(IC) Quickleaf's Rime of the Frostmaiden

Quickleaf

Legend
Logrim gasps and moves quickly over to the hooded figure. From this distance he knows there is not much he can do but he had to make sure. He examines Astrix trying to see if there was any hope for them and beyond that to figure out if something more than the cold had killed them.

The hooded figure is frozen almost solid and utterly still, a tiefling woman with the beginnings of icicles forming on her horns, her once ruddy skin now pale rose and covered in frost. Logrim has seen dead bodies before, enough to tell no breath enters or leaves the tiefling's lungs. There are no sign of any wounds. Her half-lidded gaze is locked on the frozen smooth wall of ice covering the cyclopean rock-carved gate.

Upon her corpse, you find a seemingly empty potion that feels like it holds liquid frozen to one side, a leather-bound spellbook, an empty wineskin, and a dagger.

A glance toward the cyclopean rock-carved gate confirms there are faded runes in the archway, barely legible and not in any language Logrim knows.

GM: Jack @Aethmud will recognize the runes as the language of Giants, since he is the only one who speaks Giant. However, erosion has rendered them illegible - though with clever thinking you might devise a way to make the runes legible...
 

log in or register to remove this ad

Logrim looks over to the halfling Perilou.

"I'm sorry miss Perilou, there is nothing I can do for your friend. The cold was to much." He looks down at the belongings he found on her. "Here are her things. We can try to free her and transport her back with us for a proper burial."

Logrim looks to the others unsure what to do and clearly uncomfortable. He awkwardly turns his attention to the gate as a way to remove himself from the social interaction. He gapes at their size.

"Who do you think made that?"
 

happylace

Explorer
Alma braces herself against the cold once more as they head further up the mountain. Prospects aren't looking good. So when they finally come upon the unmoving figure huddled in the snow, there's no doubt in her mind what's happened. Still, she doesn't protest to Logrim checking. No harm in being sure. "Well, it was the most likely outcome," she remarks. "It will add to the peril, transporting her body back down, but I suppose we won't need to worry about being careful."

She turns her attention up to the gate, the red arcane light in her hand shimmering against frozen layers of ice. She squints up at the runes, but the script--what's even legible of it--is entirely foreign to her. She sifts through memories, trying to recall any information of known communities in this area. But they come up blank. "I'm not familiar with the area's history. Is anyone else?" She looks back at the rest of the group.

History check: 1D20+4 = [3]+4 = 7
 

Quickleaf

Legend
Alma braces herself against the cold once more as they head further up the mountain. Prospects aren't looking good. So when they finally come upon the unmoving figure huddled in the snow, there's no doubt in her mind what's happened. Still, she doesn't protest to Logrim checking. No harm in being sure. "Well, it was the most likely outcome," she remarks. "It will add to the peril, transporting her body back down, but I suppose we won't need to worry about being careful."

She turns her attention up to the gate, the red arcane light in her hand shimmering against frozen layers of ice. She squints up at the runes, but the script--what's even legible of it--is entirely foreign to her. She sifts through memories, trying to recall any information of known communities in this area. But they come up blank. "I'm not familiar with the area's history. Is anyone else?" She looks back at the rest of the group.

History check: 1D20+4 = [3]+4 = 7
GM: You can notice that your magical light seems to shimmer around the eroded runes. It seems likely, should you wish, that you could cast light upon the eroded runes to make them legible (to anyone who reads that language (Giant).
 

Steve Gorak

Adventurer
Aric looks at the frozen figure and feels sorry for the poor creature and its hafling friend. He says out loud “I wonder why he didn’t take shelter inside the gate, at least he would have been protected from the wind

He takes a closer look at the body to see if he can find any additional information

 

Quickleaf

Legend
Aric looks at the frozen figure and feels sorry for the poor creature and its hafling friend. He says out loud “I wonder why he didn’t take shelter inside the gate, at least he would have been protected from the wind

He takes a closer look at the body to see if he can find any additional information

The halfling Perilou approaches, gasping for a moment, and then placing her hands on the sides of the female tiefling's hooded head. "Astrix! Why'd you have to run up mountain from the yetis, you daft wizard?" Sniffling, Perilou sets herself down on a rock realizing that she is the sole survivor of the three companions who ascended Kelvin's Cairn.

GM: You can tell the front of the tiefling's body is more frozen than the back, which is odd considering you found her corpse upright, not lying down in the snow. It's almost as if a blast of cold struck her from the front, and she later froze to death.
 

Steve Gorak

Adventurer
Aric tells his companions “Something’s not right here, he go struck by a blast of cold, and then froze. He didn’t want to go through the gate.” Looking at Alma he adds “Can you check if there is a ward on the gate or if the runes are magical? I wouldn’t be surprised if this poor fellow succumbed to magics protecting the gate”
 

Aethmud

Explorer
Jack's brow furrows as he peers at the faded marks. "These etchings have seen better days. So faded. They're written in Giantese, can tell you that much for sure."

"You know, I had a chance at one point to learn some of the finer details of Giantese writing."
he relaxes into a wistful expression, as he begins to recount yet another tale with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "It all started when I lost a bet to a dryad, renowned in the Feywild not only for her cunning but also as a master matchmaker. My forfeit? To serve as translator for a lovesick hill giant, who'd become deeply smitten with a particularly statuesque and stoic birch tree."

He chuckles, shaking his head at the memory. "This wasn't just any run-of-the-mill infatuation, oh no! Our lovelorn friend was a budding poet at heart. He'd spend hours, quill in hand – well, more like a sprig of willow branch, really – composing the most heartfelt, if slightly ponderous, love sonnets for his beloved birch. And there I was, obligated to translate his giant-sized affections into something a bit more... tree-friendly.

