Roger snorts, holding back laughter. "Elaborate bait and goblins. Pick one, mate. My mom once told me a story about a goblin 'ambush' where they dressed a cow up like a woman and then tied her up in the middle of the road, making it seem like she was a damsel in distress." He looks at the boat. "I dunno, this seems real. I think I agree with Kytes."
I know that this wasn't on purpose, but Roger accidentally starting a fight, failing to help at all despite his best efforts, breaking his only weapon but still escaping without a scratch is EXACTLY how I pictured him when I was first creating him. Like, it's the perfect mix of just awful luck but also somehow really good luck.
Roger blinks in surprise, then sighs and just puts his fingers on the bridge of his nose, rubbing his eyes slowly as if trying to get rid of a headache. "I mean...yeah, you're not wrong there."
Please keep Alchemists what they are now-a ridiculously malleable class that you can build to do just about anything. Along with Bards, they've become pretty much THE jack of all trades class, with an enormous variety of build options that drastically change the base class. Please don't make them just a generic "blowing stuff up" class. Kind of going off of other people's fears about archetypes, I'm really worried that we're about to lose a lot of the Alchemist's versatility.
Bards also have a few archetypes that work well in the region, like the Sea Singer, Thundercaller or the Savage Skald. Seeing as RL vikings had a pretty strong oral tradition, I can see both Skalds and Bards coexisting fairly well in a Linnorm Kings setting. Also, when you're done making the player guide, would you mind maybe posting it here? I absolutely love this area of the world, the campaign setting book is probably my favorite Paizo book. I'd love to see your take on it. EDIT: If you haven't read the Campaign Setting for the Lands of the Linnorm Kings or the book People of the North, I highly recommend it. There's a ton of plot hooks in there that would work beautifully in this setting. You mentioned that you want your guys to become kings, that exact process is detailed in the Campaign Setting. A level 1-15 or so campaign with the exact purpose of eventually becoming a Linnorm King would be insanely epic.
Oh man, Nidal was number 2 on my list of places I wanted the Campaign Setting books to visit. Now we just need our Realm of the Mammoth Lords book and I'm happy. Very excited about this book.
"Thought that's why we built Claptrap in the first place?" Blekk asks Palo, leaning in between the two conspiratorially.
Blekk takes one of the four-armed jackets and tucks it into his backpack. "Might be useful later on...think I might try growing more arms anyways."
"Uhh, you're really bad at math, Palo-if you subtract Vael, CT and Knick-Knack, it's just me, Rav and Relas. So you don't hate all of us, you hate half of us. Unless you count yourself, in which case it's...57% of us." Blekk grins as he saunters over behind Palo, then he chuckles, shrugs and yells "INCOMING!" as he launches himself through the doorway. His morningstar flashes twice as he strikes with shocking speed at the klaven.
However, he's moving so fast, and laughing so hard, that he utterly fails to hit anything. Because karma.
"Hmm. Hear me out. Palo misses all the time. So what if we make her throw herself at ground? Then when she misses, we now have flying Palo. Don't know how practical it is, but would be funny to see a longshank hurtling through the sky like a comet, screaming cuz she's afraid of heights."
Blekk ducks as the ray nearly scorches him. "You kidding me, Palo? When we get out of this, finding a barn with a big broad side and making you practice on that." His tail snatches his morning star and drops it into his hand. "How about death by a thousand smashes? Think I like the sound of that."
It's the Only Way to Be Sure
Final Report
Get Away from her, you B*#*&!
Have you ever...
Rogue One
Blekk nods in agreement and pats his pockets, making sure his extracts and mutagen are snug and safe. "Agreed. Lead the way, Palo." He blinks slowly as he realizes what he just said. "Please don't tell the others I just said that..."
Blekk lies on the ground, coloring in his alchemy book with a small crayon while kicking his feet back and forth above his head. "Yeah, he's got good head on his shoulders. But in bag currently also on shoulders, he's got craploads of gunpowder. Don't need to be stupid to have bad luck...but yeah, that would definitely not be quiet."
