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As he is hit with the spores, it appears that Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight has thrown off their effect, until he shrieks out in pain and anguish. Grey tendrils spiderweb out from the ring, over his hand. For now, they are limited, but all can see that the curse is working its will over the the little goblin.
Tears come to his eyes, as he is reminded of his mortality. "I WILL be a HERO! I will make Jorvik like me!" he cries out, though every ounce of his body wants to run away and crawl up into a ball.
The purple mold burns from Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's fire, not nearly as hot as he would have wished. A tiny voice in the back of his head hopes that the person inside is not hurt, but he pushes the tought back, due to the problem at hand.
The Snow goblin then backs up a step, as it is the orange mold-zombie-thing that is on top of him and Aoife. Hoping that he can throw well, he grabs a bomb, and lobs it at the orange mold-troll. So distraught is he, that he forgets to exclude himself, but he does not forget to exclude Aoife. Knowing he has to be perfect, and be a hero, he focuses harder than he has focused before.
The orange hued mold cannot seem to move out of the way in time from Aoife's greatsword, and great chunks of it come off its victim to coat the young girl's weapon.
Unaware of an incoming bomb, it also can't pull back enough to avoid the flames... the searing flames. An inhuman hissing shriek like a boiling kettle erupts briefly from the thing.
Kuragin concentrates, seeks new fates. There are Ishbaad's. The Oread's many destinies glow in earthly colours - so very different from Jorvik's. Kuragin gathers them all into his hold, cutting away the dull and dark ones. Now only the bright strands of fortune guide the inquisitor's hand.
Ishbaad calculates his next move. Striking the mossy thing could damage the person underneath, though it looked as though the one in particular they came to save may already be saved.
If he dies... he dies.
Ishbaad steps forward, adjusting his footwork to give him power behind his strike. He lunges his spear forward, hoping the point catches the moss and doesn't plunge through to the man underneath.
for
With a mighty blow from Ishbaad's acquired boar spear, the mold - still aflame - slips from the man it was inhabiting. Slightly more rotund than Finngarth, this man is clean shaven with platinum blonde hair. He mouths a silent 'thank you' before falling to the ground unconscious.
Meanwhile, Sylgja rushes over to her husband and cradles his head in her hands, "Thank you, thank you for saving him!" Tears of joy run down her face as she kisses his brow over and over. Clearly, the woman had all but given up hope of him being alive. Revenge, perhaps, was her primary motivator.
"Yes, thank you," Finngarth manages weakly, raising a hand towards the mold in the back of the cavern, "They were spawning more of their kind. Do you have any more of that fire to burn it away?"
"Umm Mrs. Sylgja," the child says a moment after adjusting the final straps and buckles holding the coldiron greatsword to her back. Aoife shifts slightly, tweaking her posture, and then cracking the knuckles of her right hand through the massive gauntlet. "You didn't mention anything about another person when you asked for our help."
"You only mentioned Mr. Finngarth," Aoife adds, nodding in the direction of the husband clutched lovingly in her arms. "So... who is he?" the child now points toward the stranger with platinum blonde hair.
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Jorvik breathes a sigh of relief as Ice deals with the last of the mold. To think there were plants that could take over his mind, he shudders at the thought.
Jorvik moves over to Ice, "Well done my friend. You did so well throwing those bombs that mold didn't have a chance. ice, I do like you. I have always liked you. And you are a hero." Jorvik claps him on the shoulder.
He attaches his bow to his quiver and draws his hammer, looking for more outbreaks of mold.
"I for one do not want to stay here a minute longer than we have to. I say we depart with all haste, and seal this cave up like a tomb."
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"Jorvik, if you like me, why you no call me by my name? Me is Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, not Ice. Maybe you not understand that for goblins our name is everything that we are. That why we never write it down, because if you do, the words steal a little bit of ourselves, and soon we not be who we are.
"Maybe me not always live up to name, but me try. And you are always Jorvik... Not Jorvie, or Jor. You strong hero, with strong name. Me just little, scared goblin with long name, but that is all me have. " He grabs Jorvik in a hug... The jadwiga can feel the little guy shaking... Not to mention the fact that he sees the evil black veins coming out from the ring.
"This other person must be the 'troll' Finngarth and I spotted earlier," admits Sylgja, "Though I have no idea who he is. He seems... highborn to look at him. He has the hair of the north, but his is shinier and a little more silver than most. He also doesn't look like he wanted for food - and who knows how long he's been starving out here eating only mold? He must have been quite well-rounded before he was taken."
Sylgja doesn't seem to show any particular animosity towards Jadwiga, only stating the facts as she sees them.
