Despite the warming weather, you notice a snowflake drifting down, passing before your eyes in a moment of alien beauty.
.
Either from previous encounters with her Majesty, or from word-of-mouth of your deeds, you all have been summoned to appear before Queen Elvanna of the icy nation of Irrisen. Four guards and two winter wolves escort you into the throne room, where there are a throng of Jadwiga nobles and an unnerving number of cold fey, including ice trolls, snow goblin slaves, fairies, and even two frost giantesses flanking the empty throne.
No one addresses you unless approached first, but the rumor mill is active, many pointing you out to others and in hushed tones regale to each other your many exploits. A snow goblin rather gracelessly offers a platter of spiced wine to you as you are forced to await the Queen's arrival.
With a knock on his door, the lithe young man looks up from his studies. Rising, he casually moves to answer it. Opening the door, a messenger stands before him and declares, "Vincent Drago, Queen Elvanna hereby requests your attendance!" He then formally bows and takes his leave.
Watching the man leave, "Yes," he speaks under his breath, "I shall be there promptly," he mutters to himself, sighing as he shuts the door. The lone man's voice is smooth as glass and while he does not possess a low voice, nor is it high either. Running a hand through his long white hair, the man of bronze skin and ice blue eyes readies himself to leave.
Living in Whitethrone as far as he can remember, he knew his way quite well to the palace; especially considering how he has been called upon numerous times over the years to aid in various attacks. I do wonder what it is that must be dealt with this time. After readying himself and gathering his things, he walks out the front door. He squints a moment to let his eyes adjust to the glare of the sun upon the ice. Once he's finally acclimated, he pops his neck from one side and then to the other. Taking a deep breath, a pair of leathery, copper-like wings - which also happened to be tipped with a bit of green - sprout from his back. The sorcerer then takes to the skies, heading straight for the palace.
As he surveys the land while he makes his way there, he looks upon Bone Road. Shaking his head, I will never understand the reasoning behind a road made of skulls. She is ever the 'practical' one she is, he thinks sarcastically.
As he is escorted within the throne room, Vincent finds an 'away' spot and makes his way there. Accepting the offered wine,
This is... odd. Typically she simply gives orders to her first in command what we are to do and then we execute said plan. Nothing more, nothing less. Why such fanfare? The sorcerer then takes a proper sip of his wine, wondering what it is the Queen is up to.
At her inn in Whitethrone, Hylota alters her witching gown to the fashion currently in court and dons her jewelry. It was all her own make - she found most others work inferior to her own. Settling a necklace worked into the shape of ice crystals about her throat, she looked at herself in the mirror and nodded. She then glided from the room and stepped into the waiting carriage. "To the palace," was all she said as she stepped in, and shortly the driver had the carriage rumbling forward.
Hylota thought back to when she'd received Queen Elvanna's summons. The royal messenger had been waiting in her father's house for her - had apparently arrived at the house and waited throughout the day for nearly a week. She'd hardly had time to say hello before he insisted she depart. Well, once she was done with whatever her cousin wanted, she'd finally have time to relax and enjoy Irrisen for a while - till wanderlust inevitably pulled her away again. Perhaps the next time it did, she'd try crossing the Crown of the World and see this Tian Xia she'd heard about. There was surely something fun there.
She'd skipped most of the journey from Redtooth to Whitethrone by teleporting almost to the capital, then entering the city gates and taking a room at a fine inn close to the palace. She then set about making sure she would be presentable once invited into the palace, learning about the fashion and who was in town and what Queen Elvanna had been up to lately. Once she was properly prepared, she hired the carriage and ensured she would arrive at the appointed time.
After being escorted into the room, she looked about and sought out those she recognized, making sure to stop over, say a word, and show just how up to date she was on the happenings in Irrisen. She took a goblet of spiced wine, then watched the snow goblin walk away from her, sighing. A pity the snow goblins aren't as fun as those I met in Varisia. So wild and erratic - plus that obsession with fire. I wouldn't dream of using it, but they were quite amusing. Thistletop seemed anice enough place - pity that Nualia showed up with her 'All must worship Lamashtu' and 'Get revenge on Sandpoint' obsessions. Sandpoint was nice. I wonder if she ever succeeded in her goal. Realizing she'd gotten distracted, Hylota turned back to what her 4th cousin 5 times removed was saying - something about bunyons? She hoped that didn't happen to her feet.
Noticing one of the humans she'd been summoned with standing off to the side, she drifted over to him and said, "How curious our attendance before Queen Elvanna, no? I am Hylota."
In the throneroom of the Winter Palace the night before:
Tazwell had been mingling among a mixed group of the Winter Queen's guests for several hours in the soaring crystalline hall where the reception was taking place. After six months in Whitethrone as the Queen's latest court bard, he had become blasé about rubbing shoulders with a mixed group of courtiers that ranged from giants and trolls to wicked faerie emissaries from across the border with Feyfrost. Great shaggy winter wolves argued and conversed among themselves, sometimes in the speech of men and sometimes with yips and howls.
