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GM thunderspirit's Reign of Winter AP

Game Master thunderspirit

Heldren
Waldsby

Pale Tower


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Sinspawn ****

In the snowy lands of Irrisen, the witch queen Baba Yaga likes to keep her eyes on all her children, and she does so through her chicken-legged huts and their resident guardian dolls. Made in the image of her famous Dancing Hut, these strange huts watch the borders of this frozen land, keeping foreigners out while keeping the Irriseni in. According to the legends, If a hut dances around and refuses to let you in through its tiny door, you must stand in front of it and loudly call out,

"Hut, O hut, turn your back to the woods and your front to me."


Sinspawn ****

The adventure begins in the village of Heldren, a small village in Taldor just north of the Border Wood near Qadira. Perhaps you grew up here, or maybe you've just arrived in the past week or two and are in Heldren for your own reasons. In any case, rumors of strange, unseasonable pockets of wintry weather appearing across Taldor have begun to circulate among the town's gossip mongers.

The sleepy village of Heldren has rarely seen so much excitement or concern. Hunters from the nearby Border Wood speak of unnaturally cold weather at the height of summer that descended on the forest just days ago. Heavy snow followed, and those who returned spoke of an uneasy presence in the woods, as well as new, dangerous predators. No one knows what this event means, but the town's soothsayer, Old Mother Theodora, claims dark times lie ahead.

As if in proof of that dire prophecy, a badly wounded mercenary arrived in town yesterday, claiming to be a bodyguard of Lady Argentea Malassene. He told the village council that the noblewoman’s escort came under attack by bandits and strange, wintry creatures near the edge of the Border Wood. He alone escaped, and Lady Argentea was dragged away into the forest. Now the townsfolk cast fearful eyes toward the snowy forest, worried what else might emerge to threaten their peaceful village.


Male
Stats:
HP: 17/25, Init: +1, Perception: +0, Fort: +3, Ref: +4, Will: +3
Per Diem:
Cantrips: Dancing Lights, Daze, Guidance, Resistance, 1st Level: CLW, Ear Piercing Scream, Mage Armor, Ray of Enfeeblement, 2nd Level: Burning Gaze, Vomit Swarm x2

Loving this already. Arcane Marked until I finish up my character.


Male Human, Savior of Korvosa, Initiate of the Korvosan Guard
The Kegerator:
Power Attack (Furious Focus) with MW Keen Falchion +1: [dice]1d20+17[/dice] for [dice]2d4+10+9[/dice] damage.
Murder Hobo/8 Initiative:+4 - AC:26, T:15, FF:24 - HP:63/104 - THAC0:12 -
Crunch:
Fort: +12, Ref: +7, Will +5/+7 vs. Fear - Perception +0 / Stealth +0 - FAME:29/37

.


Male Human Ranger 8, AC 21, HPs 52/103, Int +3, (Bucho AC 22 HPs 81/81)

Hail


Male
Stats:
HP: 17/25, Init: +1, Perception: +0, Fort: +3, Ref: +4, Will: +3
Per Diem:
Cantrips: Dancing Lights, Daze, Guidance, Resistance, 1st Level: CLW, Ear Piercing Scream, Mage Armor, Ray of Enfeeblement, 2nd Level: Burning Gaze, Vomit Swarm x2

The man stands without country or allegiance. He is just shy of six feet, but a mere 10 stone of weight. His skin is a mélange of the Northern races, and with his mildly disconcerting features he could pass as any of the peoples to the rest of Avistan, but ever an outsider to the North. His raven blue-black hair is long and unkempt, another stark contrast to his Cheliaxian style beard. Most off putting is his dichromatic eyes. The right is black, the left is glacial blue. All in all his countenance is unwelcome and somewhat bizarre. The man's attire is yet another glossography of Avistan. His wide brimmed hat bespeaks Ustalev, yet the over-cloak is the latest in Taldoran nobility. Finally is his accent, as if not only his ever present ancestors come from all over, but as if he himself is from lots of different places. Already a master of more than a half dozen tongues it's clear he has been exposed to much in this world. In all this mixture is home nowhere, and therefore everywhere. This is Davosh the Wanderer, warlock and speaker for the Ancients.
Ever at his side, is Liska the arctic fox. Liska is extremely intelligent and active. She typically darts around her master's feet, unless he sends her forward to reconnoiter.


male Human Rogue 3 HPs 28/28, AC 17, FF12 Touch15), Init +5, (fort +2, ref +8, wil +3), Trap Spotter +11

checking in w/ new guy


male Human Rogue 3 HPs 28/28, AC 17, FF12 Touch15), Init +5, (fort +2, ref +8, wil +3), Trap Spotter +11

The lad stands off to the side, he seems a little awkward as if he isn't sure if he should come forward or not. Though tall, around six feet; his body still has the thinness of youth. He is easily marked as a Varisian from his olive skin and dark eyes to his comfortable traveling clothes. Yet his scarf wrapped head and silks are quite subdued compared to most Varisian's bright scarves. He wears three or four throwing axes on his waist and a brace of short spears are slung over his shoulder. The lad carries his weapons comfortably for one so young.


male Human Rogue 3 HPs 28/28, AC 17, FF12 Touch15), Init +5, (fort +2, ref +8, wil +3), Trap Spotter +11

Kappi has been in the village of Heldren for three days now. The young lad had an argument with his Family caravan and decided to leave for a while. Six months ago his caravan was attacked in the night by a large group of bandits out on the road. Though only fifteen years old, young Kappi stood with the men (and some women) to defend the wagons. He killed at least two of the bandits and possible more with some of his thrown weapons. Though the Varisian people are not a warrior society, still Kappi felt proving himself in battle and killing to protect the Family should have earned his place among the adults. He had a very good reason for wanting to be an adult. For a while he had been dallying with another young girl of the caravan. Part of the Family but not his blood family. If he was an adult they could be married. For Kappi's intentions were well known but had been told several times that "children can't get married". However, he shortly found the real reason he was treated as a child. The leaders of the Family had already had a marriage deal with Kappi's love. She was to be given to a man from a different Family. He was fifteen years Kappi's senior and much more wealthy. The girl whom Kappi's thought was his true love turned out to be quite happy when she found out about the arrangement. She told Kappi that what they had was fun but she would be better off married to a wealthier man. Young Kappi was crushed. He was despondent for several weeks, then he figured out what he would do. Soon he would be turning sixteen.
The night before he turned sixteen he told the family that he loved them and would see them again, but for now he had to go out and find his own way. Though a few family members were upset by his news, many were very supportive. Most of the gear he now carried was given to him as gifts in the morning before he set out.
Shortly after leaving on his own he found a job with a group of Taldane merchants. He worked for their caravan a road hand. He did good work for them, for he knew the job well as he had been helping with caravans his whole life. Young Kappi was doing fine till he tried to woo one of the older merchant’s daughters. She rebuffed his advances very loudly and demonstratively. The merchant gave him a few coins and left him in Heldren while they continued on the road to Quadira.
Having almost fifteen gold pieces the young lad didn’t worry about much for the first day and a half. He enjoyed lounging at the inn and drinking. While still trying to come up with a plan he strolled about the town and took a few odd jobs fixing and mending things with his tinker skills. As he sat in a quiet corner of the inn on the second night he heard the wild stories from hunters in the forest, stories of snow and cold in high summer. The next morning he spent some of his money on what cold weather gear could be found in the village. Later that day he couldn't believe the news from the wounded mercenary. It seemed an outrage to the village people that some fancy high born lady was taken prisoner by bandits. From living on the road Kappi knew the harsh truth of bandits and worse.
It sounded like this could turn out to be the "path" he was looking for. Though a little socially awkward the young rogue started to look around the village to see if there was anyone else who might be interested in some sort of rescue mission.


