"Yes, yes good sir. Twenty cold iron tipped crossbow bolts. I've heard that the winter fey are so afraid of cold iron, one look at a bundle of them in my grasp and they will be running all the way back to Irrisen." The wizard nods confidently to the smith, smiling absently.
"Friends! I have a new pearl! A new piece of bling! Look how fancy it looks! Hmmmm...I mean, I have a new device to increase my spellcasting capability."
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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight makes his way to Tassaraea the Alchemist, only to see Aoife leaving. "Eefie!! What you go to alchemist for? Me make you anything you need!"
He makes his way into the shop. Ice Melts Quietly in Sunight looks a little bashful when he ask, "Miss Alchemy-lady? Can me talk to you? Me want this to be just between me and you, though. You know?
"Boss is a great Longshanks, but he no good with Alchemy. He try, and make the basic stuff, you know... cure-all drinks, paint remover, love potions... though they all taste the same to me, but he say the hicks no know the difference if you add a little beet juice to one, a little carrot juice to the other.
"Anyway, Miss Boss-lady, me think you can help Ice Melts Quietly in Sunight a lot. You know how to make liquid fire, me can do that too! But, what about making drink to make you bigger? Or drink to cure wounds? Me know those, but me think you might know other drinks. Maybe we trade formula, or maybe me work for you and you teach me some. Me also wanna borrow your lab, some, and make some stuff before Ice Melts Quietly in Sunight and Boss and Eefie and Ishy and ... well you know who we are... but before we go to woods to find evil winter creatures me think me need lots of good liquid fire and stuff.
"Me also think me need something to make me carry stuff better... me heard of something called 'cords of mule' or something... maybe if you like Ice Melts Quietly in Sunight, you tell me where me can buy? Maybe even help me buy, 'cause longshanks no always like Ice Melts Quietly in Sunight, 'cause they think he 'nasty little goblin go away!'"
He gives Tassaraea his friendliest goblins smile, and hopes she agrees to help him.
Ishbaad steps into the smithy, taking his time to look around.
"Yes, I am glad to that we have been able to provide you with some extra business. I am concerned for your long term prospects, however. I am guessing Farmer Dansby was a most excellent customer, gods rest his soul. Anyways, to business. This longspear is magnificent, you truly are an expert craftsman. This inscription..."
Sanctus Custos
"You have outdone yourself, sir. I think this is all I need. Well, now that I think about it, I overheard Aoife asking about a bow. I should think it would do well to give her some competition, to help jump start the learning curve. Could you acquire one for me as well? Something suited to my extra strength would be ideal."
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight makes his way to Tassaraea the Alchemist, only to see Aoife leaving. "Eefie!! What you go to alchemist for? Me make you anything you need!"
Aoife jumps back with a start at seeing the little blue goblin standing before her as she tries to leave the store. "Icy!" her voice seems high pitched and a bit panicked, even her cheeks flush a darker shade of red.
"I... umm... well..." she struggles for the words. "Why did I see the alchemist? Me... see the alchemist?" Her head looks around, in search of something that might give her a plausible explanation without her having to tell her friend the truth and spoil the surprise.
"I... I... I..." she comes up with quite possibly the worst excuse ever. "... I didn't."
"I was looking for you, actually," she smiles awkwardly.
"Oh, I told you I didn't want to know..." Isker replies, clearly uncomfortably knowing what danger the child gets herself in, "Erm... best of luck, kid."
Tessaraea hands over some blue paint, which looks a lot darker than Aoife would expect, as well as a sponge and larger jar of some clear substance, "This should change your skin tone to the right blue," she says, smiling at Aoife, "But it's more of an in than a paint, so be careful to only use the applicator. It will wear of in a few days, but if you need it to wear of quicker than that, you will need to use this solvent here."
Tessaraea rummages around and produces some rubber pointed ears and a small vial of white liquid, "This glue should get those ear tips on for you. Just a dab, and they'll tear off easily enough. The glue is a special glue of mine, and just a bit of water and soap is all you need to get that off."
The elven alchemist smiles as Aoife takes the items, "Oh, and they are free of charge. Least I can do for the aid you are providing the town."
Old Mother Theodora smiles lasciviously at Coramus, who stands in her doorway with twenty freshly-made crossbow bolts. "Oh, yes, my dear, handsome man. I can make such a pearl for you. Could have it ready tomorrow even. Can I interest you in a 'friendly' discount, if you know what I mean?" The way she drapes herself in the doorway leaves no doubt as to exactly what she means.
"You are more than welcome to use my alchemical lab while I'm at home, my dear goblin," Tessaraea looks down only a little warily upon Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, "But I am very possessive about my equipment - and my formula list - and I'm afraid I won't be able to leave you to your own devices. I'm happy to trade you a one for one trade on any formulae of equal complexity, or two simple for one complex. More than that, and it just wouldn't be fair, now would it?" She grins mischievously but will agree to no cheaper price than that.