He had chosen a fine set of red robes with flashy gold embroidery to make sure he stood out against the crowd of the locals tonight. That wasn't hard considering the local fashion tended towards white, white, more white, maybe some fur, and finally white. Eternal winter was one thing, but Taz was determined to spice up the fashion scene in Whitethrone before his time here was out. His outfit was completed by a black cape trimmed in fox fur, fine tooled leather boots, and a feathered, floppy brimmed hat in an ostentatious style picked to particularly annoy the drab locals.
While his reputation as a powerful bard and magician and his favored status with the queen mostly protected him from molestation among this crowd of her guests, Taz was also aware that he was swimming in a sea of metaphorical sharks that would turn on an outsider in a moment if they perceived any weakness. The Queen was unlikely to lift a finger to aid her pretty court bard if he turned out to not be capable of seeing to his his own affairs. Because of this, he stayed alert to trouble as he circled through the crowd and his attentiveness paid off as he caught site of trouble stalking him from across the chamber.
Trouble came in the form of a red haired, broad shouldered, Satyr stomping across the chamber in his direction on overly large hooves. A hairy fur cloak was draped across the fey's shoulders and an extravagant set of silvered pipes rested in the crook of his arm. Tazwell had never met this particular fey, but by reputation he knew this Satyr bard to Omulguos, the champion musician of Feyfrost. From the look on his face, Omulgous had decided to make a name for himself by challenging the current Irisen court bard to a contest before the Queen herself.
Sensing conflict and potential entertainment, the crowd of courtiers moved from between the two bards and a great circle, seventy-five feet across was formed by spectators looking for a show. Tazwell glanced over his shoulder across the chamber to the Queen and raised an eyebrow in question. In answer, she merely laughed merrily out loud and raised a glass of cherry red wine to her lips in a mock toast.
Seeing the byplay between Taz and the Queen and mistaking it for a sign of weakness. Omulgous stomped forward several paces and raised his silver pipes to the crowd, raising a cheer from some of those gathered. The pipes trilled out a melodic challenge.
To this, Tazwell only had one answer. The bard crouched slightly and launched himself into the air, the spell of flight he had cast upon himself earlier allowing him to raise himself up twenty feet into the air. He thrust his left hand into the air above him, the sleeves of the robes pulling back to reveal a black leather glove on his left hand. He released a tiny bit of will to command the magic of the glove and beautiful ebon guitar, glowing with enchantment, and stringed with silver appeared in his hand. Taz brought his left arm down with the magical instrument as his right hand rose to meet it. When they came together, a chord of music that was equal parts sound and magic roared across the chamber.
An hour later, the contest was done. The two rival bards had traded songs back and forth in their impromptu musical duel repeatedly, but it had been apparent for most of that time that the Satyr bard was outmatched. Finally, his magic spent, Omulgous dropped to his knees, panting for breath with a stunned look upon his face. The gathered crowd of courtiers roared their approval for the victory of the Queen's champion. The howls of winter wolves mixed with traditional applause, the hoots of snow goblins, and the roars of giants and trolls.
Tazwell turned and was surprised to find that during the contest the Queen had left her throne and drifted closer coming to within a matter of yards at the conclusion. She inclined her head to Tazwell and said in a commanding voice “Well done master bard. Your songs continue to provide enough entertainment that we will ignore your abominable fashion sense.” To this, Tazwell could only graciously bow his head, doffing his feathered hat and sweeping it low, and answer “You are too kind your majesty.”
Then Queen Elvanna turned on the panting fey with an expression that truly defined 'icy'. The satyr could do little down on his knees besides incline his head. The Queen's cold voice rang out as she spoke to the assembled crowd: “Others this evening have proven to be disappointing.....”. Elvanna's hands rose toward the ceiling and the unmistakable feeling of a great magical working gathered in the air and the winter winds howled louder than any of the wolves. The Witch Queen's hands came down and a magical cyclone of frost descended upon the satyr. As quick as it came, the cyclone was gone, leaving the fey encased in a solid block of ice a full foot thick.
Tazwell grimaced to himself as he took in the consequences of displeasing the Queen. He bowed and started to withdraw when the Queen's hand reached out to take him by the arm. Tazwell's eyes momentarily bulged in alarm at the Queen's show of familiarity “A moment, my pet” she said as she started to walk away drawing him along. “Walk with me.”
“Of course your majesty.” Taz answered as he wracked his brain for how to extract himself from a conversation with her majesty.
“Tomorrow I am calling council of my advisers and ministers to discuss a problem confronting my kingdom. I have invited a handful of outside specialists to attend as well. I would very much like for you to be there. I think perhaps that there might arise a better use for your talents in my service than we have seen so far.” the Queen contined.
[b]“Your wish is my command your highness.” Tazwell answered smoothly as his mind raced with options for how he might be able to escape the kingdom in the next twelve hours.
“Excellent” Elvanna answered with a wicked smile. “Now run along my pet and I will see you at the council on the morrow.” With that, she released his arm and continue on, drawing away from Tazwell and leaving him to worry about what trouble he might have gotten himself into.
Noticing one of the humans she'd been summoned with standing off to the side, she drifted over to him and said, "How curious our attendance before Queen Elvanna, no? I am Hylota.".