Male
Stats:
HP: 17/25, Init: +1, Perception: +0, Fort: +3, Ref: +4, Will: +3
Per Diem:
Cantrips: Dancing Lights, Daze, Guidance, Resistance, 1st Level: CLW, Ear Piercing Scream, Mage Armor, Ray of Enfeeblement, 2nd Level: Burning Gaze, Vomit Swarm x2

Davosh knows all to well that people don't find him charismatic in the least. He seeks knowledge, but by passively listening and doing his best to stay hidden in the crowd. Within the town, Liska stays close by her master's side. As he navigates the eddies and currents of the town he listens and watches.

Knowledge (local) do I know anything about Argentea Malassene? 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29

Muttering to himself, Davosh makes a mental note to seek out Old Mother Theodora soon. A crooked smile breaks his otherwise serious mien. People do not usually give the title "Old Mother" enough credit. First though, a team is needed, preferably someone with a sharp weapon, be it wit or blade.

Kappi stands out, even when he doesn't. Davosh does his best to appear personable, but it's hard. He'd rather talk to the ancestors than to his fellow man. He approaches the man from straight ahead, just in case he's got this wrong and it ends in his pockets being picked.

"Greetings traveler. My name is Davosh, and this here is Liska" The arctic fox gives a single bark in greeting. "I am recent to this town, and the ancestors told me that here is where I'm needed. There seems to be a thread of rumors and oddities here. There's something about you that tells me you're not a simple pilgrim. If you'd accept the company of a mildly crazy man and his fox, I think we can find fortune and glory together."


Sinspawn ****

Davosh:

Lady Argentea Malassene is a Taldan petty noble (and really, who isn't?). The Malassene family is not particularly well known, though Argentea is quite young and has a reputation as a headstrong lass. Scuttlebutt is that she was traveling from the city of Zimar to one of Taldor's canals so she could return by boat to the capital in Oppara.


male Human Rogue 3 HPs 28/28, AC 17, FF12 Touch15), Init +5, (fort +2, ref +8, wil +3), Trap Spotter +11
Davosh the Wanderer wrote:
"Greetings traveler. My name is Davosh, and this here is Liska" The arctic fox gives a single bark in greeting. "I am recent to this town, and the ancestors told me that here is where I'm needed. There seems to be a thread of rumors and oddities here. There's something about you that tells me you're not a simple pilgrim. If you'd accept the company of a mildly crazy man and his fox, I think we can find fortune and glory together."

The Varasian's eyes light up a little as Davosh mentions fortune and glory. Then the lad realizes that it is his turn to speak. Trying to fill the silence he blurts out, Uhmm... His young face turns slightly red but he manages to shake it off quickly. He nods to Davosh Greetings, my name is Kappi Matarito. He stared oddly at the fox for a moment a little distracted. It appears that recently Lady Luck has also brought me to this town. He pauses half a second as if trying to pull his words together. I think a small team of experts could find fortune in this situation.


Male
Stats:
HP: 17/25, Init: +1, Perception: +0, Fort: +3, Ref: +4, Will: +3
Per Diem:
Cantrips: Dancing Lights, Daze, Guidance, Resistance, 1st Level: CLW, Ear Piercing Scream, Mage Armor, Ray of Enfeeblement, 2nd Level: Burning Gaze, Vomit Swarm x2

"Well Kappi, the voices of the Ancestors tell me that we need more. Keep your eyes peeled, but look for a man with future, even if his present seems a bit....pedestrian or wide-eyed."

Grand Lodge

Male Human Oracle 1 Paladin 2 AC= 19; T=13; FF=16; HP 31/31; Init +3; Per +0; +8F +6R +8W

Having arrived in this town a few days prior, Edward was starting to like the little village, and some of the people in it. Having made friends with several of the locals, he accompanied them to hear what all the excitement is about.

Walking with a noticeable limp, he listened to the mercenary guards tale. Lady Argentea was taken. Ohhh!! A lady in distress!! I must help get her reunited with her family and friends.

Edward hears two people talking near him that garners his attention. He excuses himself from his friends for a moment, and walks towards the two gentleman. One of them tall, one with a fox weaving between his legs.

Hail gentlemen Edward says with an award winning smile Looks like some excitement has come to Heldren, and I couldn't help but overhearing a bit of your conversation. I too would wish to be part of this small team of experts. We have a Lady to rescue!

He grasps both of your hands My name is Edward Wynn Fell, it's a pleasure to meet you both.


male Human Rogue 3 HPs 28/28, AC 17, FF12 Touch15), Init +5, (fort +2, ref +8, wil +3), Trap Spotter +11

The young rogue nods in response to the strange Davosh. Though he has no clue what he is talking about. Dont all men have futures? And who are these Ancestors he is talking to?

Davosh seems almost as crazy as the wise women among his own people. Yet, somehow this calms Kappi. He seems a little off but at the same time like he does know things. The young gypsy lad decides to stick with him for at least now.
Not sure what else to say he invites Davosh and now this newcomer Edward to the table. Kappi is most comfortable drinking wine and offers to buy a bottle to share. Trying to figure out more about Davosh and Edwin he tells a little about himself. Ive lived my whole life among Varisian gypsies and Ive learned... uuhh... a lot of useful skills... Kappi looks a little unsure how to say what he wants to say. He takes a larger gulp of wine then he should and continues. Im not going to tell you Ive never ganked nothing in my life but I dont make my living by theft you see. But I know well most of the skills involved. Im pretty good with a blade too. He starts to pull a throwing ax from his belt then stops and pulls a knife instead. It looks well balance for throwing. He starts to pick out a target on the wall. He calls a wooden beam then suddenly throws the knife. 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
It hits the beam, not exactly dead center but close enough. Kappi smiles a bit and pours a little more wine. He looks to the others hoping they will share a bit.