"Thank you for your compliments, sir, I pride myself on my work - and I can get a bow for you, of course," replies Isker, "You will have to be there yourself if you want to be sure to get one of the right strength, but I fancy I can size people up appropriately if you're too busy when those merchants arrive."
Isker looks as though he might be going to leave it at that, but just before Ishbaad leaves, he adds, "Do look after that young charge of yours, sir. She may be a capable warrior and seem older than she is, but there ain't nothing a child needs more than a childhood."
Coramus gulps audibly, swallowing whatever revulsion he might have...the woman was talking a discount, here! Shoving the thin sliver of pride he possessed to the side, he smiles in what he hopes is a charming manner. "I always love making new friends. Indeed...I hope you have some oysters."
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"Oh! Me here! What you want? Me make you more liquid fire? Drink to make you big? Me no can make drink to make you stronger, yet. Me learn that soon, me think. Why you so red?"
"Me trade with you. Me know lots of good drinks... you know neat ones too! Do you know who can make Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight cords to let me carry more stuff?"
Knowing that his martial prowess is dependent on having weapons that he can actually wield well, even though he really likes swinging a torch, he will make his way over to Isker.
Making his way into the smithy, fully expecting the smith to shoo him out, he says, "Mister Isker, me need your help. Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight no have good weapon to fight with, and Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight runs out of bombs too fast, so me need a good weapon to make bad things dead with. Me think you make good weapons, so me want to buy something that help Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight make enemies of Heldred dead fast, so we all be safe. What you got? You got spear? Me like spear. Me also hear 'star of mourning' really good for making bad guys dead. You got nice one of those? Oh, me also need bullets for sling me find... rocks no hit too hard. "
"Oh, I have better than oysters!" Old Mother Theodora exclaims as she opens the door wide. She rummages around in a draw before triumphantly revealing a small vial. "Extract of Rhino from good old Tess Willowbark!" she exclaims.
"I'm not about to choose a weapon for you, good sir," says Isker, almost managing to say the 'sir' without any condescending inflection, "But I can make you a small-sized spear or morningstar. In fact, I'll wager the caravan from Zimar will have more than a few of such items for you to choose form. I'll make sure to help you select the quality goods." And supervise you and your light fingers at the same time.
Isker didn't know Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight personally, but clearly he wasn't the first goblin to cross Isker's path.
"Old Mother Theodora should be able to make you up some of those," Tessaraea suggests helpfully, "She's the one I go to when I need any magical oddities."
As Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight approaches Old Mother Theodora's....
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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight contemplates copying the additional formula he'd like into his book, but realizes that it would take far too long... he isn't that lucky. Still, he keeps looking over at the formula book while he works. Pondering. Wondering if he has time...
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight spends a half day, each day, at Tessaraea's alchemical lab. He makes two potions each day (most he can do, as he can only memorize two spells per day). On the first day, he makes one potion of endure elements and one potion of enlarge person. He will do the same each day, unless he is asked to make something different.
Finally, overcome by curiosity and guilt, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight yells out, He stops working on the potion he's been brewing and walks outside to where Tessaraea and Argus are standing, carrying Tessaraea's formula book.
Tears in his eyes, he sobs, "Me no want to steal your extracts, but me no can hold out any longer. Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight is a good goblin. Really me is! Please, hide book so me no steal from you... *sniff* Me go cut switch now so Boss Lady can give bad goblin punishment. Me work hard then... me make you good things. Safe things, like alchemist's friends so nice peoples heads no feel like breaking when they are naughty night before. Me sooooooo sorry me wanted to look in your book!" He bursts into tears, almost dropping her book.
"Boss say Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight must always be good goblin... *sniff*... not nasty goblin like most are. Me try to be good... but it so !"
Tessaraea can hardly contain her laughter, "Oh, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight! I am sorry to have caused you such frustration. I was going to let you look at those last formulae at the end of your time here anyway - as a reward for if you treated my equipment well. But, I can see that it is weighing on you and that you are indeed a good goblin. Please, do feel free to copy out the remaining formulae. I'm sure you'll reciprocate by saving the town and ending the winter that plagues us."
Just then, he hears his 'Boss's' voice, loud and firm, "Be still for a damn minute, woman. I can hardly aim this thing anymore, and half the time it misfires. There, be still...that's it...BULLSEYE!" This is followed by another scream from the old woman.
"This is a good deal of money indeed" Kuragin is counting the coins from their reward and sold loot. Being a Jadwiga, he was used to some amount of fortunes, and this vagrant life hit was strange, and he was not fond of the poverty that came along.
No point in settling in. Who knows what Elvanna has in mind for these lands? Maybe it's better spend the money in preparation for another expedition. Kuragin gathers his coins, and stands up, tapping his coin purse a few times just to make sure it's real. He remembers there was a wise woman in the village, maybe she was familiar of the witching ways, and had some equipment to sell.
