(IC) Quickleaf's Rime of the Frostmaiden

[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.