Shortly afterwards, the companions exit and the blonde man is taken from the cave. Everyone watches as Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight does his thing. He outdoes himself this time - or perhaps the mold was particularly flammable - as wave after wave of explosions rock the cave. Black smoke pours out of the cave entrance. No-one is under any doubt about
"Well, thank you very much again!" says Sylgja with a happy expression on her face, "Again, I extend my invitation for you to stay warm for the night at our house. We have plenty of food - Finngarth is an excellent hunter and I am good at foraging - and I also have that reward for you." She looks sheepishly at her husband. Perhaps the man will not be as happy to part with his favorite bear trap as she was.
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"AH, yet more to learn from my little friend." Jorvik gives Ice a side hug to show that he cares for the little goblin.
"Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, we humans use shorter names as a way to express affection. I was doing it because I wanted to show you I liked you. Now if that offends you or upsets you, then you have my utmost apology. I shall call you whatever your prefer." Jorvik flashes the blue goblin a big smile.
Turning to Sylgja, "We would be happy to accept an invitation to shelter in your home tonight. We are in need of supplies as ours are all spoiled. Maybe we can work out an arrangement. I believe that we are in need of enough to feed nine people for a few more days at least.
I am interested in why you chose the edges of the Hoarwood to stake your claim. It is not the easiest habitation to thrive in."
[ooc[]Sense motive always on - thanks GM[/ooc]
"Supplies? Well, we can certainly help you out there!" Sylgja says cheerily, before narrowing her eyes at Jorvik's probing, "We live out here because we prefer privacy. I would rather not go into it any more than that... but suffice it to say we live quite well out here and nowhere in Irrisen is an 'easy habitation to thrive in'. Like everyone else in this country, we do what we can to survive."
Suddenly, the conversation is cut off as Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's fire becomes an inferno. Despite lacking a fuel source, flames lash the entrance to the cave and writhe around. Those who brave the heat to stare directly at the fire note that it seems to be taking form. Demonic horns and tendrils briefly flash within the flames as though solidifying before breaking apart and dancing away into the air. Moments pass and everyone notices that Coramus is staring, transfixed by the display. Tears pour down the man's face and he mutters, "Should never have come back..." before falling to his knees and sobbing.
The display continues for almost a minute, the wizard gazing at the blaze for the whole time before suddenly, all flame disappears. Coramus from then on refuses to say a word or do anything other than walk, eat or sleep. He shuns any attempt at communication, but his sleep is fitful and his dreams are all nightmares.
It vexes me. I am vexed.
"Indeed, m'lady. This land is harsh. Please do not mind my companions questions, he is protective, like me, and our friends are dear to us, much like your husband is to you. I have not been in this land long, but have learned quickly that strangers are far more often looking to kill you rather than help you."
Ishbaad looks back at Nadya, pausing for a moment. "Present company excluded." He offers a faint smile.
"Supplies are what we are after, and perhaps a warm bed. We have done you a favor, and I will not apologize for saying that we did it with that in mind. This of course, does not mean we cannot be friendly for the time we know each other. You will forgive us please for being cautious, and I will not fault you for doing the same. Let us at least make our way back to your home, and continue our conversation there."
Ishbaad, after speaking so plainly, begins to swat at his behind, perhaps as if he has passed gas, or there were some stinging insect hanging around his backside. Whatever it is he is doing, he looks quite foolish.
"*Ahem* We should be off."
Listening to the sincere dialog between Jorvik and Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, Aoife finds her breath stopped up slightly be the kind words that pass between them. She then understands that she had done the same to the goblin, shortening his name and giving it, she had thought, a cute and clever nickname. Icy, she had called him many times, but had never meant any offense by it. In fact, just as Jorvik had said, she had intended the opposite of hurting him by it, it was supposed to make him feel more included and loved by her, it is the same as she would have done for any of the other children that grew up in the same town as she. But now she realized, with a further pang of sadness, that there was so much she did not understand about Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. The children she had grown up around had each given nicknames to one another, and Aoife especially had received them because her name had always seemed so odd and difficult for others to pronounce, and so she thought it only natural to do the same for the goblin.
She had always done the same for Uncle Ishbaad too, shortening his name, and now Aoife questioned if even he did not care for it.
"I'm sorry too, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight," she says with her head bowed and failing to make eye contact with the goblin. As the blaze lights up the nearby tunnel it casts a red glow against her face and sets the slight tears welling her eyes to twinkling. It is clear by her countenance that she feels down for having hurt her now younger brother for so long without even realizing it. "I didn't meant to hurt your feelings by not calling you by your full name. I hope you can forgive me..."
Turning from Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, her attention pulled by a fresh set of words rising above the roar of the nearby fire, the child looks up to her guardian, and sees his odd gesture toward Sylgja.