Vincent hurriedly finishes off his latest sip as he was caught off guard by the visitor. After dabbing his mouth with a napkin, "Yes, yes it is, quite curious to be sure. This is most unlike her, at least, in my experience. And I am Vincent," he bows his head in greeting. "A pleasure to meet you, Hylota."
Hylota laughs at Vincent's surprise. "I noticed you because you don't appear to be a member of the court. So tell me, what does my dear cousin Queen wish of you? Are you a fierce warrior, or a powerful wizard? Why do you live in the frozen north and not someplace warmer?"
A fox suddenly emerges from the crowd and runs over to Hylota, hopping up on its hind legs and resting its fore paws against her. She picks it up and lets it perch around her shoulders like a stole, where it promptly closes its eyes as though to sleep. "Oh, yes, this is my familiar, Virix." She idly scratches Virix's head as he lies there.
Raising an eyebrow, Cousin? Fascinating. Remember to inquire about such. Turning his attention to the fox, the sorcerer grins. "Well hello, Virix, a pleasure to meet you. Truly a fine creature you have allied yourself with," he compliments. Turning his eyes back upon the witch, "And those are loaded questions, my lady. Let me see if I am up to the task of answering them," he says, grinning playfully. He then ponders his answers a moment before beginning. "What she wishes of me currently I do not know. Typically I am called upon to take part in any attacks against whomever she pleases... nothing more, nothing less. As for being a 'fierce warrior' or a 'powerful wizard' I do not feel I am either. But, for one who lives alone here in Whitethrone and considering the fact that I still live, one could surmise I have some use," he says as a matter of fact.
"And to your last question: Well, I have always lived in Whitethrone for as long as I can remember. It was the Queen who raised me. Well, not her directly of course. To be honest I've had very little contact with the Queen over the years. She's always had... 'others' to raise me until I was old enough to care for myself. And as I have previously stated, if I am called upon to aid her army in battle, I do so. So that is why I have always lived in the frozen land. I know nothing else," he admits, shrugging as if it is what it is.
"Now, I must confess my curiosity has gotten the better of me. Cousins you say? You are related to the Queen?" he asks, truly intrigued.
Taz entered the throne room the next day to find the mood more somber than usual.
Less of the Queen's frivolous courtiers were present and an higher number of her more martial advisers than normal seemed to have been called together than normal.
He marked at least two strangers he had not seen in his previous six months in Whitethrone, a scaled, winged draconic figure and what appeared to be one of the enumerable witches that populated the country.
During the caravan travel north to Irissen, Szasa would often draw out the letter and just look at it.
This is clearly the prettiest job offer I've ever received. she would think to herself.
It took the caravan approximately two weeks to arrive in Whitethrone, and Szasa took her meager pay, found a place to change, and then made her way to the Elvanna's castle.
Upon arrival, she presented her invitation then followed the entourage to the throneroom, where she was announced before they promptly left without a word to her.
Seeing to make a good impression, Szasa strode into the room on the heels of his introduction.
Seeing the giants, she smiled and then waved at them. Both of their eyes widened, and one involuntarily took a half-step back, but other than that there was no reaction.
Good to see the Frost Giants of Irrisen still tell stories about me. Szasa thought to herself before taking a glass of spiced wine from the Goblin with a "Thank you!"
Asking around a bit, she was pointed in the direction of a handful of what could only be called adventurers. Approaching, she introduced herself: "Greetings. My name is Szasa, although I am often called Lady Szasa. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"Oh, quite distantly. I'm her seventh cousin three times removed on my father's side. Hardly worth mentioning, but it does serve to impress every now and then. I've been out of the country for many years, and just came back recently to find the Queen's messenger waiting for me in Redtooth."
She studies the man she is speaking with. "So, the Queen 'raised' you, you say. How interesting that she should take interest in a male like that. You aren't one of her sons - you don't look like it, anyway. For her to have that kind of interest, there must be something interesting about you. You have some sort of gift or special power she wants under her control. Why don't you tell me about it? I promise to keep it secret." The word secret comes out a little sing songy as she smiles sweetly at him and bats her eyelashes, trying to get him to open up.
Taz is dressed in the same obnoxious rock-star costume with the plumed hat that he wore the day before.
Tazwell looks to the latest addition to the crowded hall and introduces himself in turn.
Bowing low and sweeping his ridiculously plumed floppy hat almost to the floor he replies: "Greetings Lady Szasa ... I am Tazwell Bladenkurst, court bard to Queen Elvanna for the season. I am most pleased to make your acquaintance."
A moment after Lady Szasa enters and introduces herself, a choir of silvery bells announces the arrival of Her Majesty, Queen Elvanna. Looking ever the frozen beauty, her dress is textured to recreate a frozen river's surface, with white fur and feathers adding her own personal flair. Jewelry made from diamonds, sapphires, and even true ice adorn her from head to toe. She did not wear gloves, or even shoes, but her head was not without her icy crown, the enchanted artifact placed there personally by the Queen of Witches - Baba Yaga - herself. The crown, though beautifully crafted, seemed to protrude from her scalp like an alien growth rather than be an item placed there.