His mind wandering, thinking of the events of late, Kuragin arrives to Theodora's hut. Knocking is not in his habits, so the Jadwiga just opens the door and steps in. What is this noise? Someone screaming... like cat being butchered. "Hello, anyone here? I would like to buy a wand of magic. If you have trouble with killing cats, I..." Kuragin moves closer to the sound, which seems to come from the room in the back. Opening the door reveals the source of the sounds, and leaves him hanging in middle of his sentence. "...uh ... never mind... " Quickly the man slams the door back shut, and escapes the hut with hasted pace. Suddenly, he lost his interest of buying wands from this woman, seeing that Coramus was keeping her busy with the wand of his own.
Kuragin walks straight to the tavern, orders three mugs of vodka, and sits down to empty those mugs. "What is wrong with these southern people... Maybe it's best to let winter come and cool them off"
Wandering around town after the most traumatizing experience of his life, Kuragin eventually meanders into the general store. Vivialla Steranus eyes him suspiciously like she does all her guests (though not as suspiciously as she did Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight).
"What is it you want?" she asks, taking down the items that Kuragin requires, "Huh. Just so happens I have me such a wand sitting on the shelves. Some adventurers off-loaded it, and some other choice items I've already sold, in exchange for avery special suit of magical armor I received a while back. Old Mother Theodora reckons it has eighteen charges left in it, if you want it."
Over the next few days, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight spends most of his time at the Willowbark Apothecary, tirelessly brewing a single vial of alchemist's fire.
With the exceptional help received from Tessaraea Willowbark and her laboratory, the frost goblin has the brew completed in three short days.
Three days after their triumphant return to Heldren and the companions have started to settle in. While it is no inn, the taproom floor of the Silver Stoat is made comfortable for them - provided they wake before the breakfast customers arrive. Even over such a short period of time, however, the weather grows colder. The villagers become increasingly worried about their winter stores. At this rate, the summer harvests will be barely enough to last until mid-autumn.
The weapons merchants from Zimar arrived on time and had a vast array of weapons to sell, and were more than happy to pick up all the salvaged equipment the companions brought back from their winter foray.
Madame Enfer the Great arrives as predicted on the morning of the third day. She sets up a tent on the outskirts of town. Isker's daughter Xanthippe comes into the taproom of the Silver Stoat shortly afterwards.
"Huh, she's refusing to see anyone," she says to all who will listen, "At least, until they have been to see her." Xanthippe points to the companions.
Never ones to ignore their destiny, the adventurers approach the tent. Though it has only been there for a few short hours, it already smells like a Riddileport brothel. As the six friends ponder how to knock on a tent, a strongly accented Varisian woman calls out from within, "Do come in, mes amis. I have been waiting for you."
After walking through a maze of silk wall hangings, the adventurers find a remarkably young and beautiful woman with jet black hair and alabaster skin at a table in the center of the tent, hunched over a deck of cards. The more wordly among the friends recognizes it as a harrow deck.
"Sit down, heroes of the Winter Wood - and listen to your harrowing. In this special group harrowing, I will select three central cards and then each of you removes a card from the deck and places it however you feel best around those central cards." She shuffles the deck and removes a card, placing it face down in the center of the table, followed by two others. Everyone else does as told, too curious to object.
"Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's card first. Interesting, The Hidden Truth. In many harrowings, this card can represent knowledge and understanding of a higher truth within yourself. However, this card is inverted which is also a warning. This suggests that discovery of your true self may be fraught with peril, or that this understanding may not be to your liking.
"Next is Aoife's card. Hmm, the Queen Mother. This card also relates to knowledge. The fact that you placed it so close to Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's card is a clear sign that your destinies are intertwined. The Queen Mother can represent either that the person for whom I am doing is powerless herself, or is a champion of the downtrodden. I believe, in this case, it is a little of both. I cannot ignore the lost component, either. Again, it is a case of being lost yourself and of finding the lost. Your card is perfectly aligned with the centermost card, which is interesting. It means that your quest will have a key role to play in the overall unfolding of events, and also that a monarch of some kind will be involved in what is to come.
"Ishbaad, a card that represents endurance and a shield that protects others: the Desert. Most Oreads are drawn to the Mountain Man, strange that you have bucked this trend. The Desert shows that you must endure great hardships in the environment you find yourself in. Sometimes this is literal, sometimes figurative - but most often both. For where do we go in life that hardship does not exist? The sphinx on this desert card represents salvation, though whether you are the source of the salvation or require it yourself is unclear.
"Kuragin's card now," Madame Enfer recoils, "You poor man. It is the Crow, upright and not inverted. Murder, death and violence will plague you, followed by a great loss of that which you love. As ever, though, a glimmer of hope exists. You laid your card midway between all of your companions cards, which means that this fate still lies in the balance. Choose wisely, mon ami, or your doom will overtake you.
"Coramus next. The Uprising, inverted. Strange. This card is so rarely laid out anything less than upright. Overwhelming power will be in your future, Coramus, but it has also been in your past. The inversion suggests another plane, but not as the origin but the destination,"[/b she scratches her head, her earlier certainty replaced with doubt, [b]"As I said, very strange. Only time will tell the truth behind these readings.