Her head tilts sideways in recognition of his intention, but does not say anything in response. The child looks up to Sylgja and regards her carefully, for a moment there is a flicker behind Aoife's eyes as she compares the woman to Mierul, and the child shudders involuntarily at the thought.
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"OOoooOOOOOooooOooOOOO!" Ice Melts Quietly in Summer says, starting once more at the fire.
When Aoife talks to him, he replies, "Me understand, Aoife. Me know that longshanks have different understandings of the world. Maybe because we goblins is so small, so hated by most of the world , thta we think so strongly of our names. Maybe if he world not think that one goblin is like every goblin.... bu that not the world we live in.
"You no offend Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, Aoife, we always be friends. Me think you and me best friends in world, and me do anything t make sure you safe, even if it hurt me."
"Boss? You in your fit-state again? Mebbe me blast you out, like me do five months ago..."
For the most part, Kuragin ignores the happy reunion of Sylgja and Finngarth. Such public displays are mostly very akward. But the Jadwiga thanks the woman for her offer on supplies and place to sleep. They need food, and his companions would probably enjoy a night shielded from the eternal winter of Irrisen.
However, the blond man is interesting. Kuragin spends a moment studying him, if he could spot any recognizable features of Jadwiga bloodlines. But just as Sylgja said, he doesn't quite look commoner. "This man might have an interesting tale to tell. We best try to nurse him back to health. Does anyone have good knowledge on remedies?"
The witch stares at the inquisitor's strange behavior for a moment. Southerners...
"Thank you, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight," the child says looking warmly at her companion. "You are an amazing friend and I'm lucky to have you around. I'll make sure to call you properly... how you prefer to be called... from now on."
"If more people could just meet you, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight," Aoife adds smiling. "They might see that goblins and people aren't as different as we sometimes think."
Following the short but warming exchange with her younger brother, Aoife falls in line and prepares to make the trek back to Sylgja's cabin. A short time spent fidgeting with her gear allows the child to adjust her snowshoes, align her snow-goggles, and securely cinch her heavy winter coat tightly about her small, delicate frame. Even with all the precautions the chill wind still seems to cut straight through her.
I hope they have a fire burning and warming the cabin for us, she hopes silently to herself.
"I am trained in healing, Kuragin. I concur, there may be some information we can learn from whoever this is."
Ishbaad continues walking forward as the group begins to make their way back to the cabin.
As an afterthought that he tries to make look like was part of his thought process all along, "And it would be cruel to just let the man die out here in the cold."
Ishbaad grimaces at Aoife's innocence, but this he does not let show on his face.
If only you knew the true nature of goblins, you would know how exceedingly rare this snow goblin is, Aoife. Yet another piece of your innocence that will fall... eventually. But not now. Iomedae I pray that you keep the goblin hordes off of us as we travel, I fear what she might do thinking they can all be saved.
Ishbaad, after speaking so plainly, begins to swat at his behind, perhaps as if he has passed gas, or there were some stinging insect hanging around his backside. Whatever it is he is doing, he looks quite foolish.
Sylgja looks alarmed as Ishbaad makes that motion and quickly whips her tail back up inside her dress. Alas, but the motions Ishbaad made were so obvious that only the least observant of his companions could possible not have noticed.
Nadya and the boys come out to greet the returning companions.
"You're back! Yaaaaaay!" cry Orm and Mjoli as they rush to embrace Aoife then Ishbaad and Jorvik. The look cautiously to Ice Metls Quietly in Sunlight, trying to gauge if he's up for some fun or if he's still moping. Orm hurls an experimental snowball at the goblin to check the temperature of the situation.
The ball of powdery snow explodes off the goblins' shoulder.
"Umm...." begins Mjoli, "What's wrong with Grandpa Coramus?"
Finngarth and Sylgja laugh at the boys' antics, and lead everyone inside the cabin. Nadya has managed to get quite the warm fire going, and everyone but the always-toasty Kuragin is glad for the chance to remove the chill from their bones. The cabin is simple but well stocked. Sylgja's assertions about Finngarth's survivalist abilities were not exaggerated, and it seems that she is a keen cook.
While she brews a fresh pot of stew, she invites Ice Metls Quietly in Sunlight over for a private chat, closing the door of the kitchen behind him.
"I noticed that ring you wear is... well, hurting you - a lot," she begins, "It is cursed, is it not?"
Without really waiting for an answer, she continues, "I have a scroll that could help with that. I can read it for you, if you like, or I'm sure one of your companions would be able to use it."
Sylgja reaches up to the top shelf of the kitchen and retrieves a scroll of worn vellum. Smiling, she passes it down to Ice Metls Quietly in Sunlight.