Blekk smiles. "Think you're missing the point though. You just kind of...have magic, right? Like, don't need to study or anything? Just boom-it's there? I mean, I had to WORK to get my drinks. The spider thing? Yeah, wasn't supposed to do that. Was supposed to make identical twin of me, and then we'd gang up on someone. Obviously...didn't exactly work out that way. Useful? Sure. But I had to experiment for like...six hours just to get there." He kicks a small rock, hands in his pockets. "I dunno, any magic would be cool as hell if I could just pull it outta nowhere, I guess. Like, I'm constantly blowing myself up and giving myself tumors to just get a little further. You? You look at universe all nice and go 'Hey, can I do magic?' and universe actually says okay. So maybe you can't blow up things, or create bottomless pits that you then climb down and murder people in. At the end of the day, if we both get knocked out and sent someplace naked, you can still do stuff. Me? Kind of outta luck there." He glances around, smirking devilishly. "Also, you're forgetting you have a massive murder cat made of magic. How do you overlook Relas? Geez Palo, sometimes think the magic mucks with your head like it does with mine..."
And remember kids, it's not a proper rendition of the 1812 Overture unless it has cannons! See, someone gets it! I keep telling the police that, they just don't believe me!
Blekk scooches forward a bit and unleashes hell on the ratfolk. "Nobody hits Claptrap but me!"
Blekk moves up and drinks his mutagen, then quickly drinks an extract with his tail. His eyes bulge hugely as he does so, and he grimaces. "Oh god, that's so disgusting. Never tried this one before, holy crap. Tastes so bad...think I'm gonna...." He barfs all over the table next to him, and wipes his mouth sheepishly. "Oh geez, sorry...that wasn't what it was supposed to do." Then the barf coalesces into a swarm of spiders, and starts moving towards the ratfolk. Blekk blinks in surprise. "Huh. Okay then, guess that's an interesting result. Neato."
Who needs literacy when you know that the big red button fires the engines of your ship and this button over here on your rocket launcher makes the enemy go boom? Now I'm picturing goblin ships that have nothing but big red buttons in them. Sure, sometimes you just activate the windshield wipers, but at least everyone on the crew gets their own big red button to push.
Blekk snarls. "Oh, for...WHAT BE GOING ON HERE?!" he screeches at the newcomers.
Literally, he screeches. His voice cracks, really really badly. Blekk scratches the back of his head in embarrassment. "Okay then...Rav, guess you're up, buddy. Go for it."
Blekk looks between Rav and Palomia. "Well, I want to find him. Don't really know about where you guys came from, but my neighbors in the jungle included demon-possessed gorillas, a group of angry necromancers, and about five million jaguars. Against maybe fifty of us goblins. When one of us didn’t come back from gathering or hunting...we went back for him. Because if we didn’t find him, sometimes he found us. You ever have a girlfriend come back from dead and try to rip your brain out? Or have grandfather suddenly sprout demon wings and breathe fire all over grandma?” He sighs and looks away from Rav.. ”Dunno why I’m sayin this now. Guess because of yesterday, and I’m bad at apologizing. Guess we had a miscommunication and all, I dunno. But anyways. Like I was saying.” Blekk shakes his head, trying to get his thoughts in something resembling cohesive thought. ”Oh yeah-even when someone disappears, even if we know it’s just them getting dragged off by a jaguar, we go back for them. Because when you only have fifty or so other people you actually trust, you hang onto them.” He looks Rav in the eyes. ”There’s three goblins on this planet we know of. I’m one, you’re two. You really want to leave number three behind for the demon gorillas?” He heads out the door, calling back to the others. ”We can do the paperwork later. Let’s go find Biggun. This’ll be more exciting anyways, didn’t you guys know paperwork steals words from your head? You’re all crazy for reading it.”
Ah, gotcha. I guess I've just never seen it happen before, my bad. Thanks!
Well, apparently Nyarlathotep is a core deity now, so I'm guessing at least some of the spooky stuff of the Dark Tapestry is a bit more mainstream now.
Blekk goes over to the two fallen figures to see if they're still alive. "We should have maybe tried better to keep one of them alive...even though big guy over there did do his best to kill me."
"Anyone got rope? Or handcuffs? No judging if you do have handcuffs, we all have our weird quirks."
Well, wasn't the Viking/Mammoth Lord campaign I was really hoping for, but it still seems awesome. Guess I'm keeping my AP subscription for another 6 months...he said fully well knowing that he was keeping it pretty much no matter what.