Her present court are all members of her military council, most - if not all - are recognized by Vincent, though to the others they are either strangers or passing faces in the arctic courts of Irrisen. They bow respectively to Elvanna, both from the glares from the frost giant guards and from fear of her Ladyship, her display of displeasure still fresh in their minds from last night (Tazwell perhaps most of all).
The Queen takes her throne and crosses her legs, making herself comfortable before crooking a finger at you four. Making your way towards her, you are stopped at the steps to the throne's dais by the polearms of the giants should you try and advance further.
"I speak for all of Irrisen in thanking you for granting me an audience with you all. Your loyalty and devotion to the crown will not go unrewarded, nor will your future service."
"I have gathered you, my agents, to this council to offer you a chance at glory and service to Irrisen. As we all know, my Mother is due to return to this land in a few years. Her Three Riders have already been sighted within our borders. I wish to offer Baba Yaga with a gift to show my loyalty and submission to her wishes - the Torc of Kostchtchie, the item she used to create the demon and that she hid away within the Veil of Frozen Tears."
There is fierce murmuring amongst those gathered, all referencing the Witchwar in which the Queen Tashanna had tried to use the Torc against the feared Witch Queen.
"My request of you, my agents, is to reclaim this item and deliver it unto me. Do this, and you shall want for nothing whilst in my kingdom."
Her smile, through dazzling as sunlight in the snow, coldly promises that you will do as she asks.
"Oh, quite distantly. I'm her seventh cousin three times removed on my father's side. Hardly worth mentioning, but it does serve to impress every now and then. I've been out of the country for many years, and just came back recently to find the Queen's messenger waiting for me in Redtooth."
Nodding, "Fascinating."
She studies the man she is speaking with. "So, the Queen 'raised' you, you say. How interesting that she should take interest in a male like that. You aren't one of her sons - you don't look like it, anyway. For her to have that kind of interest, there must be something interesting about you. You have some sort of gift or special power she wants under her control. Why don't you tell me about it? I promise to keep it secret." The word secret comes out a little sing songy as she smiles sweetly at him and bats her eyelashes, trying to get him to open up.
Grinning curiously, "Alright, well, as I've stated, not her specifically, she did employ others for such mundane tasks. And no, I am not a child of the Queen. At least, not as far as I've been told. I was told I was orphaned as an infant, rescued by her Majesty and raised for...," he pauses, then looks away into his thoughts for a moment before coming to the only realization that seems only fitting. Returning from his reverie, he looks back to the winter witch, "War? I guess? I must confess I am at a loss on how to answer your question. I have never given it any thought on why she has kept me around. Again, as I have said, this is all I've known so I've never questioned it. Whatever it is she commands... I simply do," he shrugs. "But it is always battle. Always. Now, I do possess a bit of magic that is of the cold nature." He then leans in a bit and keeps his voice low, "But I have an fantastic affinity for electricity and possess a great deal more magic in relation to that than of the cold nature. While it is probable her Majesty knows this - and a part of me feels that she accepts it - I do not by any stretch make it appear that I favor the latter over the former," he gives a wink as he leans back out.
He then takes a deep breath before continuing. "And I have also found I possess an affinity for dragons. While I am not entirely sure why, I have done a great deal of research upon myself and found that either I exist within the bloodline of a dragon or was a child of one directly. And by deduction I have come to the conclusion it is either from the Blue chromatic lineage or the Bronze metallic lineage. And judging by the color of my skin, I would gather I am an offspring of a Bronze dragon. Now this is merely a theory of mine which I happen to feel is quite accurate. But I have never asked the Queen nor do I intend to. If she knows - which I would be surprised if she did not - and simply refuses to tell me, then so be it. But at this point in my life it no longer matters due to my confidence of my theory."
Asking around a bit, she was pointed in the direction of a handful of what could only be called adventurers. Approaching, she introduced herself: "Greetings. My name is Szasa, although I am often called Lady Szasa. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Just as he's about to say something else, he finds himself interrupted by a newcomer. Bowing his head in greeting, "A pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Szasa. I am Vincent."
Szasa returns polite greetings to both Vincent and Tarwell, then turns to the fanfare of the Queen arriving. When beckoned forward, Szasa moves and stands in front of the queen and listens to her request.
"I have no problem helping with your request, your majesty. As I don't think any of us want to unduly take up your time with information requests, was there a scholar among your court that we could speak to in order to get the information we need on our objective?"
Hylota's eyes go wide at Vincent's saying he was likely a dragon. "A dragon? Oh, the Queen must have such wonderful plans for you. I do feel sorry for you, though - whatever her plans, the end result is probably going to result in your death."
As Szasa comes over to them and introduces herself, she says, "Lovely to meet you, Lady Szasa. I am Hylota. I love your tunic. Is that spidersilk? Oh, is that a Varisian scarf? I spent some time in Variisa. The goblins there are so much more interesting than the ones up here - so chaotic and random. Plus that fire obsession is so fascinating. Have you spent time with the goblins in Varisia?"
At Tazwell's appearance and introduction, she says, "Oh, so you're the court bard I've heard so much about. Such a distinctive, breathtaking sense of fashion. You certainly stand out. I hear you got a satyr frozen by the Queen yesterday after a bard duel. I hope to hear you play sometime. Oh, look, there she is!" she finishes by exclaiming at the Queen's entrance.