Meanwhile, Finngarth pops out to their shed and returns with a massive bear trap in hand. "Thank you all so very much for saving my life. May this trap bring you as much luck as it has me... well, except for what happened yesterday that is! It is yours, with our deepest gratitude."
"This is a mighty gift from a man who counts on the wilderness for survival." Ishbaad says, passing the trap to Jorvik. "And I wouldn't get to down on yourself for yesterday, that fungus is a blight, and has eradicated entire towns. No trap could have stopped that from happening."
As the group settles in the warm home, Ishbaad pulls Sylgja aside.
"You appear human, but your tail marks you as something different. My companions and I have been both helped and hunted since our time here. I mean no disrespect, but it's best we understand who and what you are now, before someone else misunderstands later."
Ishbaad's face is stone, figuratively. His words carry no aggression.
"You needn't fear us, or worry about our judgements. We travel with a snow goblin and two jadwiga, and the girl-child is likely the best one of us to have in a fight on your side. We are strange, and so if that is all you are as well, then we are all in good company. Your benevolence is clear, and your gratitude is obvious. It seems clear that all of us could benefit greatly from our chance meeting, and I aim to make sure that there are no surprises, for either of us."
Ishbaad pauses for a moment, then adds on, "I would like to hear the story of why you and your husband are out here alone. I have an suspicion that you and I are more alike than you might think."
Nearly everyone of Jewel's family, and the entire town were outraged when they found out about us. A human and an Oread? But there are things deeper than simple race...
Sylgja sighs, undeniably caught by the perceptive oread. "Thank you for maintaining my secrecy," she begins sincerely, "Though the subtlety of your hand signals might need a bit of work. Your assurances are also most welcome. It seems you have stumbled on the prime reason Finngarth and I shelter so far away from civilization. You see, I am what is known as a huldra."
She reaches over her cloak and pulls it off, turning around. As her hair twirls over her shoulder in a cascade of magnificent red autumnal tones, Ishbaad can clearly see her fox-like tail and where her clothing depresses inwards to reveal her hollow back.
"You've probably heard the legends - we were created by trolls practicing witchcraft and we lure faithful husbands from their homes at our troll mistresses' behests," a look of utter distaste crosses her mouth, "Which is utterly ridiculous. We are creatures of the First World, and predate trolls by many triillennia (You do not know the word? A 'trillennia' is a millennium of a millennium of millennia, or a billion years).
"Still, those rumors persist and a relationship like ours..." she looks lovingly through to the next room where Finngarth is playing with Orm and Mjoli, "... is abhorrent to most folk of Irrisen. I cannot hide my nature indefinitely, so we hide ourselves instead."
Price: 6,300gp
Slot: None
CL: 5th
Weight: 10lbs
Aura: Faint transmutation
This bear trap looks no different from any other ordinary bear trap (Pathfinder RPG Ultimate Equipment 76), but it has several additional magical abilities. On command, an insidious bear trap snaps shut, opens to release a trapped creature, or resets itself. The trap can also be set to ignore a creature that speaks a password (designated by the person setting the trap), thus preventing the trap from triggering when the creature enters the trap’s location. In addition, the person setting the trap can effortlessly insert and withdraw the spike designed to secure the trap into the ground or even stone.
Once per day, an insidious bear trap can be commanded to turn invisible for up to 5 hours or until triggered. While invisible, the insidious bear trap is virtually impossible to spot or disable (+40 to the DCs for Perception and Disable Device checks), though the person who set the trap can still see it. The trap receives no bonus on its melee attack roll. If a target of the trap has the trap sense class ability, it retains those bonuses to avoid the trap’s attack. Additionally, once per day, an insidious bear trap can also be set to emit an audible alarm or mental ping, as per the alarm spell, when it is triggered.
"Thank you, M'lady, for your honesty. I find myself constantly surprised by this land and its people, though I have only been in it for a very short time. Your tale... er... story that is, reminds me somewhat of my own. Thankfully in the southlands, my late, human wife and I did not need to hide. Of course, that didn't stop the gossip." Ishbaad smiles warmly.
"I have learned to look for the blessings of my goddess, Iomedae, in the strangest places. I will not question our good fortune. Let us relax and rest. Tomorrow morning we will be on our way and leave you and your husband in peace. Your offer to Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight is most gracious. I expect he will show his gratitude as only a quirky, good snow goblin can." Ishbaad cracks a wry grin at the subtle irony of the last statement.
Ishbaad returns to the room where the group has gathered, and looks around for Jorvik and Kuragin. Best to warn them before they draw the wrong conclusions. To his relief, he finds the two Jadwiga standing outside, having a private conversation. He leaves the children and goblin in the warm house to continue their play, and clears his throat to announce his presence as he approaches the northmen.