Carina's eyes narrow at the bugbear. "Tell you what-you tell Scourge and you wake up without a hand in the morning. Put up a fight now, I take both hands. Go back to bed and leave us alone, big guy."
After reviewing the Bladesinger, I've decided that I'm no longer interested. I'm sorry, but that is by far the most overpowered class I have ever seen. Just a few things I thought I should mention for people who can't see the class writeup: Spoiler:
-You're a Wizard that gains bonus feats almost as much as a fighter does (and you qualify for all of the same ones that a fighter can get)
-You get ALL the skills as class skills, more or less. I believe you're missing Bluff, Disguise and Fly. That's about it. Doesn't say how many ranks you get per level, but you're an INT-based class. You outskill all dedicated skill monkeys. -You get what is essentially the Two-Weapon Fighting chain for free -You don't need to make Concentration checks after level 5 -You're essentially full BAB at level 6 with Song of Fury -Bladedance is Improved Uncanny Dodge-again, can be taken at level 6 -Bladesong is...ridiculous. You get your INT to AC as long as you're wielding a weapon that you were going to use already. Your casting stat. Also, you can wear armor without penalty already. Just light at first, but you get Medium for free at 9th. -Battlegrace lets you move and take a full-round attack. This is a mythic path ability (Fleet Charge) that even then, is only available a certain amount of times per day. This is unlimited use here. -You can add Divine spells to your spellbook. No level requirement, as long as you can actually cast it. Almost any divine spell, with a few token exclusions. Any. Divine. Spell. Hear that sound? It's the sound of this ability being broken by anyone who has ever played a caster. -At 7th level you no longer provoke Attacks of Opportunity while casting spells. Every spellcaster in the game would like to know how you managed to pull that off, because I cannot find a single ability that is even remotely similar to this. You put what would be an overpowered wizard capstone (level 20 ability) at level 7. -Why is a spellcaster getting a Fighter-specific ability? They get full Weapon Training. It's completely unnecessary. You're already at this point (level 8) basically untouchable and able to hit anything. It's such overkill. -Improved Sidestep is a four feat chain. That you get for free. -The capstone is insane. You get Weapon Mastery (Fighter capstone) BOTH sides of True Magus (Magus capstone) AND you can ignore immunities/resistances, for some reason. Which again, there isn't anything like this in Pathfinder. You can't just ignore all elemental resistances or immunities. The closest thing I can see is the Winter Witch's (PRESTIGE CLASS, not base class) 8th level ability Unearthly Cold. And even then, it merely changes cold damage to be half cold, half untyped. And that's just with 1 energy type, not all of them. This capstone is like...just absolute insanity. In short, you have somehow made a strictly better Wizard. Which I didn't think was possible, but there you go. It's basically a Wizard/Fighter/Magus triple gestalt class, and it's going to overshadow the whole party so much it's not even funny. My level 4 Mythic alchemist might be able to take on a level 1 Bladesinger. Might. I'm sorry if I offended anyone, but my god. This makes the Synthesist Summoner look like the Chained Rogue. Also, you forgot to put the Hit Dice in the document.
Carina nods at Sloog and follows him, gesturing for Gnaly and the others to follow.
"I can sneak real good, you overgrown housecat!" Blekk hisses back at Relas.
He looks through one of the peepholes.
