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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight was looking bored, waiting for permission to go check out the "treasure pile" -- something that Coramus rarely gave him. He would often sneak out to find his treasures. The stories were boring him as well... no real stories of treasure hunting, or fire. Then Aoife showed up, and his face brightens into a wide, toothy, goblin smile.
"We go! Find treasures! Much bounty longshanks throw away! You want more joolery? Eefie go with Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight!"
He hears what the girl says, looks at the stilyagi, and his resolve breaks. He runs over to Coramus, trembling, eyes never leaving Jorvik. "Me be good. Me no steal. Boss, you tell him me good goblin!"
Coramus nods along with the lovely woman, his interest level dropping only minutely when he hears mention of a husband. "Hmmmmm...strange tidings. I shall have to check in with this hunter you mentioned and see if he has caught his elusive quarry." He smiles thinly, it making more of a change in the outline of his beard than an actual facial expression, bowing his head a bit in respect to the woman.
The wizard looks at the goblin in a puzzlement, then looks to Jorvik. Speaking quietly to Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, he says, "What's this about? Have you already set about borrowing things again?"
"Trouble keeping your friend in line?" Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight recognizes the voice of Old Mother Theodora, the resident wise woman and village midwife, "Such a strange relationship you two seem to have. Speaking of odd relationships... have you heard what happened with Lady Argentea before she was abducted?
"Well, let me tell you, she was engaged to a man in Zimar," Old Mother Theodora begins, lowering her voice conspiratorially as she delivers this choice tidbit of information (secretly hoping to win favor with the handsome distinguished gentleman and scholar, Coramus), "Here betrothed wasn't exactly to her Ladyship's liking. They fought for the whole first day they met. In the evening, she broke off their engagement - publicly - causing no end of embarrassment to her former intended's family. Damned bandits must have got her on the way back home to Oppara."
Old Mother Theodora moves a little closer to Coramus, smiling at him first, but then also kindly regarding the strange blue goblin.
Ishbaad looks at the blonde haired wild man. an elf? Interesting.
Aoife snaps him out of his observation. "Yes child, I think that would be wise. It seems something is out of sorts. We haven't gotten any closer to finding out about your pops here, so maybe we will get lucky out there."
Turning back to Iskar, "I've taken part in my fair share of patrols. If what you say is true, then the captain of that guard will have a black eye for a long time. Tell me, do you know how often they patrol? What do they typically find on their runs?"
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Coramus strokes his beard thoughtfully. "Hmmmmm...very interesting. Her discarded fiance has very much motive to see her brought low." He turns to his goblin companion, a wry smile on his face, buried in his beard. "And a rescued noblewoman would be very grateful and offer her patronage to her rescuers, possibly. Yes, this has many possibilities."
The scar-faced smith hoists another full beer up to his face, drains it and slams his mug down on the table. "Well, it's been a while since I been in the military," he begins, eyeing Ishbaad while foam drips into his lap from his beard, "But last I heard patrols were daily, but a different route each day. Should be repeatin' the same pattern once a week.
"Bandits and stray, angry animals is all they find. Sure they miss a few, but it's hard to believe they missed a crew big enough to take out Lady Argentea's entourage! Best be talkin' t'the guard who survived if ye want more. He's sure to have a few tales to tell!"
Kuragin looks around the tavern, at first not sure how he would recognize strangers in here. The southlanders look alike anyway. But laying his eyes in one particular table, he understands what the barkeep meant. Yes, these folks must be out of town
Kuragin thanks Kale, and takes the ales, and starts carrying them towards the table.
"Good day, out-of-towners! May I sit in your table? I come bearing gifts" Kuragin smiles and sets the mugs on the table. "Here, one for you as well, Jorvik. "
The Jadwiga sits down, studying the other people ... and creatures in the table. Goblin? Maybe it is normal to goblins to sit in bar in southlands...
"I am Kuragin Ksenyia, from Irrisen. Very nice to meet you! Tell me, is it normal for noble woman to be kidnapped in here southlands? "
The wizard smiles in polite greeting to the newcomer, happily accepting a mug. His face freezes at the mention of the man's origins, and Coramus starts looking him over for signs of the Witches. An unnatural weather phenomenon? Multiple newcomers from the frozen north? Too much coincidence.
He sips at the potent brew, his manner far more reserved than moments before. He discretely checks the tavern for signs of egress, not very satisfied with the results.
Aoife looks at the supple leather gloves wreathed in golden stitching which fit fully up to her elbows, but her mind is elsewhere. The guard might know what happened... she thinks, a slight smile forming on her lips. The guard might be able to tell me where to go... where to find dad...
As she stares at the enormous gauntlets, slowly clenching into surprisingly powerful fists, a puzzled look replaces the child's smirk. When dad travels, he always has a weapon. And when Ishy travels, he has a weapon too... The young girl lifts her head and quickly scans the crowded room. There might be danger when I look for dad...
Taking a few steps away from the table, Aoife leaves the others and weaves through the gathered throng of people. Eventually she stops before a middle-aged man with many scars. "Excuse me, Mister... Mr. Isker Euphram?" Aoife thought she heard his name mentioned around the bar as the local smithy. From her pack, she produced a small bag of gold coins and hands them to the man, her actions making it quite clear she is not familiar with this type of transaction nor how to conduct it. "I need to buy a weapon..."
"I hope that is enough money," she motions to the coin purse, taken in haste from her childhood home before fleeing across the countryside with Uncle Ishy. "It needs to be big and it needs to be heavy..."