Grand Lodge

Male Human Oracle 1 Paladin 2 AC= 19; T=13; FF=16; HP 31/31; Init +3; Per +0; +8F +6R +8W

Impressive friend it looks like you have practiced. Although now that I appear to lack appropriate skill in throwing things, I have traveled a fair amount in my time. Most of the time was with my mentor Henri Snow, but alas he's returned to Wayfinder

Knowledge(local) Lady Argentea: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
Knowledge(geography) Border wood: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

I can't say that I know much about the Lady, but I've been through the Border Wood and know a little about the area. Mayhaps the Apsu will put me on the right path to find her.

Edward looks around, till somebody catches his eye, and he points him out to the others.

Look at that guy over there, kinda looks a bit out of place. This may be the biggest town he's ever seen.


Level 3 Murder Hobo
Group Initiative:
[dice=Ali]1d20+8[/dice] [dice=Kappi]1d20+5[/dice] [dice=Vojtek]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Davosh]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Edward]1d20+3[/dice]
Greatsword:
Power Attack with Greatsword: [dice]1d20+7-1[/dice] for [dice]2d6+8+2[/dice] damage.
HP: 38/42 | Rage -> 4/10 | Initiative:+2 | AC:16, T:12, FF:14 (+1 vs. traps)
Crunch:
Fort: +6/+7 vs. Cold | Ref: +3/+4 vs. Cold | Will +1/+2 vs. Cold || Perception +0 | Stealth +2 || FAME:0/0 | XP:0/1,300

“Come closer young Vojtek, this tale is not one to speak aloud when it can be whispered one man to the next.”

Vojtek crept closer to his grandfather, a thrill and a surge of pride at being called a man, even tangentially. The wind was howling, fingers of its icy breath thrusting through the skins stretched across the window, and flickering the fire madly in the hearth.

“I was a lad of ten winters, about your age when the White first came. He swept out of the west from the mountains. We saw nothing of his approach until he was nearly upon us. My brother saw him first of all the tribe. He stopped in his tracks and stared. I looked at him, then followed his gaze until my blood froze.”

“In those days, the tribe was thriving. There were many clans, living and working on the tundra at the edge of the ice. We fished, we scraped what we could from the tundra, we tended small herds and we hunted and we were happy. Until that day.” The old man was lost in the past as he stared into the small flickering flame. He poked at the dried dung with a stick, and the meager fuel shifted and broke apart giving the light a redder tinge as the flames subsided into embers.

Vojtek listened closely. His grandfather was ancient and respected. He had always taken pains to talk to the boy patiently, to guide him in the old ways. Where the other boys picked things up quickly, Vojtek was slow to learn. He peered at his grandfather’s scarred and ancient face and tried to picture the words he spoke. His grandfather was talking quite slowly, which helped the boy to understand. The lad knew the tale well, which helped too.

“The White was upon us in a span of twenty heartbeats. It’s gaping maw spat a blizzard, concentrated into a searingly cold cone and its wings beat the air, sweeping snow, embers, tents and dirt into the air before him. The claws it held before it as it came were like the tusks of the largest walrus you could imagine. Its chest was a wall of ice and as it passed my brother and I, we were both knocked from our feet."

“I saw my home destroyed in the beast’s wake. It was scattered stones, splintered timbers and flying tufts of peat, and this was before it swung back for a second pass. Brave men ran to attack with spears which broke upon the beast’s hide. They shouted to the sky in impotent rage as it wheeled above.”

“It came again and again. It destroyed us. Our men died, some torn apart by claws, teeth or battered by its tail. Our people were encased in frost, our animals were devoured whole. The buildings were smashed. Before long the White was gone, leaving a mournful keening behind. On the tundra at the edge of the ice, where once was a proud and thriving people was left a wreckage.”

“My brother was dead. Of all our men, half were dead. Our women fared worse, crushed in their homes. Most were dead. That winter, many more died. Starvation stalked us, many froze, some fled south.”

Young Vojtek felt a seething rage. He hated the White, but he knew what was expected of him, what the elders demanded.

His grandfather continued, “We only survived that year through sacrifice. The two elders who survived the attack were afraid. They turned to the spirits for answers. They taught us to sacrifice to the White to keep it away. We slaughtered animals to the White, and for many years, the White stayed away from the tundra at the edge of the ice. We obeyed the elders but we bridled at the idea of offering obeisance to the beast that had taken so much from us. Nonetheless we spilled blood for the White each year.”

“After a handful of years, we began to forget the importance of our sacrifices. The scars remained, but life on the tundra at the edge of the ice was better. We had rebuilt and taken some women from the lowlands in raids. Life went on.”

“I was a man when the White came again.”

Vojtek shuddered, not from the cold which rarely affected him, but from the pain and fury he heard in his grandfather’s whispered words.

“Your father was naught but a babe. Your grandmother, my wife was just weaning him.” The old man paused, his wrinkled hands in fists. “It came again and destroyed again. The devastation maybe was the same, maybe worse, maybe better. Who can say. Many died. My wife died, your father lived. The elders reminded us of our responsibility to sacrifice. Again we were gnawed at by hunger, again any shelter we had had was gone. Death hunted us across the tundra at the edge of the ice.”

The boy had heard this tale many times. He knew it, but still he was angered, still his face flushed. He knew the White had ravaged his tribe many times since his grandfather was a small boy.

As Vojtek grew, he obeyed the elders, some who had not been alive the first time the White had come. He made the blood sacrifices with his tribesmen, and the sacrifices worked most every year. Vojtek was a young man of 25 winters when he saw the White for the first time.
He was out hunting when a shadow chilled him momentarily.

He was far from his home, across the tundra far from the edge of the ice and closer to the mountains than he might ordinarily venture. As Vojtek looked up, he saw a flash of white against the sky, then the sun blinded him as it flashed from behind the massive dragon. Vojtek was awestruck by the size and speed of the White, he knew in his bones it was headed straight for his tribe. Vojtek immediately forgot the elk he was stalking and sprinted for home.