"Last we have Jorvik. The Eclipse, something straightforward at last. You, mon ami, will face a loss of faith or purpose in the near future. You must believe in yourself - your true self - if you are to overcome."
At last, Madame Enfer places her hand on the middle central card. With much drama, she overturns it. A bedraggled man in torn clothing kneels on the parched earth, a smile on his face. "The Survivor. This middle card represents your near future. You will meet someone who has encountered some form of terrible trial or ordeal. They perhaps will have had friends or companions, but no more. They are alone. The next cards may tell us more.
"The card on the left is The Forge. This shows strength through diversity, a meeting of many to overcome the odds that singly you could not meet. This is good for your group. As diverse a gathering I have rarely seen, and that this card matches your situation so well says that the fates are aligned with your mission. It is a blessing. It is to the central reading, though, so this can also mean a more literal blessing, and it is to the left, making it likely to be one associated to the survivor.
"Alors, here we see The Mountain Man. It seems that the card is drawn to you for a change," the fortune teller favors Ishbaad with a wry smirk, "This card represents an encounter with great power outside of your control. To the right of the survivor this can only mean that you must ally yourself with this power, whatever it might be, if you are to succeed in your mission."
Madame Enfer smiles as she looks around the table at the gathered heroes, "These cards represent just one possible fate. As ever, the future is clouded by changes wrought in the present. I warn you not to fight against your fate. In acceptance, you will find a way to shape the mists of the future to your will. Now, I'm sure you have questions... but you have little time. If you are to find the survivor in time, I predict that you must leave on the morrow and no later. Be mindful of the crows, for they do not just plague the Irriseni's path - your fates are intertwined."
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Upon hearing Tessaraea's response, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's tears get even stronger. "*Sniff* Thank you, nice Boss Lady. Me prove you right, me is good goblin, and me do great things. Me bring you back new formula if me can." He is overwhelmed, for she was the only person, other than Coramus, that has trusted him. Coramus taught him that his spellbooks are private, even though they work together. Of course, that lesson took place after Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight read Coramus's spellbook, so perhaps he has learned..
Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight hears the screams coming from Theodora's house, and hears Coramus's emphatic statements. Concerned that his "boss" and the old woman are under attack, he pulls out one of his bombs, and runs into the house!
Old Lady Theodora screams in a different way when she sees the little blue goblin burst through the door!
Old Mother Theodora tries to smooth out her ruffled hair. It just refuses to sit down for some reason. "So... Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, is it?" she asks, more concerned with her disobedient hair than the blue goblin, "What can I do for you? Muleback cords, did you say? Well, I think I know how those are made. I'll have to do a bit of research, of course. Shouldn't take more than a day or two. Planning on carrying that dear man Coramus's bags, are you?"
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Before the woman has the chance to reply, "You no worry about Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, Ma'am. Me know Boss still love me... and me have new friend Eefie! She same size as Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, and make as many bad guys as Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight dead! Me like her! She fun!"
He thinks about it a bit more, and goes digging into his pack. He pulls out a variety of treasures (some of the stuff he found as "additional treasures"). He then takes some of the wire, and some other little things, and twists it around, making a small pendent for Theodora.
"Me know this isn't much, but me happy for both of you! Me sorry me surprise you... me thought something was wrong!" He leans in to her, hoping she leans down to hear, "Me think it good you play giggly-poke with Boss! Very happy!"
The wizard twirls around at the interruption, a flash of his old wrinkled manhood caught before the robes swoosh down to provide him with some decency. "Hey, old boy. No need for bombs! We just had one go off, heh heh. I already took care of the problem, so to speak. Let us be off while the lady gets herself decent, hmmmmm?"
Suddenly, her face grows severe, "But I warn you, the things you dabble in are more dangerous than you seem to be aware. It may at times be 'fun' as you say, but you are taking a little girl far away from safety. If harm comes to her, all five of you foolhardy 'adventurers' will suffer for it.
"Now," she says, her voice pleasant once more as she produces a bowl of cubed sugar, "Do you take one lump, or two?"
The child observers Madame Enfer with mixture of both awe and fright. Each time a card is flipped and laid bare for them, Aoife's heart reaches a flurrying crescendo and causes the pounding within her ears to nearly blot out the soothsayer's words. Her eyes continually dart from card to card, but always circling back to fall upon the Queen Mother.
Casting a sidelong glance, the child beholds the blue skinned goblin and is beyond overjoyed to have her own fate interwoven with that of her friend. Deep down, she cannot clearly define for herself what this card, and prophecy, might mean for her, but she is comforted that she will not be alone.
The words of Madame Enfer seem to perfectly match her own feelings, and this realization sends of twinge of unease propagating up her spine and radiating outward to the tips of her limbs. Suppressing a shiver, Aoife knows that she feels powerless compared to her friends, who all seem so unstoppable and impenetrable, especially Uncle Ishy. This thought coalesces further into a terrifying realization that Aoife is keenly afraid of letting them down and being burden upon the others.