At Queen Elvanna's beckoning, Hylota glides forward and executes a perfect curtsy. She'd clearly been well-trained in the ways of Elvanna's court. She listens to the Queen's order - for that is what it was, regardless of how it was phrased. Though she kept her face smooth, her mind raced. Queen Tashanna, another of Baba Yaga's daughters, used the Torc to attempt to stop Baba Yaga from taking her. Baba Yaga could have taken the Torc then, but she did not. Would Elvanna dare to do the same, even knowing that Tashanna failed? Does she truly intend to offer it as a gift, or use it as a weapon? I must tread very carefully, or I could end up caught between two of the most powerful witches to ever live.
Hylota curtsies after the Queen's order and says, "I shall do as you command, Your Majesty."
Tazwell bows to the queen and says "As you command your majesty. I'm sure the endeavor will prove to be most exciting and will provide inspiration for a new ballad that I will perform for your court."
Vincent formally moves up and stops at the designated spot. Retrieve an item? Well that is a far cry from the norm. Fascinating. Once she finishes speaking, Vincent bows and simply responds with, "Yes, my Queen." He then awaits a moment or two to see if the Queen responds to Lady Szasa's question.
You know that the ninth queen of Irrisen, the infamous Queen Tashanna, attempted to wage war against her mother, the crone Baba Yaga, in a bid to retain her throne and not be removed. She sought to even the odds by acquiring the Torc of Kostchtchie and force the demon lord to work with her to defeat the Queen of Witches. While the demonic giant did not wish to work with the witch nation, he hated Baba Yaga more and was willing to work with Tashanna to this end.
However, they did not realize that, while Baba Yaga created the Torc she could also control it and thus the demon lord. While Kostchtchie and his army of demons and giants marched on the Witch Queen, who stood alone, she waited for them. As Kostchtchie charged ahead of his forces, she held up her hand, as if stopping a carriage, and the giant froze in his steps. His body was ravaged with fiery pain, falling to his hands and knees before his horde as his followers caught fire around him. Desperate and in agony, Kostchtchie withdrew what remained of his forces, being carried from the field.
Tashanna's forces, who awaited news at Whitethrone, were surprised by the sole figure emerging from the blizzard and then horrified when they saw it was Baba Yaga herself, cackling at the joke this rebellion was. The blizzard suddenly died, revealing an army of cold fey and assorted fiends that ravaged any who resisted. Those supporters of Tashanna that remained were marched north to a glacier. Many died on the journey, and those that tried to escape were butchered by trolls, goblins, and winter wolves. At the end, they found their families and allies gathered and chained across the face of the glacier and down in the valley below, the Dancing Hut standing at the edge.
Baba Yaga, from her seat on the Hut's porch, spoke in a hushed voice, but everyone present could hear her voice. “I see that my wisdom was not taken to heart. My spoiled, upstart brat of a child has thought it clever to challenge me, and you – the miserable sheep that you are – followed your pretty little shepherdess. If only you knew the wolf that awaited you, to drive you off this cliff and feast on your broken remains.”
Suddenly the glacier cracked and groaned before roaring with life. The waters contained within were released, cascading down onto those chained on the ice and below to trees and stones. The river she created lasted for moments before freezing once again, a tapestry of ice inlaid with thousands of rubies.
“This place!” the Witch Queen cried out, weaving her hands in a spell. “Shall be forever remembered as a momument to those who abide in my kingdom!” The earth trembled, great burrowing worms the size of dragons bursting forth. “Let all bear witness to the fate of those foolish enough to dare to defy Baba Yaga!” The worms began to burrow into the ice, carving paths and tunnels into the glacier. “Here, I AM QUEEN! I AM BABA YAGA! ALL SHALL FEAR ME AND REJOICE!”
From that day forward, none dared to oppose the Witch Queen. The Torc was ripped from Tashanna's neck and delivered by an ice devil into the caverns below, and the Hut took Baba Yaga, Tashanna, and those of Tashanna's house away from Golarion, just as all queens of Irrisen before. The haunted place is known as the Veil of Frozen Tears.
Elvanna nods, at Szasa's question. “I do believe my fellow witch, Hylota Elvanna, will be able to answer any questions you may have. You may have two days to prepare for the journey. No longer. Now, I have plans to discuss with my council.” Those who escorted you in guided you out. You see a satyr statue, frozen in an expression of terror, on your way out. Those familiar with Elvanna thought that perhaps the Queen placed it there so you would see it on the way out, another promise of what might happen should you fail.
Hylota curtsies and goes with the escorts, taking note of the frozen satyr. Message received, cousin.
The nice they are out of the throne room, Hylota says to a servant, ”Have my carriage brought around.” Looking at the other three, she says, ”We can go to my inn to discuss plans. I’ll tell you more about our task on the way.”
Once the carriage arrives, she bids her companions board as she does so herself. Once they are all in the carriage and it is underway, she explains what she knows of the Veil and the Torc.
Once they arrive at the inn, she says to the innkeeper, ”We need a private room - and make sure we are not disturbed. Send up wine, for now, and we shall dine at the normal time.”