By the time he arrived, feet bleeding and chest heaving, it was over. The White was nowhere to be seen. The village was a wasteland. Huge unnatural banks of frozen snow were layered in swathes over the center of the commons. Not a single person stirred. Nothing lived. The livestock was gone, blood soaked into the snow in unusual shapes all over. The White had finally finished the work it had started decades ago. The tribe was gone, the land of the tundra at the edge of the ice was dead. There was hardly a stone anywhere that rested atop another. The life Vojtek had known was gone.

His rage was unbounded. Vojtek took a sharpened spear that had survived the assault and began to run towards the mountains, back the way he had just run.

His body gave out at some point. He fell to the tundra, still heaving with fury and lost consciousness. When he awoke, he looked to the mountains and swore a mighty and terrible oath to one day face the mighty White and either slay it or join his tribe.


Level 3 Murder Hobo
Group Initiative:
[dice=Ali]1d20+8[/dice] [dice=Kappi]1d20+5[/dice] [dice=Vojtek]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Davosh]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Edward]1d20+3[/dice]
Greatsword:
Power Attack with Greatsword: [dice]1d20+7-1[/dice] for [dice]2d6+8+2[/dice] damage.
HP: 38/42 | Rage -> 4/10 | Initiative:+2 | AC:16, T:12, FF:14 (+1 vs. traps)
Crunch:
Fort: +6/+7 vs. Cold | Ref: +3/+4 vs. Cold | Will +1/+2 vs. Cold || Perception +0 | Stealth +2 || FAME:0/0 | XP:0/1,300

A wiry man stood apart from the crowd, his dark hair cut shoulder length hid most of his face, but from the slightly bewildered way he was turning and peering about, it was clear he was not used to such a large settlement. If this wasn't the largest town he had seen in his wanderings, it was close to it.

His studded leather was fur-lined and had been constructed by some white leather, exotic in this part of the world, but in reality quite common where he was born. The massive greatsword slung across his back was almost as long as he was tall, and the menacing flail at his belt marked this man as a warrior. The ease with which he carried himself burdened by such enormous and unweildly weaponry marked him as a man of immense physicality.

The man was clearly powerful, although not built like the hulking stongmen from this part of the world. This man was thick wristed and looked weathered like only one from the wastes of the far north could look. His face was sharp and his eyes had lines earned from decades of squinting into the icy wind.

He noticed the Varisian and the broadly smiling human suddenly and seemed to have equal parts curiosity and caution at the pair's apparent interest in him.


male Human Rogue 3 HPs 28/28, AC 17, FF12 Touch15), Init +5, (fort +2, ref +8, wil +3), Trap Spotter +11
Vojtek Wartooth wrote:


He noticed the Varisian and the broadly smiling human suddenly and seemed to have equal parts curiosity and caution at the pair's apparent interest in him.

Kappi notices the savage looking northerner with the big weapons looking at his group. He must have seen them looking at him. Unsure what to do he decides to wave him over in invitation. Hail warrior. Come sit with us. Im ordering some cheese and a haunch of meat. Probably another bottle too.


Level 3 Murder Hobo
Group Initiative:
[dice=Ali]1d20+8[/dice] [dice=Kappi]1d20+5[/dice] [dice=Vojtek]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Davosh]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Edward]1d20+3[/dice]
Greatsword:
Power Attack with Greatsword: [dice]1d20+7-1[/dice] for [dice]2d6+8+2[/dice] damage.
HP: 38/42 | Rage -> 4/10 | Initiative:+2 | AC:16, T:12, FF:14 (+1 vs. traps)
Crunch:
Fort: +6/+7 vs. Cold | Ref: +3/+4 vs. Cold | Will +1/+2 vs. Cold || Perception +0 | Stealth +2 || FAME:0/0 | XP:0/1,300

Vojtek did a comical, "what, me?" look, half turning to see if the man waving was actually trying to communicate with someone behind him. Satisfied he was alone - most people gave him a wide berth and today was no exception - Vojtek slowly came to the conclusion Kappi was in fact inviting him to share of his bounty.

Vojtek walked towards the pair, wariness evident in his stance, but with the beginnings of trust. He was being offered food and at least a temporary association that didn't seem to be based in ill-will.

As the northman approached, Kappi took his figure in more fully. The man's distinguishing feature was a scar (a notch really with an ugly white line of scar tissue surmounting it) on his upper lip, unfortunately coinciding with an exceptionally large eyetooth. The tooth protruded angrily from Vojtek's upper gum and even overlapped his lower lip slightly, absent the restraining influence of a complete upper lip.

Despite this scar and deformity the northman wasn't hideously ugly. He has an otherwise symmetrical face, deep set eyes that stared mercilessly at whatever had captured his attention. More civilized men found the pentrating gaze unsettling and tended to break off any contact with him quickly. Vojtek's gaze did not have the bovine stupidity often associated with simpletons, rather it portayed a singlemindedness and a discipline almost animalistic in its intensity.

His gait was even, sure and purposeful. He covered the ground quickly and soon found himself closing with the pair. Men of Vojtek's tribe had a habit of allowing a bit more than an arm's length of personal space, so the man stopped a bit further from Kappi than might a local.

He nodded thanks and raised his right fist to his chest in a polite salute, exactly as his grandfather had taught him on the tundra at the edge of the ice.

Good day traveller. I am Vojtek. The barbarian's voice was clear, his accent clipped and his tone terse. The name was foreign to Edward's ears but sounded like "Boy-Tech." There was a slurred quality to the first letter that made it tough to tell if it was a 'B', a 'W' or a 'V'.

His greeting differed in one important way from what he had been taught. He gave no clan association. He had been stripped of his clan by the White, and he felt he was unable to truthfully lay claim to a clan that no longer existed. His omission was in fact due to the yet-incomplete vengeance he had sworn on behalf of his clan-that-was-no-more.

Vojtek stared, politely he assumed, at each man in turn.