A few days ago:
Blekk headed to the Battle Pits, rubbing his head. Ever since he’d gone through the portal, he had been plagued by enormous migraines. Even though he’d meant to just go and watch the fights-his head had seemed clearer the last time he was watching Biggun tear apart combatants-in his haze he went into the door meant for competitors. It wasn’t until a burly hand grabbed him and yanked him into a room that he realized that something was wrong. ”Where the hell d’ya think yer goin, little guy?! God, I swear you runts get smaller every year, and jeez you’re ugly! You know the rules, once you’re in your cell you don’t leave the Pits until you’re the last one standing.” Disoriented, Blekk looked up to see an enormous figure dressed in armor stride out of the room and slam the door. He tried the knob, but it was locked. Well crap. This...this not good. Blekk banged on the door, yelling for someone to let him out to no avail. That accomplished nothing except making his headache even worse, and he curled up on the floor, squeezing his eyes shut in a grimace of pain. He tried to take his mind off of the agony by working on another problem that had been bugging him since he had gone through the portal. To his perspective, he’d traveled a handful of feet between Garslit and here, but it seemed like he’d gone much, much further. He had been trying to figure out how to compress and expand space in a similar way, and the extract he was mixing now was his latest attempt at manipulating space. Eventually, a sound roused him and he looked up. A door at the opposite end of his cell had opened. He gingerly stepped outside, blinking in pain as his eyes adjusted to the bright light of the amphitheater he found himself in. Hoo boy, think I know where I am...this REALLY not good. Then what seemed like a solid wave of sound hit him-the crowd erupted into cheers as Blekk and five other people stepped out of their cells to form a ring, everyone facing each other. Blekk was the smallest being there, by far. ”WELCOME, LADIES AND GENTLEBEINGS, TO THE BRAWL!!! YOU KNOW THE RULES, LAST ONE ALIVE IS THE WINNER! WE-what the hell is that thing?” The announcer had just noticed Blekk, shading his eyes and looking like he was about to fall over at the slightest push. ”NEVER MIND THAT, GUESS THAT JUST MEANS BETTER ODDS FOR THE OTHER GUYS! NOW. LET’S. GET. STAAAAAAARTED!!!!!!” A gong rang out, and four of the other gladiators immediately charged at each other. The fifth advanced slowly on Blekk, smirking as he brandished his spear. ”Let’s give them a good show, eh? I’ll carve you up a bit, then wait for those idiots to stop fighting each other.” He stabbed out at Blekk, who somehow managed to grab the shaft of the spear and use the momentum to shunt himself backwards, slamming hard into the wall. Blekk looked at the fighter, and for the first time in ages, his headache vanished. Time seemed to slow down, and he seemed to hear a voice in the back of his head whispering Kick
Blekk cracked his neck and slapped his mutagen and an extract into his hands with his tail. ”Wait, what’s this? Looks like the little green dude somehow smuggled a few potions into the ring! Not strictly legal, of course, but once you’re in the Pit it really doesn’t matter. Wha-what is going on with him? Are those claws he’s growing? Wait, is this guy getting bigger? Huh, looks like today’s just full of surpris-OH MY GODS WHAT DID HE JUST DO TO TORGATH?! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD, HE’S DEAD! STOP DOING THAT TO HIM, THIS IS JUST HORRIFYING! Okay, it looks like the remaining two competitors from the center are noticing this, they’re coming to finish him off. Wait, greenie’s throwing something, wha-okay, where did the floor go? How did he make a hole that big?! WHY IS HE CLIMBING DOWN THERE, CAN ANYONE SEE WHAT’S GOING ON?” A cacophony of screams erupted from the pit, then silence. A few seconds later, the pit slowly rose, the floor stained red with only a few small lumps of meat and some broken weapons to indicate that any fighters had been there. In the middle, as red as his surroundings, was Blekk swigging from a glass bottle. He looked at his side, at a hole slowly closing up into a lumpy mass that seemed to move of its own accord. ”Huh. That’s weird.” the goblin remarked to himself. He looked up at the announcer. ”Uh, where do I leave? Oh, door right there, got it.” He walked out of the arena, leaving the crowd utterly silent in shocked horror. OOC notes: It’s been a while since Blekk did much of anything, and I saw that Zed had me going to the Battle Pits with Biggun. This gave a decent excuse for me to tease a few new toys I’ve gotten, even if they’re slightly out of order level-wise. It also explains why Blekk’s been so uncharacteristically quiet lately-between him trying to figure out the portal (I figured that the whole dimension-warping aspect of the portal would tie in well with the Dimensional Excavator) and enormous migraines caused by him basically losing his mind (all the drugs and stuff he’s been taking have been awful for his brain, and it’s only a matter of time before that psychosis manifests itself. Like, probably around level 8 or so...). Also, towards the end he gets his tumor familiar. Still working out exactly what I want the familiar to be, but right now I’m leaning towards an Ioun Wyrd. Even though it’s a construct, it can be used as a familiar, and I’ve already got a few ideas in mind for shenanigans with it. I thought that a magical/tech familiar could be pretty cool for this setting. Zed, let me know if you don’t want me taking that kind of familiar and I’m happy to change what creature it is.