"There is more to our hostess than what meets the eye, but she has been honest and forthright with me, and by that has given me no reason to distrust her. Her and her husband live out here to avoid judgement by their peers, something with which I believe we are all familiar with. One night here will be good for us, after these last few days under the stars. Once we have resupplied, we can continue on to Whitethrone.
And while on one hand I admit I have no reason not to trust our hosts, I would not throw caution to the wind. We should still stick to our night watch schedule, if at least to maintain discipline. I am worried about Coramus as well. Our dear little goblin friend is dealing with enough right now, I only hope that his boss' current state doesn't send him down a darker path. We may need to ask Nadya to take Coramus' place in the watch schedule."
Ishbaad pulls the corners of his yeti cloak a little tighter to protect against the biting wind. He rubs his hands together for a little extra warmth, and scans the skyline in subconcious vigilance.
Examining the magical trap Jorvik exhales in wonderment.
"This truly is a wondrous device and an excessively generous gift. We will put this to good use.
As for your reasoning to homestead here, I can understand. I have spent may months in the Hoarwood and consider it a second home. The inhabitants that live on the outskirts fall into two general groups. Those that practice evil and wish to hide, and those that have had evil done to them and wish to hide. I firmly believe you to be the latter rather than the former and know that we wish no more evil to befall you.
Ishbaad you speak wisely. We shall shelter here and keep our current watch schedule.."
After some contemplation, Jorvik once more addresses thier hosts. "You have given us much, with the magical trap and helping to cure our friend Ice melts quietly in sunlight. Is there some other service that we can perform for you? Also is there any information you can share with us as we journey northwards?"
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To Sylgja, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight says, "For me? But me not good goblin... me only try. Me deserve bad ring, 'cause me take it from friends. It was a good ring before me take it.
"Can you use scroll on Boss Coramus, 'cause it look like he need it more. It better that he get better than Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight."
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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight checks Coramus over to see what's wrong. . He spends most of his free time making sure that his mentor and friend is ok. Other than that, he will start brewing potions of endure elements.
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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's eyes seem to glare, momentarily, but then he notices Coramus, and it goes away.
While Sylgja makes preparations for the night, she chats with Ishbaad and Jorvik, "You have already performed more of a service for me than I could possibly ask of you - saving my husband. For that you have my eternal gratitude and you need do no more for me.
"I regret that I have little current information about your journey further north, though. I have spent little time outside of our own little area of the Hoarwood. I do wonder, however, what you intend to do with the unconscious man we took back with us. He is still sleeping, and we do not mind caring for him... but will wake eventually no doubt."
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight checks out his 'boss'. Coramus isn't cursed or anything of the kind. He seems responsive after a fashion, but apparently is just refusing to talk or eat. The canny goblin seams to remember something known as a 'fugue state' which seems quite similar to what the wizard is experiencing - a psychological episode. He would need mental care to get anywhere, and no spell that Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight knows of could cure him.
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight also checks over the unconscious man. He notes that he is in something akin to a coma. His wounds were far more severe than Finngarth's - perhaps inflicted by Finngarth himself - and he was dominated for much longer. He is unlikely to wake any time in the next day or so.
The youth looks over the sleeping man, her eyes drifting over his unmoving frame with concern. As she regards him, she cannot help but wonder where he came from and how he got to this place.
"Where do you think he came from?" Aoife asks aloud, pondering the question. "There doesn't seem to be much else in the area, so why was he here? Maybe passing through and took shelter in the cave... but this place seems to be far removed from everything, that folks passing through seems unlikely, so I can't help but wonder if he came here for a reason."
"You don't mind caring for him?" she asks Sylgja, smiling at the woman and taking heart that there were actually kind people still to be found in the north outside of those she presently traveled with. "That is very kind of you... He might know more news of the region where are heading to, if we can only get him to wake up."
"But how do we stir him from sleep without hurting him more?" she asks to no one in particular.
Kuragin eyes the scroll with interest, feeling the power inside. "Such magic is still beyond my capabilities, but earlier I was able to remove the curse on Aoife with a similar scroll. But it is risky, and a failed attempt ruins the scroll. Within time I believe I will be able to learn to cast the spell myself. But that would mean our goblin friend needs to suffer the ring for some time."
Then, the matter of the stranger...
"I would sure like to talk with this man. But if you think he will not come to his senses in days, it might not be very sensible to stay here waiting. Unless Ishbaad has some magics that would heal him."
"While I do not have magic to heal the damage he is suffering from, I do have skill in healing. It might be the last good thing Jewel gave to me before she left."
Ishbaad moves over to the man, taking a closer look. He sees the concern in Aoife's eyes for this man she has never met.
