others talk. When Aric mentions Garret possibly being in trouble, she looks up at Keegan. "If that's true, we might not have time for cider. How long ago did they leave?"
With a soft flutter, Jack lands on the table near Keegan, his eyes sincere. "Keegan, we won't let Garrett or his clients be lost in the wilderness. We'll find him." Then, Jack's tone shifts slightly, "About this witch, the dark Snow White, does she hold any connection to the Icewind Dale? Does she roam the wilds, or hold court in the Cairn? Anything you can share might guide our steps better." Jack leans forward toward just slightly, his sparkling wings fluttering in a calming rhythm. The simple gesture coupled with his steady gaze subtly communicates an intent to soothe the distraught Keegan.
With a fleeting smile of gratitude, Keegan wipes his eyes, "Thank you, sprite. I'm afraid I don't have much to offer you for seeking out Garret... a discount on sled dogs should you need them... and the owner at the Luskan Arms is a friend so I can get you free rooms at the inn. I'd be grateful even if you find him... if..." He's not able to finish the sentence, but the implication is clear: He's willing to offer you what meager reward he can, even if you return Garret's body.
Watching the flickering fire beneath the metal plate that heats the kettle, Keegan furrows his brows, "I- well, I don't know much about the witch, I'm afraid. They say she dwells within Kelvin's Cairn and deals in curses. Not even sure why they call her Snow White."
Zeth watches as his companions get information and the Goblin somehow speaks Dog. He's unsure of what to say in this situation, but will pounce on any opportunity to prove his worth. If he's with this group then he's not alone with his thoughts. And the cold. And his hunger.
(OOC: If Arcana, History, or Religion would be of any use when it comes to the topics discussed: 1D20+6 = [11]+6 = 17)
When Keegan finishes warming the cider Zeth gladly takes a cup and drains it even as it burns on the way down. He needs the heat and weight in his stomach, which has yet to feel full even after the large meal he had the other day.
@Necropolitan Zeth has heard stories about Kelvin's Cairn told by mercenaries and fortune-seekers. Allegedly the mountain to the northeast formed when the god Tempos battled and slew the frost giant Kelvin, burying him under a thousand feet of rock and ice. It has a storied history, having once been a site of pilgrimage for frost giants and served as the lair of an evil wizard controlling an artifact known as the Crystal Shard. Allegedly, many treasures are buried in its depths.
With a fleeting smile of gratitude, Keegan wipes his eyes, "Thank you, sprite. I'm afraid I don't have much to offer you for seeking out Garret... a discount on sled dogs should you need them... and the owner at the Luskan Arms is a friend so I can get you free rooms at the inn. I'd be grateful even if you find him... if..." He's not able to finish the sentence, but the implication is clear: He's willing to offer you what meager reward he can, even if you return Garret's body.
Watching the flickering fire beneath the metal plate that heats the kettle, Keegan furrows his brows, "I- well, I don't know much about the witch, I'm afraid. They say she dwells within Kelvin's Cairn and deals in curses. Not even sure why they call her Snow White."
"If he's dead," Alma finishes bluntly. "Which he likely is, if they were attacked. Even if they all survived, it will take us several hours to get there." There's no malice or impatience when she says it. Just matter of fact. Like she doesn't grasp how cruel her words are. "Do we believe it's worth it to leave immediately? If we're recovering bodies, it may be more efficient to stop and gather supplies first."
(If possible, I'd like to draw on any knowledge about hazards or obstacles in that area we should be aware of. Not sure if that'd be a survival or nature check so here's both, if it's valid at all.
