Commander Pharamol pulls out two wands from his pocket. "Take them. I was the one who sent you to assassinate Yrax, and within my power, I will see that you have all the aid I can give."
"We will do our best, sir." Mr. Whiskers replies. "Now to find my companion so we can return to the others." With a certain amount of sadness, he admits "I was planning to bring three back with us, but it seems Hirah has found what she sought."
"Yes, she will be dearly missed. We are all sasdened by our loss this day. But at least we can draw comfort that her soul is at peace." Commander Pharamol replies. "I don't wish to order anyone else to their deaths, but amongst those assembled, you may ask for volunteers."
’She is leaving, should I try and stop her, I would like her help finding this spear of legend, as long as she lets us have it. Seeing Baknaria begin to leave, Einar as he is putting on his armor, calls to her. ”A moment Baknaria, let me at least decide if I would join you. You are a seer of your people, you said you that you had a vision. I this correct?” Not waiting for an answer as he is attaching the greaves to his cuisses on his right leg. ”Let me be frank, you know we are from Golarion another planet in our solar system, or so I’ve been told.” he stops long enough to attach the greaves to his left leg. ” You saw a blue horned creature ‘floating down, tell me true, am I not the blue creature of your dream?”
"You are the creature of my dream." She buries her head in her paws. "But the dream never showes me that people would be killed! I would gladly sacrifice my life if it would free my people from Yrax, but how can I cause the death of another?" She answers bitterly. "And what if the dream was just a dream, and not a true vision? What if as the cavern entrance was inscribed, only death awaits us here?"
'I've got her where I want her.' Einar smiles his toothy smile. "I would like to try the beverage that would make a creature like you dream of a creature like me." His smile becomes a light chuckle. He then starts to strap the sabatons on his feet, first the right and then the left.
"You are the shaman of your people, I believe the dream was true, or I would not have followed you. I do not fear death. I have been on Pharasma's cobblestones, and I refused to walk her path. I was brought back because my work is not done." He stands up straight and makes sure his armor below his waist is secure.
"Let me ask something else about the dream. Was my sword sister, Hirah in the dream? Did she bare the spear?"
"Its not a beverage. Its holy herb bundles you burn in the fire." She gestures at her herb pouch."They free you from the tethers of flesh, so you can see the spirit realm more clearly."She explains.
"Your companion was slain because I followed my dream to this place of death and you still believe in me?"Her voice is incredulous. "And you've been on Pharasma's path and returned to talk about it?" Baknarla bows to Einar respectfully. "What exactly are you? Are you a god?"
"All of you were in the dream. Confronting Yrax in a castle of ice. But it was you who bore the spear and struck Yrax down." She answers.
'So the others were in the dream as well.' Einar smiles at the comment about burning herb. Shaking his head no, as he puts on the bevor, "I am no god, I was brought back by magic. But even dead I did not give up hope. They transported her so they could reserect her. If Hirah was in your dream, she will be back, unless she gives up hope. Then there is nothing we can do for her."
Lifting the breastplate up to his chest, he turns so Baknaria can see the straps. "Here help me strap this to the neck piece. I believe if you saw us in your dream then you should stay with us until we strike down Yrax. We are stronger together than separate."
"Maybe. I didn't want to tell the others..but the future is not written on stone. Its more like ripples on the surface of the lake. Any leaf, any rock thrown into a lake can disrupt the ripples. Or create new ones in different places." She mutters broodingly.
As she helps Einar strap on his neck piece, she answers, "There is wisdom in your words. A single branch is easy to snap. Tie them in a bundle and they can't be broken. However, once I find Sarnok's grave, I need to return with one of his holy relics to rally my people. Then we will join you at Ivoryglass."
Join us at Ivoryglass?' Holding the breastplate for a moment, he begins to buckle it himself. "I realize nothing is written in stone, but the same is true of Hirah's death, you no more caused it, than you caused this breastplate to need buckled. You just decide what your going to do about it."
Swinging the other side of the breastplate up to the neckpiece, he turns the strap toward Baknaria again."If you need to return with a relic, you have a better chance to do that with us, than with out us. Which is more important to you, your people or your pride?"
"But had I not told you about the dream, then Hirah wouldn't have come here. And she would not have died! That is much different from buckling a breastplate!" She protests.