Lost, she hears the fortuneteller say. That is true, Aoife thinks to herself, questioning how she ever hoped to find her father in a world so endless, deadly, and utterly incomprehensible. Where good people can die and evil may flourish.
But as Madame Enfer continues to speak, Aoife begins to understand there are two diametrically opposed meanings which could come to pass. Perhaps, she is meant, destined even, to be among this gathering of heroes and that her own searches and struggles will play a key role in the events which continue to unfold around them. If she could somehow maintain the strength and drive to keep up with the others, perhaps, she dares to hope, what she has been searching for will be at the end of this journey.
"Thank you, Madame Enfer, for the gift," Aoife speaks up with the delicate voice of a frightened mouse. "You have given me hope. Her lips part to form a smile while her large, luminous eyes well with happiness.
"How do we know if these things will pass?" she asks. "Or if fate has changed and hidden our destinies?
"How do we know if we all have become... un-intertwined?" the child voices her true fear.
Ishbaad listens to his fortune with some feigned interest.
I trust mi'lady Iomedae with my future, and will vanquish the fear-mongers on my path until I get there.
He smiles politely, nodding with some curiosity as she describes the sphinx and elaborates ever so vaguely about salvation.
I know I am at peace with myself, and with whatever may happen in our search for Aoife's father. The salvation must be for someone else. But who? Could this powerful being be the tragic hero, who's soul is in need of rescue? Bah... what am I doing?
He shakes his head, realizing he had already unintentionally indulged the soothsayer's predictions.
I cannot discount what she said about Aoife, and her search for the lost. Perhaps she heard that we were looking for her father? I would be a fool to doubt that some would have powers of divination, but there are so many flim flams out there...
"Thank you for your time, and insight, Madame Enfer. It was, most revealing. How long will you be in town?"
Oh don't be jealous Jewel, I'm just asking the question. Besides, we said until death do us part. I know... It wasn't your fault. Someday I might just accept that it wasn't mine either.
"Hmmmmm...very odd. I was under the impression I already possessed overwhelming power. Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, have you been fibbing again?" The wizard takes a pensive pose, "Another plane? I had hoped not to die for another few decades, at least. Are you sure?"
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Ishbaad wanders towards the edge of town, towards the encroaching snows. Aoife follows, as requested by her uncle ishy.
He stares into the distance for a moment, before abruptly breaking the silence.
"We won't find your father here." He pauses. "I knew it was a longshot, but I allowed myself to hope that this would be a quick trip."
He traces some half circle patterns in the snows with his feet as he gathers his thoughts.
"I believe whatever is causing this snow is connected to what your father was investigating. So if we keep seeking answers for what is happening here, I believe with all my heart that eventually they will lead us to him. I am finally accepting that may take much more time than I had hoped."
Ishbaad turns to face the girl, crouching down to bring his face closer to eye level with her. "I am sorry your father is not here. I am a poor substitute, but know that I will do everything I can to stand in his place, until we find him."
Turning away again and standing up, he continues. "Back there, you asked how we know those things will come to pass, or if fate has changed?" Thoughts race through his mind about the con artists he has seen in his time, and the one that even received the judgement of Iomedae.
Enough of her innocence has been stolen... She doesn't need this taken away as well. Especially if I have no proof that the woman is not genuine.
"We won't know. It is not our place. We are small, and the gods are big. Who are we to question them? All that is for us to do is to fight. Fight for what we love, fight for what is right. Fight for our friends and family. Fight for the good that is in all of us, and oppose those who would use fear to control those they deem weak. Do not worry about the fates and their decisions. For if you give all that you have to give in service to that cause, which is bigger than you? Then nothing, my dear, can stop you. Not even the fates." He favors Aoife with a smile, and ruffles her hair again, knocking some of the snowflakes from the edges.
Taking a slow turn, he studies the horizon, and the creeping storm.
"It will get much harder, before we see the end of our road. Many people worry that you are not ready, and that I am foolish to endanger the life of a child. Perhaps they are right. But then again, how many of them can say they have wrestled an alligator into submission?" He winks and smiles once again before turning back towards the town, and to one last night's rest before setting out again.
"Oh, ma petite fille," Madame Enfer says sadly as she places a warm, comforting hand on Aoife's cheek, making her feel all at once again like the girl she is, "There is always hope. Toujours de l'espoir, as we say. You should not need a fortune teller like me to inform you of this. Always look for hope - and in that search alone, you will find it."
The Varisian woman looks over the table to Aoife as the girl asks her other questions, the deep blue eyes of Madame Enfer showing wisdom far beyond her years, "You ask questions that those in my profession sometimes never answer in all their lives. Let me tell you something that I have learned: It does not matter what anyone tells you, it only matters what you believe yourself. If you think something has come to pass, then by all means do put it behind you. If you believe you have become disentangled - then either delight in it, or seek to fix it."