Vojtek is taking a rage power that gives him a bite attack at level 2, please wait until then to use the "Wartooth" appelation. At this point it doesn't exist, but I won't be able to rename the Paizo profile by that time. Maybe after the first fight where he uses it someone could grant him that last name and he will use it proudly :)


male Human Rogue 3 HPs 28/28, AC 17, FF12 Touch15), Init +5, (fort +2, ref +8, wil +3), Trap Spotter +11

Figuring he wont always have money, so he might as well spend it before it burns a hole in his purse. He quickly grabs the barmaid and orders another bottle of wine, a wheel of cheese, and a large haunch of meat.
Woy-tick? Kappi pauses at the name. He pours the warrior the last of the first bottle. I've had some travels in the north, but I've never heard that name. Is it common among your people?
The young Varisian screws his eyes up for just a second as if he is thinking, then he starts hesitantly at first but picking up speed as the words start flowing out. Do you speak Skald? A few years ago my caravan was trapped by the snows and we wintered with some northern tribesmen. Though its been awhile since I have spoken their tongue.


male Human Rogue 3 HPs 28/28, AC 17, FF12 Touch15), Init +5, (fort +2, ref +8, wil +3), Trap Spotter +11

He switches back to common, Oh, yes where are my manners. This jovial looking man is Edwin. Though we just met, I can't tell you much about him. Kappi then gestures to the thin man in the wide brimmed hat. This is Davosh. He speaks to the Ancestors. The young man winces after saying that, thinking perhaps he should have kept that to himself. It didnt' sound so weird in his head. As if to cover his blunder he quickly points out to the artic fox next to Davosh's chair. ...And that is his beautiful vulpine companion, Liska.
The Varisian bows slightly and continues speaking, My name is Kappi Matarito. Kappi pronounces it with a slight Varisian accent. It is not "cappy". The accent is on the second syllable, more like Ka-Pi.
I'm sure you have heard of the strange things going on with the weather out in the woods. A noble lady has been kidnapped, we were beginning to talk about trying to find her. Kappi eyes Vojtek's large weapons. You look like you might be useful in a tight spot.


Level 3 Murder Hobo
Group Initiative:
[dice=Ali]1d20+8[/dice] [dice=Kappi]1d20+5[/dice] [dice=Vojtek]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Davosh]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Edward]1d20+3[/dice]
Greatsword:
Power Attack with Greatsword: [dice]1d20+7-1[/dice] for [dice]2d6+8+2[/dice] damage.
HP: 38/42 | Rage -> 4/10 | Initiative:+2 | AC:16, T:12, FF:14 (+1 vs. traps)
Crunch:
Fort: +6/+7 vs. Cold | Ref: +3/+4 vs. Cold | Will +1/+2 vs. Cold || Perception +0 | Stealth +2 || FAME:0/0 | XP:0/1,300

Vojtek is at sea in the conversation. There is a lot to process. He shakes his head slightly at the questions about other languages, and grits his teeth at the question about his people. Although when Kappi indicates that Davosh, who he hadn't noticed before, speaks to the ancestors his eyes zero in on him.

You speak to the ancestors? What does my grandfather say to you? Vojtek presses urgently, half rising from his seat.

Liska reacts to Voytek's intense interest in her master with a slight bristling of her mane, and she snakes between his legs defensively.


male Human Rogue 3 HPs 28/28, AC 17, FF12 Touch15), Init +5, (fort +2, ref +8, wil +3), Trap Spotter +11

Kappi looks around pretty sure someone should be saying something. He just isnt sure who or what. He takes a sip of wine and tries to think of something.

He also has a feeling they need one more guy...


Male
Stats:
HP: 17/25, Init: +1, Perception: +0, Fort: +3, Ref: +4, Will: +3
Per Diem:
Cantrips: Dancing Lights, Daze, Guidance, Resistance, 1st Level: CLW, Ear Piercing Scream, Mage Armor, Ray of Enfeeblement, 2nd Level: Burning Gaze, Vomit Swarm x2

Still unwinding from Gencon. Working on getting back into the swing of things.

The warlock gives an awkward chuckle. If it was meant to diminish Kappi's discomfort, it failed.

"A bit of a minor detail my new friend. They talk to me far more than I talk to them. If, however, my brobdingnagian friend, they do deign to talk to me, I shall make sure to check in on him. In truth the Ancestors really only whisper and prod."

At this Liska jumps up to crawl onto his shoulders as if some kind of living shawl. The warlock looks about, occasionally leering and other times near scoffing.

"It's like the wind. We do not know why the wind blows in the direction it does, nor what excites it into a storm, but we still feel the wind, will still sail by it."

Now Davosh disregards the people who are milling about. He instead gives you each focus as tight and penetrating as a wizard's ray.

"The winds have pushed us here. The ancients need their progeny to take action. Something has brought winter to Taldor. If this missing noble is involved so be it. If not, then it's no bother. Either way, we are nearly all gathered for the storm to break."


Level 3 Murder Hobo
Group Initiative:
[dice=Ali]1d20+8[/dice] [dice=Kappi]1d20+5[/dice] [dice=Vojtek]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Davosh]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Edward]1d20+3[/dice]
Greatsword:
Power Attack with Greatsword: [dice]1d20+7-1[/dice] for [dice]2d6+8+2[/dice] damage.
HP: 38/42 | Rage -> 4/10 | Initiative:+2 | AC:16, T:12, FF:14 (+1 vs. traps)
Crunch:
Fort: +6/+7 vs. Cold | Ref: +3/+4 vs. Cold | Will +1/+2 vs. Cold || Perception +0 | Stealth +2 || FAME:0/0 | XP:0/1,300

Vojtek knew the wind. He knew its biting teeth, its insistent tug and it's icy breath. In the years since he was old enough to hold a spear, he had been alone on the tundra with none but the wind as a companion, and he knew what Davosh meant about the fickle whisperings of the wind.

He ground his teeth as he always did when he prayed, Great beast, the White Dragon, if my grandfather has something to say, let his spirit whisper to Davosh on the wind, so that Davosh can tell me what he hears. His silent entreaty complete, Vojtek ate of the food before him.

It galled Vojtek to ask anything of the White, the instrument of his lonliness and anger. He added as a silent addendum, The day draws ever closer when I will slay you, murderous beast.

Vojtek nodded silently in comprehension at Davosh's cryptic pronouncement and again with a bit of enthusiasm at the mention of the noblewoman. The barbarian had heard of her plight since he had arrived here, and was interested in investigating. If these men were about the business of a rescue, Vojtek was ready to join their enterprise.

Grand Lodge

Male Human Oracle 1 Paladin 2 AC= 19; T=13; FF=16; HP 31/31; Init +3; Per +0; +8F +6R +8W

Well met Boy Tech the name rolled off Edwards tongue like it was stuck in peanut butter, but the big man could see he tried so it wasn't offensive. I'm sure your physical skills will be needed if bandit's grabbed her.[/b]

Edward looks to the rest.

Then it's official, unless we should try to find one more brave soul to travel with us. Apsu will guide us, so we can rescue the damsel in distress. I'm ready to head off now, while the sun is still climbing.