"Of course my people are more important!" Baknarla looks affronted."All this I have done..is all for them! The current leader, Wargath, is not a good one. He only cares about his own comforts, and if it means sucking of to Yrax, he's all too happy to do so. That's why I was thrown out of the tribe when I proposed we should stop paying tribute to the Drakeland legions. "
Einar shrugs, continuing to buckle his own breastplate, "If you had not told us about the spear would we be able to kill the dragon without it?"
He then attaches the backplate and begins strapping it on. "If your people are truly more important, sit back down and wait for the rest of the warband. We will find the spear and kill the dragon. If necessary I will kill this Wargath for you. Then your tribe can select a new leader."
"I don't know. The dream did not tell me."She admits reluctantly. "I was going to return to my tribe bearing the rainment of Sarnok, using it to show my worthiness to challenge Wargath for the right to rule, myself." She does, however sit down at the campfire.
'She sounds like she could be a good ruler.' Einar nods his head as he sits with her and begins to put on the armor on his arms. "We will never know, but our fates are entwined until we end the dragon. we will help you acquire the raiment of Sarnok, Can you defeat this Wargath?" Looking away for a moment, he smiles. "What other mystic items did Sarnok carry?"
"The spirits will support me! Well...unless the bad spirits are more powerful and numerous then the good spirits. Or I could call for a champion to fight in my stead, and he could choose a champion to fight in his stead, or he could take the challenge himself." Baknarla answers. "He carried the dragon slaying spear and the belt of fallen heroes."
'A challenge fight, and no one here to stop me from accepting it.' Einar smiles as he continues putting on his fingerless gauntlets. "A champion, who in his tribe would he call for?"
"Probably his brother Wograth. Who's some kind of pugilist. He found a strange curved blade then perfected the art of fighting with it. He's an absolute terror on the battlefield! And he practices with that strange blade of his all day long, unless he's hunting and never socializes! He's weird." Baknarla replies.
'a pugilist with a blade.' Einar's smile widens, showing how inhumanly wide his mouth would open when he bit. "So we would just have to arrange for unarmed combat." Having gotten Baknaria to sit, Einar pulls out his ceramic jug with the birds on the neck and speaks to it, "Plum Wine" Pulling a couple tin cups from his pack he offers one to Badnaria, "Have you ever heard of plums? My dragonkin friend had not, but he found it still refreshing."
Seraphine hesitates, stepping forward towards the group, a little unsure of herself but nevertheless pushing herself into doing what her goddess has communicated to her what would be right.
"Err, hello?" she remarks cautiously, addressing them in Trixian and searching for signs of understanding.
"My name is Seraphine, I'm a cleric here and...I wanted to thank all of you personally for helping us with our troubles. I am truely sorry about your friend Hirah, she seemed like a good friend and I feel a little guilty she died in services of to our nation."
Seraphine pauses again, before forging onwards "Its actually in the spirit of that which has led me to approach you now. I wanted to led my personal assistance into your question - should you wish it, in order to shoulder the debt that Hirah created. I'm somewhat capable in the divine arts, should you want for extra help."
"Not at all. Let's go get drunk." She takes a swig of the tin cup. "To Hirah!"
Mr. Whiskers turns and looks at the newcomer. "Seraphine? Greetings, it is a pleasure to meet you."
With a chuckle, he introduces himself "I am Mr. Whiskers, although I suspect you already know that. It seems everyone here does by now..."
"Are you sure you want to join us? The commander did say we could ask for volunteers, but..." He pauses a moment "...well things have gotten quite difficult on the path we are taking."
"Our trial by combat - both combatants will enter the arena bearing the arms and armor they choose. Most of us eschew armor, since it mostly gets in the way of dodging and ducking. We generally rely on our speed to swiftly strike, then avoid the blows our opponent aims at us. Magic is forbidden in the arena, being viewed as dishonorable. And all buffs are stripped before ritual combat. The ritual combat is to the death." Baknarla informs Einar of her customs."Watch out for the frosty breath." And demonstrates.
Frozen breath
Once every 1d4 rounds as a swift action, an adlet can exhale, filling a 10-foot-radius spread around it with frigid air that deals 2d6 points of cold damage and staggers those in the area with numbing cold. A Fortitude save negates the staggered effect but not the cold damage.