Madame Enfer turns her piercing gaze to Ishbaad and he is struck once more by her youthful beauty - she is so full of life. "I will be in town for as long as people keep coming to see me. I often stay a few days, but rarely longer than a week. After tomorrow, however, our paths will never cross again."
As Coramus asks 'are you sure', Madame Enfer lets out a deep, genuine laugh, "My friend, je suis désolée, I do not mean to make little of your question. 'Am I sure'? Never. That is one of life's great gifts: self-determination. As for the meaning in the cards, the inverted uprising is not of this world. That usually speaks of the planes. However, there are other ways to leave this world. The Numerians knew of them, and others will discover what that ancient civilization has to teach - and soon."
Madame Enfer stands, revealing a shapely but slender body that occasionally presents its form alluringly against the silks she has draped upon herself. She smiles at the gathered companions, "I sense I have customers arriving. Is there anything else?"
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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight is completely mesmerized by the harrowing. He listens quietly (mostly) to what is said, ooing and awing at the (mostly) appropriate moments.
When she is done talking, he grabs for the card that was stated as being "his". "This no look like Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, but me like peril. It fun! Boss say me much smarter and much deeper than I look on the outside, but me not sure about that. Me just know me is different than other goblins. Me good goblin!
"Eefie, me glad we is 'intertwined'! You no worry... Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight will protect you!" He stands up, giving a "superhero" pose.
"I was under the impression I already possessed overwhelming power. Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, have you been fibbing again?"[/quote
"Boss... me go with you if you go to different plane, right? Me want to see Boss with great power. You powerful now, but you scared to use power. Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight not scared, so me help you not be scared, too. You tell me to not be scared, so me not be scared. Now, you not be scared, too!"
Kuragin listens through the grim fortune telling, feeling cold sweat in his hands. "Bah, stupid southern soothsayer." the man grumbles outside the tent. "What she knows of magic and threads of fate. Just a cheap fraud happy to part fools of their pennies" his shaking voice just doesn't sound very convincing, even to himself.
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Alone for the first time in forever. Blessed stillness. Sweet silence. Darkness creeping, enveloping. Jorvik calms his breathing, eyes open to the darkness in front of him, he lets his mind wander. He sees the river, and the stag. He let's himself feel the pain of the majestic creature's antlers piercing his breast. He can feel his flesh tear, feel the warm life blood escape his body, remember the chill of the snow as his body heat melts it.
He remembers the small fey, disappearing, reappearing. he remembers the iced over river, and can fell the resistance of his hammer striking flesh, hearing the crunch of bone, the grunts of pain.
He remembers the smell of the burned timbers, the chaos of the scrambling foes, the appearance of the ice yeti, the feel of arrows puncturing his thigh, the numbness of his muscles.
His breathing slow and steady, he picks up the flint and strikes a spark. The lantern springs to life, throwing light to the far ends of his small quarters. His eyes blink rapidly, attempting to adjust to the light. He sees rectangular colored shapes flit across his vision, as the blank paper comes into view.
He dips a sharpened end of the quill into the viscous ink, puncturing the stiffened crust. Tapping the quill on the side of the inkwell, he begins to scratch the quill over the sheep's parchment, slowly at first. Carefully forming the letters, he settles into a rhythm.
Before he knows it, he spreads sand over, and rubs his blotter over the filled page, and grabs another.
Dip - tap - scratch - scratch - scratch - dip - tap - scratch
The ink runs, out, the quill dulls, and the light flickers as it consumes all the oil.
The dark room is cast in ever lightening shadows as the sun rises outside.
Bleary eyed, he runs them as they begin to gently water. Shuffling the papers, he looks at the first one he has written:
As the snow fluttered to the ground in the warm southlands, a youth strode up to the most motley group imaginable. A goblin, blue and spry, an Oread stiff and unyielding, a child, sad and strong, an aged human, gregarious and broken, a Jadwiga, noble and afraid. Here he stood, a creature from both worlds, but neither, as alien as the snow that lightly covered his long hair, and froze the tips of his pointy ears.
And so it began, the adventures of ....
Jorvik quickly follows his Jadwiga companion outside.
He slaps Kuragin on the shoulder. "Let not the words of the uninformed deter you, my friends. We both know that is coins that speak to that one, and no higher power other than greed. Yet I fear that once more the open road lies in front of us, and these new companions will yet lead us into more danger. I for one am up to the challenge. Though I care not for these southerns, there is something there, something moving, something that we need to figure out, solve even.
I promise that I will guard your back, and I pray you have mine. Together we will deal with this. Fear not."
"Greed, gentlemen?" comes a voice from within the tent, uncomfortably loud despite being relaxed, "You may recall that you were invited here. I do not charge my guests, only my customers. Also, you may wish to remember that tents were made to keep out the rain, not the sound." As the two jadwiga look back and forth at one another, they realize that she speaks truly. Payment was neither made nor requested.