Once they are ensconced in the private dining room, she says, ”So, what shall we plan for?”
After hearing the tale of the Torc, Tashanna, and Baba Yaga relayed by Hylota, Tazwell thinks for a moment.
"It would seem to me that the question is 'If Baba Yaga wanted the Torc locked away within the Veil of Frozen Tears, why does Elvanna think it would be an appropriate gift to give her now?'" he poses to the others.
"While refusing Elvanna is never a good idea, I feel that this enterprise may well turn out to be a bad idea."
To Hylota "Do you know the location of the Veil, and do you have the means to transport us there?"
"Fascinating." He then thinks on the entirety of it all for a moment before finally speaking. "As far as why the Queen wants it, it matters not. Whether it be a gift or to follow in the footsteps of her sister. While I do not think the Queen a liar, I also do not believe she tells us everything. But that is neither here nor there, whatever she decides will be between her and her mother. As for us...," he pauses, looking to them all a moment, "I would suggest dressing warmly. We've a long journey. And as for myself, I do not know the location of the Veil so in that regard I must echo Tazwell in questioning if either of you know of its location." He looks to both Hylota and then Lady Szasa, constantly switching between the two, curious if one of them might have any clues.
"Lovely to meet you, Lady Szasa. I am Hylota. I love your tunic. Is that spidersilk? Oh, is that a Varisian scarf? I spent some time in Variisa. The goblins there are so much more interesting than the ones up here - so chaotic and random. Plus that fire obsession is so fascinating. Have you spent time with the goblins in Varisia?"
"I have spent a fair bit of time in Varisia, yes. As for the Goblins, I would have to say that they are a bundle of energy that can be useful if directed properly. I knew a Goblin pirate captain of a ship I travelled on for a couple of weeks. He was an interesting fellow, and didn't even try and slit my throat or set me on fire in the middle of the night."
Szasa strode up the stairs and into the meeting room. Taking the first seat she saw with her back to the door, Szasa waiting for the others to be seated. After Hylota asked her question, Szasa replied with "Perhaps we should get to know each other a bit better first? I would be more than happy to start. My name is Szasa, and though people call me Lady, I am in fact a commoner. The full title is Lady of The Blade, but people just started shortening it to Lady, so I just let it stand."
Taking a sip from the wine, Szasa continues "I am the master of bladed weapons. There may be one or two better swordswomen or swordsmen alive, but I could hold my own against any of them. The giants of Irrisen call me the fanged death, and I am also known as the champion of the Belkzen arenas, the only woman to ever hold such a title."
"In short, if you are my foe, it will not end well for you."
Smirking, she takes another sip of wine.
"Most pleased to meet you Szasa" Tazwell replies.
"My full name is Tazwell Bladenkurst, presently court bard to Queen Elvanna, a title I have have held for half a year and defended against several challengers, such as that unfortunate satyr you saw back in the Queen's court."
"I won a singing challenge here in Irrisen last year and the Queen has kept me on. I've been balancing the rewards versus the chance of ending up as an icicle ever since."
"I have talents in addition to singing. I am a fair magician in my own right and I have long since mastered the ability to sculpt sound itself into a weapon."
After the group finishes introducing themselves to one another, Tazwell rises to his feet.
"Gentlefolk, I believe I need to fetch a bag of my belongings from my inn on the other side of town. I'll nip out for a bit and return fully provisioned and ready to begin."
Tazwell pulls a hip flask form his belt and throws back a stiff pull of whiskey.
"That always hits the spot." he exclaims.
Then makes a pass in front of his body and incants with a few arcane syllables, covering himself with a Veil.
Before the other's eyes he seems to gain a foot of height, at least a hundred pounds of weight, his clothes transform into a suit of metal studded hide armor, and his nose grows prodigiously. His appearance has shifted from a rock-star bard to an ice troll warrior before their eyes. The reek of unwashed troll starts to fill the room.
"Not that convincing if I have to speak, but I can fix that in a moment." Tazwell says in his own voice.
He incants again quickly casting sculpt sound on himself, changing his voice from his typical human's barritone to a grating troll's speech.
"That should keep anyone from being suspicious about what I'm doing or where I'm going." he rumbles in giantish.
"Back as quick as I can." he mutters in giantish.
With that he lifts a tray of drinks and carries it from the room, heading downstairs to the kitchen to drop them off, surprising the waitstaff.
"The bigshots in the dining room need a fresh tray of drinks!" he barks at the waitstaff.
(heroism)
(heroism) (to see if anyone seems to be spying on us and if they realize the troll is Tazwell)
On the way to his inn to pick up his gear, Tazwell stops in a troll bar called the Red-Eyed Bear, an establishment frequented by trolls, ogres, and winter wolves from the queen's forces. He heads to the bar and orders himself a flagon of troll grog.
The he proceeds to complain about the extra duty that had been forced upon him by the Queen's special assembly that day and to spend some time trying to find out what anyone else might happen to know about the search for the Torc that the queen had initiated. He will spend a little coin on drinks (or meat or whatever a winter wolf consumes in a bar) to keep the conversation flowing.
(heroism)
He spends hours drinking and attempting to learn information.