I don't know what information this man holds in his mind, but anything is better than nothing.
"This will take some time. The healing process is not instant, like magic is. Perhaps in the morning he will be awake enough to talk to. Sylgja, I require a few things." The Oread says as he begins his inspection.
Sylgja provides Ishbaad with whatever she can to help the man's healing process and the oread makes sure he is well looked after overnight.
The following day, the man rouses groggily, "Wha? Who? Huh? Is something going on?" It looks like he can barely see you, and is constantly distracted by minor things around the room. "Ooh, is that... could it be... is it, a chair? Tee hee. I've seen those before, you know."
Sweet Desna. May you take me to your sweet embrace before I ever become this.
Yes. That is a chair. It is good to see you are getting your memory back. I am Jorvik the Bloodspeaker, and these are my companions. Our hosts are Syigja and her husband Finngarth. Do you know your name? Can we get you any thing to eat?"
Ishbaad gives the man some time to answer questions. It is clear he is not entirely with it, and so overloading him with things to answer wouldn't do any good.
After he has had time to process Jorvik's introduction, Ishbaad follows up, "Do you remember anything before you blacked out? Why you were out here? Where you are from?"
This will be interesting...
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"My name! Of course I know my name! It is... no, just wait a moment, I have it..." his eyes drift over the rest of the room, "That creature's name is 'door'. I just know it is! The land I am currently occupying is known as 'bed'... Now for my name, you say? Oh, why didn't you ask? Why doesn't anyone ask? It's very troubling. You know you should always introduce yourself properly, or the Bloodspeaker will get you. Wait, did I just hear that or is it an old wive's tale? In any case, beware of the Bloodspeaker.
"My name? Oh, well certainly. You need only ask and I will provide it! Oh, you want to know my name, do you? It's Taavi. Pleasure to meet you... and your name is? No need for that frustrated look. It's not like I was being evasive or... oh, that is called 'floor', I believe... but it is no longer moving. Have you defeated it? Or have you de-feeted it? Ha ho ha! Oh, your feet are still on it." Sick he might be, but he is definitely in good spirits.
"I'm hungry, though, not that you offered - but if you have any eggs and bacon, that would be much appreciated. Hold the mold! Ah! Definitely. No. Mold."
Ishbaad questions him.
"Before I blacked out? Well... I was... oh, you were there! You... were attacking me! No, wait... you attacked it! Oh, it. Yes... I remember. It made me eat mold. The eggs won't have any mold will they? I guess I could scrape it off, but I usually get the servants to do that for me. Do you have any servants? Are you servants? I'm not looking to hire any new... ones..." He trails off and is silent for a while, staring out the window.
"Hello? And who are all of you then?" he greets everyone happily as he turns back around to face them.
Ishbaad repeats his questions.
"From? Oh, I was born in Whitethrone under a witching star. They all are witching stars, really! Huh? More recently? Well, I was from some cave... oh, less recently?... the town of Hoarwood, actually. Isn't that where we are now? Or is 'bed' living somewhere else?"
"You... Ah... What about..." Ishbaad tries to get a word in edgwise with the rambling man. It's clear he isn't all there yet, a side-effect from his time spent as a moldy moss-creature.
"Food it is. Sylgja, I must impose on you again. I'll let the others work out with you a fair trade for foodstuffs and supplies for our continued journey. If you need anything delivered to whitethrone, this is a rare opportunity for you, as we could bring it with us. I do not expect we will be returning, however, so it would be a one way delivery. We will bring Taavi with us. There may be more we can learn from him. And its best his memory of this place remains vague, for both of your sakes." Ishbaad smiles.
Beware the Bloodspeaker? Does that have anything to do with Jorvik or his kin?
"So Taavi, tell me more of these servants you have. We aren't looking to get hired..." Ishbaad continues the conversation, not expecting much more than vagaries and distraction. Perhaps he would come around a little more on the trip to whitethrone.
If he lived there once, perhaps he can be of use to us...
We should serve this one scrambled eggs like his wits are.
When there is time, Jorvik addresses the group. "It is time we depart. Many difficult miles lay ahead of us. A fine strike team we have formed, three children and two invalids. I fear that we are becoming too philanthropic, yet when these situations present themselves I am in total agreement to lend a helping hand.
I know this, Whitethrone is a cruel, unmerciful place. We must try to steel ourselves a bit before our compassion is our undoing.
Ice ... sorry. Ice melts quietly in sunlight, what do you think we should do with Coramus? I miss him terribly so I can only imagine how challenging this must be for you."