Male
Stats:
HP: 17/25, Init: +1, Perception: +0, Fort: +3, Ref: +4, Will: +3
Per Diem:
Cantrips: Dancing Lights, Daze, Guidance, Resistance, 1st Level: CLW, Ear Piercing Scream, Mage Armor, Ray of Enfeeblement, 2nd Level: Burning Gaze, Vomit Swarm x2

"Apsu?! APSU!" Liska gives a slight yelp as the warlock stands up abruptly. Davosh goes over and looks at the irises in Edward's eyes. Then checks his ears. Then his nails. Finally he looks hard at Edward, then a nearby torch, then at Edward, then a nearby torch. Finally he decides against whatever the final experiment was going to be. "Seem human enough. If I'm wrong though, my money's on... bronze."

Finally the warlock whispers something to Liska, and the fox runs off looking for......Mike's character


Sinspawn ****

The bartender gives Davosh a withering look as she pours another draught, and one of the servers comes by and whispers, Keep yer voice down, aye? Else Missus Garimos is likely t' turn the lot of ye out into the cold. She and Misser Garimos don't take kindly to disturbances from locals, so's they be unlikely t' take any from ye.


Male
Stats:
HP: 17/25, Init: +1, Perception: +0, Fort: +3, Ref: +4, Will: +3
Per Diem:
Cantrips: Dancing Lights, Daze, Guidance, Resistance, 1st Level: CLW, Ear Piercing Scream, Mage Armor, Ray of Enfeeblement, 2nd Level: Burning Gaze, Vomit Swarm x2

At an utter lose at how to speak to a barkeep, Davosh looks perplexed and opts for being quiet.


Level 3 Murder Hobo
Group Initiative:
[dice=Ali]1d20+8[/dice] [dice=Kappi]1d20+5[/dice] [dice=Vojtek]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Davosh]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Edward]1d20+3[/dice]
Greatsword:
Power Attack with Greatsword: [dice]1d20+7-1[/dice] for [dice]2d6+8+2[/dice] damage.
HP: 38/42 | Rage -> 4/10 | Initiative:+2 | AC:16, T:12, FF:14 (+1 vs. traps)
Crunch:
Fort: +6/+7 vs. Cold | Ref: +3/+4 vs. Cold | Will +1/+2 vs. Cold || Perception +0 | Stealth +2 || FAME:0/0 | XP:0/1,300
Edward W.Fell wrote:
...but the big man could see he tried...[/b]

Vojtek is physically small. He stands 5'6" and weighs 170 lbs. He is a wiry b@stard though. Stronger by far than most men, when his strength is considered he is surprisingly unimposing.

And the next one of you yay-who's that calls him "Boy Tech" is gettin' a knuckle sammich. :)


Male
Stats:
HP: 17/25, Init: +1, Perception: +0, Fort: +3, Ref: +4, Will: +3
Per Diem:
Cantrips: Dancing Lights, Daze, Guidance, Resistance, 1st Level: CLW, Ear Piercing Scream, Mage Armor, Ray of Enfeeblement, 2nd Level: Burning Gaze, Vomit Swarm x2

Ha! I totally read that as 6'5". Gotcha.


male Human Rogue 3 HPs 28/28, AC 17, FF12 Touch15), Init +5, (fort +2, ref +8, wil +3), Trap Spotter +11
Davosh the Wanderer wrote:
At an utter lose at how to speak to a barkeep, Davosh looks perplexed and opts for being quiet.

The youth quickly palms a gold coin and slips it to the barmaid in a cool sauve way.

Sleight of Hand 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16
Then totally blows his coolness with an awkward smile and too long of a pause before he says, Sorry, you will have no problems from us


F Elf Magus / 3 Init +8; HP: 27/27 AC 16 Touch 12 FF 14; Percep 2; Arcane Pool 2/4

As the newly forming group settles back in, another figure enters the inn. A clearly elven woman strides in and places her hands on her hips, slowly looking around and taking the measure of every figure there. She clearly gives the impression of owning the place.

Her standing in the doorway that way gives you ample time to take in her appearance. Red hair tied back with a small leather band, showing off ears and eyes that are so clearly elven as to be slightly exaggerated. These give her an appearance that is too stark to be "beautiful," but not so much as to be unattractive. Her armor is finely crafted leather lamellar. Even more striking is the rare Elven curved blade strapped across her back. Standing between 5 and 6 feet tall, she has the classic Elven build: lithe and strong, but perhaps not as robust as her strength might indicate. She is clearly supremely confident, in any case, her gaze a challenge to, as much as a study of, the patrons gathered under this roof.

She studies each figure in the inn with brief intensity, then her eyes light up as she spies the small table of eclectic men gathered, and she makes a bee-line to the table. Approaching to just over arm's length, she stands with her feet planted firmly, arms cross beneath her breasts, and gives a small, knowing smile.

This might be just what I'm looking for! You boys wouldn't happen to be looking for adventure, would you?

She gives a small, wide-eyed start upon seeing the arctic fox on one of the group's shoulders. With a delighted smile, she tentatively reaches toward the beautiful animal, clearly intending to touch it--but looking to the owner with inquisitive eyes before approaching close enough to actually touch, or be touched by, the beast.


Level 3 Murder Hobo
Group Initiative:
[dice=Ali]1d20+8[/dice] [dice=Kappi]1d20+5[/dice] [dice=Vojtek]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Davosh]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Edward]1d20+3[/dice]
Greatsword:
Power Attack with Greatsword: [dice]1d20+7-1[/dice] for [dice]2d6+8+2[/dice] damage.
HP: 38/42 | Rage -> 4/10 | Initiative:+2 | AC:16, T:12, FF:14 (+1 vs. traps)
Crunch:
Fort: +6/+7 vs. Cold | Ref: +3/+4 vs. Cold | Will +1/+2 vs. Cold || Perception +0 | Stealth +2 || FAME:0/0 | XP:0/1,300

Vojtek grunts at the odd woman. He is unsure of the customs here in this foreign land dealing with females, so he sits quietly and waits for someone else to show him the proper way to proceed.

He does approve of her confidence, but seems confused because this is obviously not how women behave in his experience.


Sinspawn ****

Four humans and an elf walk into a bar...LOL

The server's eyes go wide as she looks at Kappi's gold coin. She then gives the rogue a broad smile and, in a twinkling, is gone, back amongst the tables full of locals speaking in hushed tones and staring at your table near the fire.

The keen-eyed Darvosh notices a stocky man wearing a stained white apron come out of the kitchen and confer with the woman behind the bar for a moment or two. He then bustles back into the kitchen, returning quickly with a stack of plates and a steaming pot. He approaches your table and clears his throat.