When he is finished, he returns to his inn and fetches his bag of mundane gear and his spare guitar, then he heads back to Hylota's inn to rendezvous with the others.
When he is close, he finds a private place to out of view around the corner of the inn and checks to see if anyone is watching.
If the coast is clear, he dimension doors back into the private dining room, appearing right inside the doorway.
"Howdy folks, I'm back." he grunts in giantish. Then he drops his illusions and reports what, if anything he has learned.
Hylota says, ”Not only do I know where it is, I have the ability to cast a spell and teleport us there. We can take a couple of days to prepare before we must depart.”
As Szasa suggests they get to know each other, Hylota says, ”It is wonderful to meet such a skilled swordswoman. Your blade will be a boon to us, I’m sure. And you, Tazwell, are a man of great courage. Anyone willing to brave the whims if Queen Elvanna is good to adventure with.
My name is Hylota. I am Queen Elvanna’s seventh cousin three times removed on my father’s side, and a Winter Witch in my own right. The identity of my mother is unknown, although I suspect she may not have been human. Several years ago, I was struck by wanderlust and ventured from Irrisen. In my time, I have seen the Land of the Linnorm Kings, Varisia, Kaer Maga, and some time in Molthune, Nidal, and Nirmathas - the latter as a member of a mercenary company and treasure hunters. I am currently exiled from Magnimar under pain of death for a misunderstanding - apparently it’s illegal to turn people who spill drinks on you into toads there. I also have a reputation for inconsistency, distraction, and whimsical cruelty, but usually only towards people who annoy me.” Here, Hylota smiles sweetly. ”But, if they aren’t dead by the time my annoyance passes, I usually fix them up. I have some healing ability.”
Szasa strode up the stairs and into the meeting room. Taking the first seat she saw with her back to the door, Szasa waiting for the others to be seated. After Hylota asked her question, Szasa replied with "Perhaps we should get to know each other a bit better first? I would be more than happy to start. My name is Szasa, and though people call me Lady, I am in fact a commoner. The full title is Lady of The Blade, but people just started shortening it to Lady, so I just let it stand."
Taking a sip from the wine, Szasa continues "I am the master of bladed weapons. There may be one or two better swordswomen or swordsmen alive, but I could hold my own against any of them. The giants of Irrisen call me the fanged death, and I am also known as the champion of the Belkzen arenas, the only woman to ever hold such a title."
"In short, if you are my foe, it will not end well for you."
Smirking, she takes another sip of wine.
With a look of understanding about him, "With that being the case, Lady Szasa, I pray I never become your foe," he says with a nod.
As Szasa suggests they get to know each other, Hylota says, ”It is wonderful to meet such a skilled swordswoman. Your blade will be a boon to us, I’m sure. And you, Tazwell, are a man of great courage. Anyone willing to brave the whims if Queen Elvanna is good to adventure with.
My name is Hylota. I am Queen Elvanna’s seventh cousin three times removed on my father’s side, and a Winter Witch in my own right. The identity of my mother is unknown, although I suspect she may not have been human. Several years ago, I was struck by wanderlust and ventured from Irrisen. In my time, I have seen the Land of the Linnorm Kings, Varisia, Kaer Maga, and some time in Molthune, Nidal, and Nirmathas - the latter as a member of a mercenary company and treasure hunters. I am currently exiled from Magnimar under pain of death for a misunderstanding - apparently it’s illegal to turn people who spill drinks on you into toads there. I also have a reputation for inconsistency, distraction, and whimsical cruelty, but usually only towards people who annoy me.” Here, Hylota smiles sweetly. ”But, if they aren’t dead by the time my annoyance passes, I usually fix them up. I have some healing ability.”
He then looks over to Hylota. "And I pray I never reach the point of 'annoying' you, Hylota," he says with the slightest of grins, yet knowing full well that that is not a path he dare travels.
He then looks over at Tazwell, "A pleasure, Tazwell, and I look forward to see how you've managed to turn your music into a weapon."
Taking a deep breath, he glances over at Hylota before proceeding. "I am Vincent. I have lived in Whitethrone all my life and know nothing else. And from what I have just realized recently," he glances again over at Hylota, "I have been an instrument for war. That is truly odd to say because I do not feel like an instrument for war but I do not know what else to make of it. Typically, when the Queen decides to dispatch her troops for an assault, I am called upon to aid in such an assault. And the more I think on it, the less I understand why. Nevertheless, I do as commanded and I've been assisting in such endeavors for several years now. I am fairly well-versed in a bit of magic myself, but, probably not to the extent of Hylota and/or Tazwell." He then looks away into his thoughts a moment before turning back to the others. "That is why I find this objective so fascinating. There are only four of us... not an army. And we are to 'retrieve' an item, not destroy a people."
As Tazwell the Troll passes towards the Red-Eyed Bear, no one gives you a second look, save one ogress who was clearly undressing you with her eyes. Entering, the montrous humanoids within are busy getting drunk, possibly the night shift drinking so they might fall asleep easier. Handed the troll grog, Tazwell leans against the bar and begins to execute his plan. Complaining loudly, many write you off as being drunk before coming in.