"Servants... nothing more to tell," says Taavi, looking a little more lucid than before, "Just my household staff. You look strange... kinda... rocky. You're not human, are you? So not Jadwiga. Hmmm... friend of a Stylyagi no doubt! My sister, she loves to laugh at them. Do you know they wear funny clothes? Heh. You probably didn't notice, being foreign and all. Tee hee."
Sygja provides the companions with fresh supplies - enough to last all of them to Irrisen's capital. Winteryew nuts they note, not looking forward to subsisting on the bland but nourishing staple of Irrisen. With a fond farewell from Sylgja and Finngarth, the group departs and continues along their way to Whitethrone.
As the journey progresses, Taavi gradually improves over time. The companions discover that he is a ranger from Hoarwood and was on an expedition. His men either were killed or fled when he was taken by the mind-slaver mold and turned on them. He is too ashamed to return to his sister and actually seems happy to accompany the companions, "Heading to Whitethrone, eh? Maybe I can blend in there. Perhaps word hasn't reached the city yet and I can use some of my family contacts to move out west or something. Maybe get a commission in the army before they are any the wiser..."
Just under two days north west of Sylgja's homestead, a distant spec of bright, pure greenery attracts the companions' attention. They travel off the path for a while to investigate.
As they approach, the skies clear up and the air grows warmer. Sunlight shines down on fresh grass that has sprouted where the snow suddenly ends in clear line. As far as the eye can see, fir trees have shed any sign of white, and birch trees show signs of fresh new leaves. The sounds of rivulets of water and melting snow can heard everywhere.
A small brown rabbit hops past. It must have been here a while for it to have already shed its winter coat. As the group gradually removes layers to prevent sweating, they realize how hungry for animal flesh a diet of winteryew nuts has made them. First, though, they need to pack their furs away - it must be seventy five degrees here!
Jorvik gives silent thanks to Desna for the brief respite. Unslinging his bow Jorvik begins to search the area for scat and other animal markings.
"To taste some real meat again will be worth of a feast in any of your southern kingdoms. If you lack the skills to hunt check for any signs of animals while we try to bring down a worthy beast."
"This is a welcome reprieve." Ishbaad says. It sounds odd, with little inflection in his voice.
"Are we at the borders of Irrisen? Did we stray somewhere? How is it that there is a patch of spring in the middle of this frozen land. Somehow I find that as odd as the winter spilling into the Border Wood near Heldren. What is going on here?"
"I will help, Jorvik. There appears to already be a trail here."
Ishbaad takes his longspear in hand and moves down a path that has already begun to wear under the regular travel of some deer or elk sized animal.
Aoife says her goodbyes to the woman and her husband, speaking warmly and cheerfully. Deep down the child does not feel any great affection for the two, but they did teach her a valuable lesson, that not all in the north are set against her and her companions. She was beginning to grow weary and suspicious after her conversations with Uncle Ishy and Jorvik, but Aoife was happy to have been proven right and she hoped that her two companions were beginning to see that, perhaps, there were other ways to deal with a situation than killing.
Even so, her mind was occupied by another thought that rattled between her ears and brought an uncomfortable feeling to the pit of her stomach. This feeling had persisted for her ever since Taavi had awoken and cast a gloom over her mood by his seemingly mindless utterances. Yet, they were not mindless, they could not be mindless, because he had clearly stated they should beware of the Bloodspeaker. How this stranger could have known of that name she did not know, and was not quite yet prepared to ask.
As she questioned the meaning and extent of this warning, she turned slightly to look upon Jorvik. As her eyes fell upon him, she could not recall his terrifying declaration, that he was indeed the Bloodspeaker, and to cross him was to bring upon yourself a furious reckoning. Just as she could not help but question about Ishbaad's past, what he had done and what kind of man he truly was when she was not around, she wondered what she did not know of Jorvik.
She wondered if it would be better if she did not know of Jorvik's past, and instead if it was better to continue on as they were, for her to not look into it any further for fear what she might discover. She loved him now, after traveling so far together and they had been through together, they were family, and the fear of what might be revealed about her dear Jorvik shook her to the core.
"What is this place?" Aoife says, lazily unwinding the scarf from around her neck. Next she begins to unfastens he heavy winter coat and drop it carelessly to the ground. Before long the child has laid fully in the grass, spread her arms wide and splayed her fingers to brush through the blades of grass. Inhaling, the child takes in a great waft of the aroma of grass and earth.
How this stranger could have known of that name she did not know, and was not quite yet prepared to ask.
Ishbaad is rewarded for his hopes and dreams as he does indeed spot some elk tracks. He calls over Jorvik, excited by his find. The expert survivalist's eyes go wide. These tracks do indeed belong to an Elk, but from the gait, the depth of the footprints and the sheer size of them - this Elk must be at least four times the mass of a regular member of the species .