'A fight to the death, I've been in a couple of those.' Einar tips the jug again filling the cups, "Curious, my armor has magical improvements on it, how would we work the out?" 'lets see if she's negotiable' He then winks at her, 'Or would we just not tell them?"
"Enchanted weapons and armor is fine. But not if there is a spell cast on it Oh. You get to keep the losers weapons and armor as well." Baknarla remarks. "My spear is enchanted as well."
Einar nods in understanding, "So the gear you carry is ok, just not extra spells or buffs or that sort of thing. So if we kill the brother do we get the chiefs stuff as well? Or does he keep his gear as well as his life? Not really fair that, I mean loosing is loosing, right."
"Yeah you would get to keep the chief's stuff, but not his brother's stuff, since his brother was fighting on behalf of the chief."
Einar smile and shrugs, "Well if his brother was dead, who would take it? Anyway he and I could work out a side bet of some sort. I have some interesting items he might be willing to wager his own gear against. Especially if he is cocky." Einar puts the cork in the jug, and asks Greta, "Hey Greta, do you want to cook lunch or do you want me to?"
"His other siblings?" Baknarla replies.
"You can do the cooking. I feel too upset to cook." Greta answers. "Hirah just died in front of us. How can you think of eating at a time like this?"
Seraphine tilts her head to one side. "I am certain that if things are difficult, then the more help you have available, the easier the load might be. I am still happy to assist if you require it."
Nodding agreement, Mr. Whiskers admits "The help would be appreciated, but I just don't want someone who is doing it for the wrong reasons."
"Don't misunderstand me, we should honor those who sacrifice so that the rest can live. It is just that some see glory as something to be strived for. That is common for followers of Iomedae, but can also be found amongst some who follow The Dawnflower. "
"I do not understand this, it is not the way of my folk."
Seraphine feels something cold settle on her shoulders. It certainly doesn't feel very comfortable, akin to a burial shroud. It does, however make her more perceptive to her surroundings.
Mr Whiskers eventually teleports Seraphine, Crummock, and himself back to the RimeKeening Crevasse.
They walk past the popsicle worm, that STILL glares angrily at the party. They follow to the end of the passage and sees that it leads out to a cave which they can see an open glacier from. Not finding Sarnoks grave they backtrack, until Baknarla finds Sarnok's sigil on the cave wall.
Following Sarnok's sigil that Baknarla finds on the walls, they walk down a icy, narrow(relatively) passageway.
Cracks and fissures riddle this jagged, frozen grotto. Sharp icicles hang from the uneven celling and thick ice covers much of the walls. A verticle sheet of ice fills the western end of the caverns and the frozen remains of several creatures are visible within the ice, sealed within the frozen wall. Many staglatites line the cellings, and staglamites line the floors.
The preserved corpses of seven creatures stand etombed in the wetern ice wall. The frozen creatures consist of a copper dragonkin, four triaxians and an adlet.
"That's Sarnok! I'd recognize that pectoral of stars anywhere!" Baknarla exclaims, as she points at the adlet corpse.
As the party goes closer to examine the adlet corpse, one of the stalatites flicks out a strand and attacks them. "Oooh Shinny! Mwy o ddarnau ar gyfer y casgliad!" It exclaims delightedly.
Oooh Shinny! More pieces for the collection!
Mr Whiskers recognizes the strange staglatite is a creature called a Roper. It has spell resistance and it has nasty strands that can sap strength.
A roper can extend up to six thin, sticky strands from its body at a time, launching them to a maximum range of 50 feet. A roper’s attacks with its strands resolve as ranged touch attacks. These strands are quite strong, but can be severed by any amount of slashing damage (a strand is AC 20). A creature struck by a strand is numbed and weakened by the strange material, and must make a Fortitude save or take 1d6 points of Strength damage.
Seraphine finds that Ropers burn VERY well.
Seeing the bodies caked in ice, Mr. Whiskers says "I've got a bad feeling about this."
When the roper attacks, Mr. Whiskers casts fly on himself and moves in Greta's direction.
The roper then decides to claim Einar as part of its collection. How often do you see a funny scaly, fanged blue creature that walks on two legs?
Fortunately for Einar, he manages to fight off the last 3 strands stealing his strength, though those accursed strands have greatly weakened him, and his limbs feel like lead.
Then it bites Geist.
And that's when Seraphine's intensified fireball hits it, and it glares at her with its single malicious eye.