A frost giant, sitting to your right, turns to you and glares you down. “If you are truly working for agents of her Highness, you'd know better than to chatter about such assignments in public. Haven't you heard of the Svartokshe threat?”
Assuming you clearly hadn't, the giant continued. “Her Highness has issued a warrant and a hefty bounty for the human known as Svartokshe.” “He's an enemy of the state, terrorizing the fey population and a murderer, having most recently butchered a woodsman's huldra wife and their two children. Most think he's a bitter peasant who got too close to fey in his youth, but the giants around here believe he's a cultist and assassin for Kostchtchie.”
“Should these visitors you speak of indeed are looking for the Torc, they'd be wise to watch their backs and keep their heads down. That fanatic has ears all over, and its getting harder to track his movements.”
Reappearing, you catch your allies up with what you learned.
Reports are that he has killed hundreds of fey and magical creatures, including nymph queens, white witch nobility, and even gnomes. Elvanna's bounty for Svartokshe includes a title and land.
"Fighting an army I can deal with. Getting in between a pissing contest between the Immortal ruler of this realm and a Demon lord on the other hand,...well, that's a whole nother thing, as my son might say."
(heroism)
"It seems we have competition in our search for the Torc. There seems to be some unpleasant fellow named Svartokshe running about killing Elvanna's followers and raising a ruckus."
"Word is he has pledged himself to the demon lord Kostchtchie and the Queen is hot to snatch him up." Tazwell tells the others as he recounts what he learned while snooping about in Whitethrone.
"I'd say the quicker and quieter we skip out of Whitethrone, the better."
Sighing, "Of course," he responds, fairly exasperated at the information. "Well it appears this is to be more than a simple excursion. And while I did not assume there to be no trials in retrieving this item, I did not expect to be prey before we have even began. I would have to agree with our resident court bard, better to leave as soon as possible. Time, it would appear, has apparently become our enemy."
He then looks to Tazwell, "Now when you say: 'snatch him up', please tell me she does not want him alive, does she? If this creature has killed previous followers of Elvanna - not to mention joining forces with said demon lord - then he is obviously a worthy foe and I would gather not so easy to capture."
”You’d be surprised how easy it is to capture someone, Vincent - if you use the right tools. Still, easier to avoid the competition. How long do you think it will take us to gather our supplies?”
Tazwell passes along what he learned about Svartokshe's appearance and Elvanna's reward.
"I'm ready to leave as soon as the rest of you are."
Looking to Hylota in curiosity before turning to Tazwell as he relates the news of the wanted information. "'Bonus for delivery alive', you say?" Turning back to Hylota, "When the time comes for us to face this foe - because I do believe this meeting is inevitable - we may just have to put your theory to the test," he says with a wry grin, nodding.
"And I am ready to depart as well. I have everything I need upon me." He checks within his pack just to make sure he's got everything, and if one observes, it is noticed there are barely a few items within. "I do not require much... as you can see," he admits, shrugging.
"Let me get everything I need to leave." says Szasa as she stands and then buckles on her sword and picks up her pack.
"Okay, I am prepared to leave."
"Hey, can one of you magic types cast the spell that protects against normal heat and cold?"
"No, but I'm sure such can easily be arranged. I haven't noticed the cold in years, so it isn't something I think about often. Still, I need to do some shopping anyway. I'll see what I can pick up. Why don't the rest of you sit and have a bite to eat and something to drink? I'll be back in a moment. Virix, come."
With that, Hylota strides from the private dining room. Entering into the common room, she fixes the proprietor with a look and says, "You are to treat my guests with respect - as you would me. To do otherwise would be most unfortunate for you." She then exits the inn onto the street.
Tazwell props his feet up, pulls his floppy hat down over his eyes, and snoozes until Hylota returns.
Nodding, "We shall await your return." As the witch leaves, Vincent looks around at the others in silence. As they seem to be doing their own thing, he glances around the room, seeing if anything catches his interest. As nothing seems to, he turns his attention to Lady Szasa since it appears the bard is attempting to rest. "I am curious, Lady Szasa, what is the protocol for a group of people when they are waiting on another to return? Personally I would gather we sit in silence and wait. Would this be the norm?"
Szasa chuckles and says "That entirely depends on the group. How good are you at drinking?"
From under the brim of his hat Tazwell says "Don't venture too far. If we do have competition in the hunt for this Torc and if they have agents in Whitethrone, delaying us by starting a drunken fight here in Whitethrone would be a tactic I'd try."
"Not that I think most of Whitethrone's inhabitants, fearsome as they may be, are really a danger to any of us, but, it could tie us up explaining why we killed a company of her majesty's guards in a bar fight."
@ Hylota:
At the magic shop where you purchased the scroll, you are greeted with the gnome shopkeeper, a chubby little man with blue and white striped hair and tiny eyes enlarged by thick glasses. His teeth shone beneath his walrus mustache. "Ah, another snow-white witch humbles my shop with her valuable presence. Good for the ego and good for business, if I might be so bold. Are you also here to purchase Endure Elements? I do not understand why ladies as mighty as yourselves must seek out aid to grapple with the cold, but who am I to question your mysteries and greatness?" He is already opening his cabinets of scroll cases, running his thick fingers along the plaques to find your spell.