Ah...welcome, newcomers, t' the Silver Stoat. The tone is friendly enough, though the words seem chosen carefully. He sets the plates on your table and hefts the pot. Name's Menander Garimos, best cook in town; and ye be drinkin' the 3 Devils Ale tha' m'lady Kale brews each night. He half-turns with a smile and indicates the woman behind the bar. Turning back, he clears his throat again and grabs the ladle within the pot. Ah...some o' me venison stew for ye. You'll not regret it, I promise. Have some! Not waiting for an answer, he shows surprising speed in filling five plates with a hearty reddish-brown stew. I'll, ah...get Gertrude back over t' fill yer cups. He turns to leave the table.


Male
Stats:
HP: 17/25, Init: +1, Perception: +0, Fort: +3, Ref: +4, Will: +3
Per Diem:
Cantrips: Dancing Lights, Daze, Guidance, Resistance, 1st Level: CLW, Ear Piercing Scream, Mage Armor, Ray of Enfeeblement, 2nd Level: Burning Gaze, Vomit Swarm x2

If Ali's entrance had an effect on Davosh, he doesn't show it. Liska on the other hand fins the elf to be tremendously exciting (even trotting across Kappi's lap to get to her.) Davosh gives a shrug, and goes back to the venison. He then takes out a small book and jots down some notes here and there.

"Hmmm 5. Five is a number of strength. It's highly unpredictable, but a number of energy and will. This will do. This will do nicely. Lady and gentlemen, might I suggest we eat up heartily tonight and in the mornging see what kind of weird we can trouble ourselves into?"


male Human Rogue 3 HPs 28/28, AC 17, FF12 Touch15), Init +5, (fort +2, ref +8, wil +3), Trap Spotter +11

The young Varisian looks at the elven warrior with great interest, though some trepidation. Among his people strong willed confident gypsy women were not uncommon. In many ways they were more dangerous then the men. Kappi had also had some dealings with elves. He often felt the oddest thing about elves were their long lives. The elven woman could easily be several centuries old.
Kappi makes introductions after Davosh's odd talk of numbers and tidings. We are indeed looking for a path to adventure. Between all this strange winter weather and a captured noble woman we think we have something to look into. But please tell us something of yourself Lady.
Kappi digs into his venison stew and looks to his new companions.


Level 3 Murder Hobo
Group Initiative:
[dice=Ali]1d20+8[/dice] [dice=Kappi]1d20+5[/dice] [dice=Vojtek]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Davosh]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Edward]1d20+3[/dice]
Greatsword:
Power Attack with Greatsword: [dice]1d20+7-1[/dice] for [dice]2d6+8+2[/dice] damage.
HP: 38/42 | Rage -> 4/10 | Initiative:+2 | AC:16, T:12, FF:14 (+1 vs. traps)
Crunch:
Fort: +6/+7 vs. Cold | Ref: +3/+4 vs. Cold | Will +1/+2 vs. Cold || Perception +0 | Stealth +2 || FAME:0/0 | XP:0/1,300

"This weather seems normal to me..."


Level 3 Murder Hobo
Group Initiative:
[dice=Ali]1d20+8[/dice] [dice=Kappi]1d20+5[/dice] [dice=Vojtek]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Davosh]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Edward]1d20+3[/dice]
Greatsword:
Power Attack with Greatsword: [dice]1d20+7-1[/dice] for [dice]2d6+8+2[/dice] damage.
HP: 38/42 | Rage -> 4/10 | Initiative:+2 | AC:16, T:12, FF:14 (+1 vs. traps)
Crunch:
Fort: +6/+7 vs. Cold | Ref: +3/+4 vs. Cold | Will +1/+2 vs. Cold || Perception +0 | Stealth +2 || FAME:0/0 | XP:0/1,300

This stew smells good... Vojtek pokes at the meaty chunks thoughtfully.

Survival: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16 Not sure if this is an allowable use of this skill, but can Vojtek tell if this stew is actually venison?


F Elf Magus / 3 Init +8; HP: 27/27 AC 16 Touch 12 FF 14; Percep 2; Arcane Pool 2/4

The elf takes the young man's words as an invitation. She grabs a chair, pulls it to the table, and sits in it backwards (so as not to disturb her sword). She grabs a bowl of stew and tucks in with gusto, but perfect grace and cleanliness. Between bites, she answers his invitation.

Name's Ali'yanah D'ohr'hein. Most humans call me Ali. I'm one of the magi, maybe you've heard of us. She pauses for a bite, and to give one of the table-mates a chance to answer, then shrugs and continues. I've been looking for worthy quests to test my mettle. I heard some tales about a white dragon north of these parts, and then I started hearing about the missing Lady. Thought I'd check it out--and it looks like I struck paydirt, doesn't it? She smiles and takes a hearty swig of ale--once again, with gusto but grace.


Level 3 Murder Hobo
Group Initiative:
[dice=Ali]1d20+8[/dice] [dice=Kappi]1d20+5[/dice] [dice=Vojtek]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Davosh]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Edward]1d20+3[/dice]
Greatsword:
Power Attack with Greatsword: [dice]1d20+7-1[/dice] for [dice]2d6+8+2[/dice] damage.
HP: 38/42 | Rage -> 4/10 | Initiative:+2 | AC:16, T:12, FF:14 (+1 vs. traps)
Crunch:
Fort: +6/+7 vs. Cold | Ref: +3/+4 vs. Cold | Will +1/+2 vs. Cold || Perception +0 | Stealth +2 || FAME:0/0 | XP:0/1,300

At the mention of the White, Vojtek slams down his bowl, splattering the "venison" over himself, the table and those sitting near him.

His jaw is clenched and his temples begin to throb. He nearly shouts, "What of the White?!?! Do you know where it is? Have you SEEN it?!?!"

Vojtek stares intently at Ali, it is apparent he is not angry at her in particular. He begins muttering to himself about the White, grinding his teeth and cracking his knuckles.

He suddenly realizes his outburst has caused his table mates to stare at him in shock and consternation. Even a few patrons at other tables look at him in surprise.

In a rare show of 'social graces' Vojtek abruptly asks Ali, "Do you know Gadliel?"


F Elf Magus / 3 Init +8; HP: 27/27 AC 16 Touch 12 FF 14; Percep 2; Arcane Pool 2/4

Ali starts and leans back at the outburst, holding up both hands, palms out in a placating gesture. Whoa, whoa there, fella!! I don't know anything--just rumors. I keep my ears open, looking for interesting things, and I'd heard there was a dragon somewhere up north here, causing all manner of trouble. it was just something I wanted to check out, maybe a future project, right? She places her palms on the table and narrows here eyes a bit, leaning back in toward the table. I've never heard of any Gadliel--but it's pretty obvious you know something about this dragon. Looks like I really *did* hit paydirt! She extends her hand across the table to the barbarian and smiles.