"Dunno, Rav-they could be like my friend Slinky. She had spine turned into rubber. Made her really bendy. One time we pushed her down stairs...fell down in a really funny way, end over end."
Blekk gasps at Palomia. "That's it. When we get out of here, finding biggest bar of soap possible and washing your mouth out with it, Palo."
Blekk shrugs. "Sure, it's bad. Could be worse. Other Brainer could've said that someone needed to operate gate from this side and one of us would have to sacrifice themselves so that the others could get through. Then we have to have long conversation on ethics and about who does it. Probably would be Solie, she's been awful quiet lately." He glares at BR-N3R. "Don't even think about joking about it. Will eat you."
Rom shivers. "Oof. Mara, don't let me make Nasrin mad. She's scary as hell." He surveys the crowd. "Hey, Nasrin? Maybe we should head somewhere else, before this starts getting out of hand."
"Who Brainer? Don't see anyone here named Brainer. Am I Brainer? Must be, I'm smartest guy in room. I'm Brainer...I'm Brainer..." Being a goblin, Blekk quickly forgets the whole exchange. But the name 'Brainer' slides deep, deep into his subconscious, into the part that enjoyed the feeling he got while he was tearing apart the klaven, that brutal, animalistic part of us that we all know we have, but nobody really likes to think about...and it waits. The name Brainer waits for another day.
Covered in guts and gore, Blekk grins at Relas. "Put your paw up, Relas." He smacks the paw when he does. "This called high five. Nice job. Rav, you okay, bud? You almost pulled a Biggun there."
Blekk scurries back into the room. "Guys, guys! Did dance, went PERFECTLY. Bhagras all imitate me, think I got through and explained everything perfect. Sorry I doubted you Glob, power of dance really...powerful. Oh, Biggun died again? Oof. Been a rough day for him." He glances back over his shoulder, realizing that he never actually checked to see if the Bhagra were following him. A glimmer of doubt crosses his face-is it possible that he's not as amazing as he thought he was? Spoiler: Nah. He's still pretty great.
Blekk swallows nervously and murmurs to himself. "Okay. Like they said. All in hips." He cracks his neck and shakes himself out to limber up a bit. And Blekk dances. He tells of his journey so far-the long nights spent in the jungle mixing all sorts of alchemical concoctions, his terror upon waking up in a strange location, his joy at finding a group of people who actually seemed to like him. He relays the heroic story of his group's battle on the upper levels, and attempts to convey the situation at hand in a way that seems urgent, but not too pushy. At some points he gets kind of off track, but manages to mostly stay on topic. He eventually ends the dance, a single tear falling down his face as he stands in the final pose, hoping they got at least the general idea of what he was trying to say.
Blekk shrugs to himself. "Sure they'll be fine, seem like capable group. Unless it's something like a dragon. Or a mimic. Then they might die." He continues on down the shaft.
A chorus of screams and howls erupts behind Blekk. "Seriously? Haven't even left room yet and you're already all dying. Some people...so rude."
"Agreed, think gate sounds like way out. Biggun! Onward, noble steed!"
"Those guys were dead, didn't seem to stop them."
It was mostly for RP, but I wanted a Shawl of Shadowy Disguise as part of my vigilante identity-the idea was to have her be this dark, unidentifiable figure walking around shooting people. Fine with me, the more the merrier! By the way-if I take the safe house thing, and say that the building it's in is next to wherever someone else's is, could we like...eventually merge them into a mega-safehouse? I know Blackjack has his in a bar/gambling house, and I was thinking of having Lauren be the proprietor of a smallish alchemy shop nearby. Since the safehouse grows as we level, we could eventually meet up. And how awkward would it be if while I'm knocking out the back wall, I punch right through into Blackjack's area? Think she's more or less done, just gotta get the mundane backpack/gear stuff situated. Also she needs a superhero name. Was thinking "Gloomstalker", but I might save that for when she gets the shawl.