"Huh? Who said anything about paying!? I won't! I promise you'll have to pry my silvers out of my cold, dead hands, woman!" The old man rises up and quickly leaves the tent, looking around wild-eyed. Once outside, he calms quickly enough, nodding amiably to the customers of the fortune teller approaching.
"How do you do? No problems here...just learned I have to embrace my super powerful inner self, and all. And I'll probably die soon. Have a good day!" He waves to the folk as he continues along.
The words are caught in Ishbaad's throat, his mouth open slightly as if to say something, but nothing is coming out.
I don't claim to put to much stock in the Roma's words, but at least I keep that to myself... have some decency men.
He turns to the sultry woman to apologize for his new companions, but no words come to mind. Eventually he shrugs his shoulders, "Aoife and I only met them last week. The are capable warriors, all, if, apparently short on manners."
"Thank you for your insights today m'lady. I can tell your words were most encouraging to Aoife, and for that I am grateful." Ishbaad dips into a bow before exiting the tent, scowling at the two northerners as he leaves.
Ever the one to hide any and all emotion, it is several yards down the path, and with no one in sight before he allows his face and ears to flush, well, whatever color granite flushes.
"No need to apologize for your friends, mon ami," Madame Enfer smiles, "Especially not when they are only saying what they are feeling. Take care, and be mindful of what stands before you, Ishbaad." Madame Enfer continues to smile as the oread leaves the tent.
"Sophia, ma chérie, you are next. Entrer." Sophia Imirras, the owner of the livery stable steps into the tent.
Coramus spends the rest of the day gloating over his extra two-hundred fifty pieces of gold and avoiding Theodora. "Shall we go to find this portal to the Heart of Winter, then? Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight and I come from the North lands, and we don't appreciate the excursion on our southern clime."
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"Boss... maybe we should go back to nice magic lady again. She make you smile, and she very nice. She make me very nice suspenders, make me carry much more stuff. Maybe she got more good stuff where that came from.
"Why we go to North? Me thought we were running from there. Wait, no... say soft south-landers much more willing to spend their money on our snake oil... though we never try go squeeze oil from snake. What that mean?"
Wrapping the completed parchments in oiled cloths, Jorvik places them securely into his trunk and locks it. He glides his hand over his armor, feeling the improved craftsmanship. He fastens the breastplate around his torso, tightening the laces, and experimentally twisting right and left. He windmills his arms a few times and cannot believe his range of movement.
He continues to fasten his gear to his body, and pack his necessary items.
Lastly, the hefts his hammer. He turns the hammer head, looking at the dull grey metal. It seems so plain, so bare, so purposeful. This was designed for only one purpose, to kill.
The words tumble in his head 'will face a loss of faith or purpose in the near future. You must believe in yourself - your true self - if you are to overcome'.
I know who I am, who I truly am. And right now I know what I must do, what I will do.
Time will come for that later.
It is early in the morning. The sun has not even risen. Ishbaad finds himself once again in the same spot he had spoken to Aoife only last night, though this time he is alone.
...shows that you must endure great hardships in the environment you find yourself in... The words from the harrowing echo in his mind, in spite of his efforts to cast them off as vague suppositions from a charming varisian.
He stares off into the growing cold, motionless save for the flapping of his tunic in the chill breeze.
"My strength does not come from the mountains. My strength comes from the righteousness of my cause." He recites to himself, breaking the silence and pocketing the worn and tattered holy text he carries.
I have already endured hardships, Jewel. You are not here. This rock still stands. There will be more storms. There are always storms. It will take more than a storm to make me crumble.
Dusting the snow from his shoulders, and pulling the edges of the yeti cloak tight together, he turns back towards the town to meet with his companions. The hood dangles on his back, leaving his bald, stony head exposed to the elements. The wind doesn't seem to bother him like it did during their first trip. Perhaps that is thanks to his new cloak. Perhaps it is just his determination.
It is not until the sun has crested the horizon that warmth creeps back into the bones of those gathering for the second excursion into the Border Wood. This time, they know exactly where they are going: the Winter Portal. Jorvik and Kuragin feel certain they will be able to navigate back to the location, but neither know what perils may lay ahead nor what monstrosities may have come through the portal behind them.
The winter weather has encroached even further upon Taldor in the last three days. The road turns to snow about a mile north of where it did before. As the companions follow the trail to the High Sentinel Lodge once more, they are stuck by how truly cold it has become. No warm breezes interrupt the chill spewing forth from the heart of the forest. Everyone pulls their furs closer and trudges on.
Upon arriving at the High Sentinel Lodge - the best place for shelter at almost precisely one day's march from Heldren - the party checks for signs of activity. All are relieved to find that the most recent activity was their departure and everything is as they left it, albeit colder since the fire has long ago gone out. As none of the companions are gifted in the ways of wilderness survival, they are glad for the fact that the little goblin seems to be able to get anything to burn, and a blaze soon flares upon the hearth.