Baknarla moves closer to the Roper.
Mr. Whiskers finishes moving to Greta and then casts Monstrous Physique II on her.
He is now standing next to a four-armed gargoyle. "See if you can't save Einar, please!"
Greta charges over and stabs the creature, but hits only empty air.
Crummock steps back, and casts Divine Favor on Geist.
Geist then snarls, steps up, and starts attacking!
Geist's bite and claw land on the roper, wounding it, and that single eye looks worried. It then suddenly speaks up.
"Hey ... rydych guys yn rhy fighty a bitey i fod tlysau da. Gadewch i ni siarad termau, byddwn? Gallwch gael un o fy tlysau,"it gestures at the frozen corpses,"Os byddwch yn gadael i mi ei ben ei hun ac yn gadael y lle hwn, ac byth yn dychwelyd." It blinks its single eye at the party.
Hey...you guys are too fighty and bitey to be good trophies. Let's talk terms, shall we? You can have one of my trophies,
If you will leave me alone and leave this place, and never return.
Then it repeats itself in Traixian.
"Hej ... vi ste previše borbeni i gnjavni da budete dobri trofeji. Razgovarajmo o uvjetima, zar ne? Možete imati jedan od mojih trofeja," it gestures at the frozen corpses, "
Ako me ostavite na miru i napustite ovo mjesto, i nikad se ne vratite."
"Hey...you guys are too fighty and bitey to be good trophies. Let's talk terms, shall we? You can have one of my trophies," "If you will leave me alone and leave this place, and never return."
As the thing starts to speak, Einar, Begins to rage just so he can remain standing, and reaches up casting burning hands at the thing, then steps away from it, stumbling backwards.
Crummock glares warily at it, then responds.
"Anwybyddwch y idiot. Byddwn yn cymryd y Adlet. Byddaf yn anrhydeddu eich termau, ond os ydych yn dyblu croesi ni, byddwn yn cael unrhyw drugaredd."
He then moves to collect the Adlet's corpse, before warily directing Geist to drag Einar out of the room.
"Gadewch yn cael ei wneud, ac yna." Then it sort of blends into its surroundings and all your see is staglatites. Nothing stops as the party as they take the adlet corpse and move out of the chamber.
Let it be done, then.
The adlet's corpse has the following items:
A +1 dragonbane thawing longspear, a belt of fallen heroes, and a Prophet's Pectoral, which Baknarla claims.
"Einar, it offered to let us take one of it's trophies if we let it live! Unfortunately I don't understand what Crummock told it." Mr. Whiskers shouts.
He then says in Terran "Crummock, what did you say to it?"
After claiming Sarnok’s shaman rainment, Baknarla intones, ”Rest well Sarnok. This place is not fitting a grave for one such as you. After I have reclaimed my rightful place as the leader of the Frostwolves, I will see your remains interned with the clan. This, I promise.” She then carries the adlet corpse and hands Sarnok’s spear and belt to the party as thanks for their aid and leads the way out of the place.
After the party emerges from the other side of the RimeKeening Creevase, they are greeted by a worried Shantha, ”Commander Pharamol told us that Hirah died. Damnit. We shouldn’t even have let you enter the Creevase.”
”I had a bad feeling about the Creevase all along,” Nevra answers. ”I knew it was a bad idea for you to go in. I should have voiced my feelings out…now it’s too late.” Nevra looks despondent.
”Women.” Talsune grumbles under his breath, ”All that drama.”
”Well while they were busy arguing on why they didn’t stop you from entering the Creevase, I did a little rackey. I managed to dodge some of the Drakeland Legions, but there’s a lot more. I suggest that we fly in and set a couple of things on fire,” With that, Avatre gets a goofy grin on her face. ”So that the distraction will hopefully pull some attention off you lot.”
”Ivoryglass within the Vahara Glacier, inside a large well-like shaft almost 200 feet called a moulin, formed over millennia form glacial meltwater. It’s actually made from a palely reflective white stone, rather then ice, and the only way into or out of Ivoryglass moulin is the open top of the glacier. Which is full of Drakeland forces, which is why I suggested the distraction. Unless you have better ideas?”
”The air is patrolled by Frost Drakes and flying Drakeland Sorcerers, while there are Hydras and Dragonkin patrolling the grounds of Ivoryglass itself.”