Somewhere deep in the jungles of the Mwangi Expanse Blekk rubbed his eyes, annoyed. The sun had barely set over the crest of Mount Pointyrock in the distance, and already he was squinting at his notes. Cursing his lack of night vision, he rummaged around his backpack for a moment for his ioun torch. An explosion in his hut a few months ago had left him blinded for a few days, and even afterwards he couldn’t see well in the dark anymore. After playing with the small stone for a few moments, he let it float around his head and returned to his brew stand. He’d been working on this potion for nearly two hours, and all Blekk wanted to do was finish it and go to bed. He took another sip of the strange, black liquid the traveling salesman had called “coffee” and started pouring the potion into a spare glass phial. Inspecting it, he nodded happily-the potion was good. He drew a small picture on the phial of a goblin smiling, to show that if a wounded person drank it, it’d make him better. As he was leaving the potion-makers’ hut to go home, a small goblin ran up to him. ”Blekk, Blekk! Chief want see you, say very important! Go now, yes?” This was the last thing Blekk wanted to do at this time of night, but when the chief said something, you did it. Usually. There was always one or two goblins in the tribe who disobeyed orders. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes because the Flying Circle People had come and taken them and turned their ears into other, smaller goblin heads. Blekk shook his head sadly, remembering his old friend Wort. Some goblins had all the luck. Blekk made his way to the center of the village, where the chief’s house stood. Making his way into the hut, he sat in the single chair in the middle of the seemingly empty room. He didn’t have to wait long, as a patch of mold on the wall started moving, eventually forming into the shape of a goblin face. ”Hi, Daddy. What you want?” asked Blekk, trying to not sound as irritated as he really was. His Ugliness Blurk, Chief of the Ogawdwaddahelizzat Tribe, spoke. ”Son...me not feeling so good. Think gonna die soon. You ready for that? You don’t look too nasty, what taking so long? Thought you say you gonna make yourself into monster. But still look like my son. Unless you saying that monster inside you all along?” Blekk sighed. So it this conversation again, he thought. ”Daddy. Blekk been tellin’ you for ages now. This takes long time. Look! Me have tail now!” He waved his new tail in the air, hoping it’d be enough to sate his father for now. The two of them had run this tribe for nearly a decade now, after the Circle People had made Blurk into what he was now. Blekk was the idea man, while Blurk was the one who made it all happen. But now that Blurk was dying, Blekk had been trying to make himself into a worthy successor to his father, knowing that anyone else who took over (aka, the ugliest person in the tribe) was more than likely to utterly destroy the entire tribe, in typical goblin fashion. Blurk’s face contorted in exasperation, most likely about to say something about how a simple tail wasn’t enough, how Plurb the toad farmer had six of them and blah blah blah, when a commotion from outside the hut interrupted them. The younger goblin who had fetched Blekk appeared at the door, looking both terrified and excited. ”CIRCLE PEOPLE! FLYING CIRCLE PEOPLE!” Blekk and Blurk shared a glance. ”Go, Blekk.” Nodding, Blekk jumped out of his chair and sprinted to the window. Climbing onto the windowsill, he looked back momentarily at his father on a whim. “Love you, daddy. Stay ok till Blekk gets back, kay?” With that, he scrambled madly up the side of the house, onto the roof. He could see the flying circles up in the sky, flying low over the treetops. Blekk jumped up and down, trying desperately to attract the attention of one of them. ”HERE! HERE! TAKE BLEKK TAKE BLE-WHOAAAAAAA!” He slipped close to the edge. He screamed as he fell off the roof, hands and tail scrabbling wildly at thin air. The ground rushed at him in a blur, and then all he saw was a flash of light and then blackness.
Don't you worry, Steef's having the time of his life being a nasty-ass hobo with his buddy Moose, who's very much living up to his name, at least size-wise. He actually turned out to be one hell of a deterrent to muggers, so now Steef actually has some money to his name. Not much, but enough to get him back home to his family, who was unpleasantly surprised to find out he was still alive and kicking. Happy endings for everyone!
Steef looks around, making sure to stay far, FAR away from the nest.
If you first look at Heldren, you would be excused for thinking that you were in one of a hundred other villages in Golarion. Like many other locales in the world, it's a small village by a forest. There really isn't much going on around it, and most of the residents like it that way. However, today the place bustles with excitement...and apprehension. The sleepy village 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, wintery 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.
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