"By the end of it, not only had I become fluent in Giantese, I'd also became quite adept at transcribing massive love poems onto parchment. Etching into granite? That, I left to the giant – my talents lie more in finesse than brute strength! As for the birch tree, she remained unimpressed. But the giant, in his simple, earnest way, seemed blissfully unaware of the tree's lack of interest. He claimed their love was as enduring as the mountains, steadfast and unyielding.

"The giant, bless his heart, mistook the tree's stoic stillness for a kind of bashful acceptance of his romantic overtures. Every gust of wind rustling through her leaves, he saw as her way of whispering sweet nothings back to him. When she'd sway gently in the breeze, he'd interpret it as a demure nod to his grand declarations of love. In his lovestruck mind, her rooted silence could only be a profound reciprocation of his deep and mountainous affection."


Jack chuckles a bit at the memory, and then he takes a step closer to the faded runes, his mouth widening into a grimace as he reaches toward his phial of faerie dust. "I could sprinkle some faerie fire on the marks and make them more visible. But it could be a trap. I wouldn't want our stories to end with us as mere icicles atop this mountain," he says, nodding to the frozen tiefling, "...might not be worth the risk..."

As he hesitates, his eyes dance with the thrill of the gamble, a hint of recklessness creeping in. "You know, if you think about it, the potential reward probably outweighs the risk. Unveiling these runes might just be the key we need," he muses, thumbing the cork of the phial. "I'm inclined to light them up and see what secrets they're hiding. Fortune favors the bold, not the cold, am I right?"

Jack pauses, glancing around at his companions, his expression open and inviting input. "Mind you, I've been wrong maybe once or twice before. If there's a different path you see, my ears are as open as this phial might soon be."
 

Necropolitan

Adventurer
The halfling Perilou approaches, gasping for a moment, and then placing her hands on the sides of the female tiefling's hooded head. "Astrix! Why'd you have to run up mountain from the yetis, you daft wizard?" Sniffling, Perilou sets herself down on a rock realizing that she is the sole survivor of the three companions who ascended Kelvin's Cairn.
Zeth moves to comfort Perilou.

"I'm incredibly sorry for your loss. I lost the entire crew I came here with, so I know how hard this must be."

OOC
: Deception or Persuasion, either way it's 1D20+5 = [10]+5 = 15

He leaves out the part about what kind of crew they were and the fact that he's not particularly broken up about their deaths beyond how it left him alone in the frozen wasteland with no way of retrieving the cargo until he'd joined his current team, but Zeth felt that sharing that might lessen the ability of what he said to help the halfling emotionally.

Aric tells his companions “Something’s not right here, he go struck by a blast of cold, and then froze. He didn’t want to go through the gate.” Looking at Alma he adds “Can you check if there is a ward on the gate or if the runes are magical? I wouldn’t be surprised if this poor fellow succumbed to magics protecting the gate”
Zeth retreats from the gate. If need be he can apply his expertise, but until then he'll let someone else deal with whatever trap gets set off.

"I might be able to figure something out if it's magical, but you'll need to find out if it's safe first."

"You know, I had a chance at one point to learn some of the finer details of Giantese writing." he relaxes into a wistful expression, as he begins to recount yet another tale with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "It all started when I lost a bet to a dryad, renowned in the Feywild not only for her cunning but also as a master matchmaker. My forfeit? To serve as translator for a lovesick hill giant, who'd become deeply smitten with a particularly statuesque and stoic birch tree."

He chuckles, shaking his head at the memory. "This wasn't just any run-of-the-mill infatuation, oh no! Our lovelorn friend was a budding poet at heart. He'd spend hours, quill in hand – well, more like a sprig of willow branch, really – composing the most heartfelt, if slightly ponderous, love sonnets for his beloved birch. And there I was, obligated to translate his giant-sized affections into something a bit more... tree-friendly.

"By the end of it, not only had I become fluent in Giantese, I'd also became quite adept at transcribing massive love poems onto parchment. Etching into granite? That, I left to the giant – my talents lie more in finesse than brute strength! As for the birch tree, she remained unimpressed. But the giant, in his simple, earnest way, seemed blissfully unaware of the tree's lack of interest. He claimed their love was as enduring as the mountains, steadfast and unyielding.

"The giant, bless his heart, mistook the tree's stoic stillness for a kind of bashful acceptance of his romantic overtures. Every gust of wind rustling through her leaves, he saw as her way of whispering sweet nothings back to him. When she'd sway gently in the breeze, he'd interpret it as a demure nod to his grand declarations of love. In his lovestruck mind, her rooted silence could only be a profound reciprocation of his deep and mountainous affection."

Zeth is reasonably sure that the fairy is telling outrageous lies. He's not sure if it's some metal condition or Jack just likes lying and Zeth's not going to outright call him a liar, but there's got to be some way of checking to see if any of those tall tales are true, right?

"That's...interesting. You've definitely led a more exciting life than me, not that I envy you. I'd rather have a glass of wine, a seat in front of a warm fire, and a good book than an adventure. At worst I was expecting seasickness when I came out here, not to risk my life."
 

Neurotic

I plan on living forever. Or die trying.
"I'd like nothing more than to get into a warm cave. But this one seems dangerous." Lumrolur looks over the runes
"I cannot read them, but I can probably strengthen them or delete them if they're dangerous."

He looks over the door, door frame, ground in front of the door and in general does everything to find and neutralize any and all traps.
"There are always signs, even if only traces of magic components or smallest of scuff marks. But this surface thing, with sky constantly falling with something, water running over everything...maybe it is deleted by now."
 

Remove ads

AD6_gamerati_skyscraper

Remove ads

Upcoming Releases

Top