Still, due to a mixture of hunger and curiosity, the group presses on. Just over a rise, drinking from a stream of clear, recently melted snow is the magnificent beast. Its shoulder is at the height of a large man, and its spectacular antlers are over twelve feet wide. The creature, a megaloceros if Jorvik does not miss his guess, has yet to notice the new arrivals.
Ishbaad catches his breath, turning to the ranger, "What a magnificent creature... Jorvik, this creature would feed a small town... But what could it do if we tamed this creature? I cannot bring myself to kill it. I want to ride it, bend it to my will."
Ishbaad lays his longspear down on the ground, and whispers a prayer to Iomedae, both in thanks for the blessings in front of him, and for the courage to stand before this magnificent animal.
I do not know how to handle a wild beast. Iomedae, grant me the wisdom to see the solution for the challenge you have put in front of us.
With no discernible skill in working with animals, Ishbaad goes with his go-to, goddess granted ability. He slowly walks out over the rise, his hands splayed wide to his sides, palms facing down to the ground. He boldly speaks with the divine, hoping to keep the megaloceros from getting startled and running away.
"Be calm, my friend. We mean you no harm."
Aoife stumbles up behind the others while dragging her heavy coat behind her and across the grass with one hand, and her scarf in the other. She overhears Ishbaad's words to Jorvik and looks up to see the magnificent creature standing proudly in the summer clearing.
"Please, please, pelase," she stammers, tugging at both Ishbaad and Jorvik's legs. "Do not try to hurt it. We can't try to hurt it."
As she looks on, her guardian steps forward and begin to calm the mighty creature. She cannot help but look on in awe as the towering form of Ishbaad stands upright, but less threatening and imposing than she has ever seen before.
"We cannot hurt it... We were meant to find this creature... I do not think it will harm us... It feels like fate to find it here... We have come from the south, from the lands of summer to land of eternal winter, and found a noble beast in this redoubt of warmth..."
The enormous elk picks up its head, ears perked up and forwards as Ishbaad approaches. It steps back a pace as it notices the other companions, and perhaps would make to bolt - or charge. Ishbaad's hastily cast spell calms it significantly. It may be unafraid now, but it is still far from tame. After a moment, it even resumes drinking from the fresh stream.
"Tread carefully, friends. This is druids' work here. Nothing else could explain this pocket of summer. Why the White Witches haven't noticed and dispelled it, I do not know. They don't usually allow the druids to interfere with the winter of Irrisen."
Wearing his normal linen clothing, Kuragin is spared from reducing clothing to handle the warm weather. Still, the warm air feel odd against his skin. He has felt such only once before, during his brief visit to the southern lands. The whole idea of warm weather outdoors feels so alien to him, the witch decides to Detect Magic on the area, and investigate the megaloceros as well.
"And carefully with that elk as well. With druids around, even the animals might not quite be what they seem."
The child turns to face Kuragin, after hearing his words. "You think this place was created by a druid?" she asks, turning slowly to observe the surrounding scene of warmth and color. "Has this happened before, others trying to return summer to the eternal land of winter?
Aoife had heard of a mysterious group, Heralds of Summer's Return, during their time in Waldsby, and so she knew they were forces that opposed the Jadwiga. But it had never occurred to her that aside from directly opposing the Jadwiga, another way to combat their reign was to literally end the eternity of cold. She had not thought it possible to melt the snows in this place, yet around her was the proof.
"How do we find the ones who created this place?" she asks Kuragin in wonder.
Ishbaad can barely hear those talking behind him, so entranced he is by the giant elk. He continues to walk forward slowly, reaching down and grabbing a fistful of the grass that is growing in the exposed earth, and snaps off one of the budding branches. He holds it out carefully, hoping to entice the animal to eat.
As an afterthought, he breaths a prayer to Iomedae for guidance in interacting with the creature.
"Jorvik, this is your realm. I am out of my element. Is he not magnificent? He should be ours. What do we do, what can I do to help you win his favor?"
As a second afterthought, Ishbaad touches Jorvik's shoulder, calling for guidance for him as well.
"Friends, tread cautiously for this beast can kill quickly."
Jorvik slowly approaches the animal, speaking in a calming tone, trying to put the animal at ease. Reaching down a teaching a tuft of grease grass, Jorvik slowly extends his hand out hoping the majestic creature takes some.
As Kuragin concentrates on the magical emanations of the clearing, he finds that it glows in a moderate aura of abjuration and not the transmutation magic he was expecting. Could simply protecting this are be enough to allow summer through?
The elk does not shy away as Jorvik approaches, and it sniffs experimentally at the grass. If the beast were awakened, it might be thinking something like: Why is this man-thing trying to feed me grass from his hoof? There is plenty of grass on the ground.