Enemy's enemy and all that, right Slim? I didn't catch your name...call me Ali.

Once things calm down a bit, Ali takes a piece of venison and offers it to the arctic fox, along with a big smile and some head scratching. And who is this lovely creature?? She looks up at the strange-looking man who was "wearing" the fox. Her eyes narrow again, pensively. The animal is with you--but not a pet, is it? she continues to idly scratch the animal's head.


Male
Stats:
HP: 17/25, Init: +1, Perception: +0, Fort: +3, Ref: +4, Will: +3
Per Diem:
Cantrips: Dancing Lights, Daze, Guidance, Resistance, 1st Level: CLW, Ear Piercing Scream, Mage Armor, Ray of Enfeeblement, 2nd Level: Burning Gaze, Vomit Swarm x2

"HA....HAhahahahaha!" Davosh wears mirth with awkward posture. It's disconcerting, and you get the slightest feeling that he is indeed laughing AT you.

"Nay, he's not a pet. Liska is my familiar. A gift of the Ancestors-who-are-the-wind. She helps me with my spells. She's quite intelligent. She also shares a bit of my magic. Which reminds me..."

Davosh dips into his bag and rummages about. Not finding the object of his impromptu research, he simply looks back up at the tablemates. The awkward mirth vanishes.

"The ancestors tell me that soon we'll be seeing more than just an abnormal snow. When our backs are to the wall and our lives are on the line it's important to know what to expect from each other. My powers are only just emerging. I can cast the odd spell here and there. Some curative, but mostly spells to beguile and enervate a foe. I can look into a foe's soul through the windows of his eyes and instill the seeds of failure."

Davosh's blue eye squints when he talks about looking into mens' souls. It's....off putting.

"I have a good feel for what each of you can do, just by the look of your gates and tools. We ought to get a night's rest. Tomorrow we likely start the tale for our descendants."


Sinspawn ****

Kappi:

As you're about to join your companions rising from the table, you notice that your plate, which was on the bottom of Garimos' stack, has a bit of parchment sticking out from underneath it.


Level 3 Murder Hobo
Group Initiative:
[dice=Ali]1d20+8[/dice] [dice=Kappi]1d20+5[/dice] [dice=Vojtek]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Davosh]1d20+2[/dice] [dice=Edward]1d20+3[/dice]
Greatsword:
Power Attack with Greatsword: [dice]1d20+7-1[/dice] for [dice]2d6+8+2[/dice] damage.
HP: 38/42 | Rage -> 4/10 | Initiative:+2 | AC:16, T:12, FF:14 (+1 vs. traps)
Crunch:
Fort: +6/+7 vs. Cold | Ref: +3/+4 vs. Cold | Will +1/+2 vs. Cold || Perception +0 | Stealth +2 || FAME:0/0 | XP:0/1,300
Ali'yanah D'ohr'hein wrote:

it's pretty obvious you know something about this dragon. Looks like I really *did* hit paydirt! She extends her hand across the table to the barbarian and smiles.

Enemy's enemy and all that, right Slim? I didn't catch your name...call me Ali.

Vojtek reaches out, past her hand and grips her forearm gently. He is careful to avoid hurting her, though she can feel the raw strength in his hand and the incredibly unyeilding hardness in his own forearm.

I am Vojtek, Clanless.

The barbarian tells an abbreviated version of the tale of the White's destruction of his home. As he speaks, the party around the table listen with varying degrees of interest and attention. Vojtek is not a good story teller, he can get the idea across, but without the drama and excitement his grandfather could. The one thing his audience can say without question is that a huge White Dragon ravaged his village, his clan was wiped out, and Vojtek. Is. Pissed.


F Elf Magus / 3 Init +8; HP: 27/27 AC 16 Touch 12 FF 14; Percep 2; Arcane Pool 2/4
Vojtek wrote:
The barbarian tells an abbreviated version of the tale of the White's destruction of his home. As he speaks, the party around the table listen with varying degrees of interest and attention. Vojtek is not a good story teller, he can get the idea across, but without the drama and excitement his grandfather could. The one thing his audience can say without question is that a huge White Dragon ravaged his village, his clan was wiped out, and Vojtek. Is. Pissed.

Ali listens with rapt attention. She begins nodding toward the end of the tale. She inhales deeply, then exhales slowly. Well, then...before tonight, I wanted to slay the dragon for the glory and riches. Now, there appear to be other reasons. If what you're saying is true--and looking at you, I have little doubt it is--I'm with you, Vojtek. We'll take that monster down, eh??

Davosh wrote:
The ancestors tell me that soon we'll be seeing more than just an abnormal snow. When our backs are to the wall and our lives are on the line it's important to know what to expect from each other. My powers are only just emerging. I can cast the odd spell here and there. Some curative, but mostly spells to beguile and enervate a foe. I can look into a foe's soul through the windows of his eyes and instill the seeds of failure.

The elf gives Davosh a nod of approval. Excellent suggestion. Ali keeps scratching Liska's ears as she speaks. As I said, I'm of the magi. We wield spell and weapon together. My weapon of choice is obvious... she jabs a thumb at the hilt over her shoulder I'm an initiate, so my powers are pretty limited, but I can boost my weapon, and cast a couple spells. I'm hoping to practice and gain some more skill before going after the *real* foes-- here she looks at Vojtek with a fierce grin --like dragons. And my new friend Vojtek here is clearly a warrior. She looks at the other two. So, what about you gents? What are your areas of expertise?


male Human Rogue 3 HPs 28/28, AC 17, FF12 Touch15), Init +5, (fort +2, ref +8, wil +3), Trap Spotter +11
GM thunderspirit wrote:
** spoiler omitted **

While Vojtek is telling his story, Kappi pulls out the scrap of paper under his plate and looks at it.


male Human Rogue 3 HPs 28/28, AC 17, FF12 Touch15), Init +5, (fort +2, ref +8, wil +3), Trap Spotter +11

The young Varisian responds to Ali's question. My name is Kappi Matarito. Growing up among some of my shadier Varisian Family members... The lad looks a little uncomfortable as he mentions this. … Ive picked up some skills for sneaking around and umm... stuff. Not that Ive ever really made a living at thievery... But umm uhh, you know I can generally do that kind of stuff. He quickly takes a sip of wine and then noticably relaxes ashe begins to speak again.
I probably couldnt match your skill in battle, he says looking to Vojtek and Ali. But Im pretty good with my weapons from a short distance. He taps his weapons, some throwing axes on his belt and a brace of spears leaning against his chair.

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