With their hands and feet freshly warmed and a cooked dinner a la Coramus sitting well in their bellies, the companions follow the trail to the portal, which will involve skirting around the High Ridge before heading south and backtracking east. When they cross the bridge near the lodge and the howling chasm, the heroes have to catch one another occasionally as their feet start to slip but make it across safely. Shortly afterwards, however...
The forest stands deathly quiet here. Even the wind has grown still as snow softly falls through the stark branches overhead. Tracks, human in size but oddly misshapen, mar an otherwise unblemished trail through the trees.
Everyone draws weapons, knowing what fresh tracks could mean. Suddenly, three hideously decomposed corpses come crashing through the trees to block the path. Their eyes glow with cool blue menace, and the companions remember that they have faced this type of undead before: frost skeletons.
"Thank you, Jorvik" Kuragin says, touched by the encouraging words of the skald. "It is good to have a fellow man of north here, among the southerners and their weird habits."
The witch feels the others are willing to investigate the portal, and suddenly he gets a weird feeling, wondering if they'll ever come back to this village. Partly as a souvenir , and partly as a supplement to his wardrobe, he buys a set of fashionable clothes. Or whatever passes closest to fashion in the small village, far away from the capital. Combining this new purchase, and his existing wardrobe he creates his new travelling attire, none the more practical than the previous one. Besides the clothes, the witch makes some last minute purchases before joining the others.
After a few minutes walk, Kuragin glances one more time behind him. "Goodbye, soft beds and warms meals"
--
"Oh, these creatures again..." Where once he felt terror encountering such walking dead, now its mostly routine. Knowing what his companions can do, the witch merely concentrates to harass the skeletons with Misfortune, in the unlikely case one survives long enough to attack the warriors.
The wizard makes a good show of waving his arms about, acting as though he is doing something mystical and mighty. Secretly, he hopes for the potent melee fighters to close and dispose of these abominations so he doesn't have to expend any of his arcane might.
"Good job, good job, everyone! They had best be glad I didn't have to summon the hordes of Hell to destroy them!" He nods knowingly, stroking his grey/white beard.
Ishbaad encourages Aoife to step forward again, standing over her shoulder as they thrash the frozen skeletons, always coaching as they fight.
"Well done Aoife. You are really getting the hang of that blade. It looks much more balanced than the last one you wielded. Now lets go over your footwork again..." The gentle giant teaches as the group gathers their things and begins to move forward again.
The strangeness of a small girl encountering a fight with skeletons, and moving on as soon as it was over as if it was a simple sparring lesson is completely lost on Ishbaad as he speaks.
Only a slight scorching sensation accompanies Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's bomb, followed by a chill burst from the frost skeletons as they explode in a shower of ice. In the end, the companions are victorious.
Moving along from the battle, they head west along the High Ridge, and are able to follow week-old signs of travel but only barely. Fresh snow is always falling and the temperature drops as they approach the center of the wood. Soon, the trail intersects with a hunting trail. The companions notice that the footprints here are much more recent than those they had been following. Seconds later, a wounded man wearing snowshoes barrels over the hill and along the path. He is a small but handsome man with long black hair, dressed in hunting leathers. A trail of blood follows him and his breathing is heavy and labored. He looks behind himself in fear and then in relief as he spies the group.
"Thank the gods you've found... me," he puffs and pants, "I caught the... weasel... but it broke........ free... don't know how..... cage.... was smashed.... coming... for me.... might have... lost it.... help... me."
With that, the man falls to the ground at the companions' feet conscious but immobile, exhaustion clearly getting the better of him at last.
"Dryden?" Ishbaad asks add he catches the falling man. Before waiting to see if it was indeed the Hunter they had learned about when they had first arrived at the silver stout, Ishbaad immediately begins to tend to him.
"Icy," he calls to the goblin, using one of Aoife's names for him, "can you help get a fire started? Otherwise we may need to bring him back to the lodge we just left, before the cold takes him. Maybe use that wand, before we lose him altogether. "
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The man rolls over and looks bleary-eyed at Ishbaad, "Yes... yes... Dryden... Dryden Kepp... how did you?..." his body is suddenly wracked by coughs and he winces in pain, "Don't sup-p-p-p-pose you.... have... any healing... or... whisky?"
He shivers and coughs some more, "Help me k-k-kill the... weasel... and we c-c-c-can make it... to... the hunting lodge... hidden nearby.... it's c-c-c-closer than the High.... Sentinel Lodge... anyway."
"Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. Wand, please." Ishbaad says with a stern voice. Saying the goblin's name full out suddenly has a tonal quality that is generally reserved for Aoife when he includes her last name.
"Lets at least try to keep this man from dying before we can kill the weasel. Then we can go help kill it." He says in his regular, even tones.
"We came from Heldren," Ishbaad says in answer to the man's question. "I will explain more when we get you inside."
Why didn't I think of whisky?
Ishbaad pulls out Sanctus Custos from the strap on his back. "Which way is the weasel?" he says, matter-of-factly.