The gauntlet-clad hands clench into a fist once more as she stares at the scarred man and awaits an answer.
"A gift is it?" Isker replies, turning from Ishbaad to his small charge, "And what type of big weapon would a little girl like yourself like to give to your friend? Greatswords and greataxes, I have. I may even have a heavy hammer somewhere in storage. Anything else you like, I can make for you soon enough. I don't usually do inscriptions, but for a cute little girl like yourself, I could manage to engrave the name of the recipient for you."
An oddly bald - both head and chin - dwarf approaches the table with his own personal mug of beer. The steel mug is easily twice the size of anyone else's, and the name "Argus" is inlaid in gold across the side of it. He sets it down as he takes his seat. Looking around at the motley crew of outlanders and curious villagers that has gathered, Argus favors everyone with a bright smile. Almost every single one of his teeth is gold. An observer gets the odd impression that his original teeth were gold, and the few that have fallen out were replaced with dull, real ones.
"So, pretty cold weather we've been havin'!" the strange dwarf says, deliberately stating the obvious to break the ice, so to speak, "It's summer and it's startin' t'feel like late autumn.... and the Border Wood feels colder'n the heart o' winter. Magic's gotta be involved," - Argus spits on the floor at the mention of magic - "and I'm bettin' those durned Qardirans'll be behind it, or I'm a shaved halfling."
The dwarf puts his feet up on the table as though settling in for a long conversation before suddenly planting them back on the floor and leaning forwards, "Oh, where are me manners! Name's Argus Goldtooth! I'm the local barber-surgeon... and dentist!" He smiles again to show off his handiwork to the group of potential new customers. "Me shop's just next t'this tavern. Come in and I'll shave ye clean, trim yer hair, or find a cure fer whatever ails ye! O'course, that is provided this cold don't freeze me leeches solid. They definitely work better when it's warm."
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"Boss, me no do anything! Me with you whole time!" Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight is practically trembling, keeping Coramus, and the table, between himself and Kuragin.
He then reacts to the older woman, deciding Old Mother Theodora would protect them. After all, she seemed to take a liking to the Boss, so why wouldn't she help?
"Who this Ladyship? She good people? She give good reward for rescue?" Thoughts of being actually liked by people in one of these strange southern towns flies through the goblin's head. "We rescue her, good. Make bandits go BOOM! Me no hurt good ladyship, though. Me rescue, and bring back. She see! Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight brave goblin! Braver than longshanks in steel clothes! Me and boss will save her!"
'Anything to get us away from a Jadwiga. They are bad business... always were in Whitethrone. When one of them was around, Frostfur goblins would go missing.'
"A great sword. That's what her father wielded. Seems fitting." Ishbaad says with a smile towards the girl.
oh.... He doesn't think it's for her.... Heh...
"Perhaps make the inscription, In honor of Nadezhda" he says, favoring the smithy with a warm smile.
Turning to the new dwarf, and feeling bolder since there are so many 'outsiders' joining the conversation, he says, "Quadrians? What would they care about a traveling lady? Would be pretty bold to do it right under the patrols nose like that... Even if they hired it out to mercs. "
Turning to Coramus, "So we meet on the road, and it appears we will travel together some more. Aoife and Ice.... seem to have struck up the most peculiar friendship I have seen in my short years... If you are interested in finding out more about this missing woman, it would be crazy not to combine our efforts. "
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Ishbaad hears the northern man's question and turns, the better to listen closely.
"I am not from around here, but I cannot imagine a kidnapping not being strange. Then again I wouldn't have imagined in all my days to see a goblin and a girl exchanging jewelry making tips either..."
He looks over to catch the two showing off both of their latest creations.
"what brings you here? And thanks." Ishbaad finishes his question by lifting his mug, indicating for what he is grateful.
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"Hello Old Mother Theodora, I am Jorvik. A question if yo please." The young man looks towards Kuragin before taking a seat. "How do you know that this noble woman was kidnapped? People come and go all the time up north, especially if she was getting married as you say. Was her betrothed of fair breath? Did he treat her as an equal, worth of delivering the killing blow to a raging mammoth, or did he coddle her, like we hear many of the soft southerns do?"
Again the assembled perk up at his melodious voice, and it takes them a few minutes to register what he says in spite of his enchanting voice.
The youth quickly makes sure his long hair is covering his pointed ears, before drawing a long drought from his draft.
Coramus nods affably to Ishbaad's suggestion. "Logic would dictate us teaming up, young man, yes it would. And the young girl and my companion seem to have hit it off quite nicely. Most people look badly upon Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight...for no reason, I assure you. We travel around because we like to see the world, yes we do."
If Coramus and Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight could save this noblewoman, this might even be a place they could settle down a while. A place that might have enough goodwill built up to overlook the occasional antics of a kleptomaniac goblin. Then again...with Jadwigas and strange magic winter forests, maybe it was time to be away. Traveling with these strangers could afford them that opportunity, as well, if it needed taking.
Old Mother Theodora smiles, "Such attention from so many handsome men," she beams, and her chin hairs wiggle with the excitement, "Well, I will answer the strange blue goblin - Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight is it? - first. Not terribly much is known in Heldren about Lady Argentea, except that she stopped by on her way through to Zimar. She was nice enough, but headstrong like so many nobles and foolish youths that I've met. Not like we, more mature men and women." Theodora's gaze lingers on Coramus for a while before turning back to Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight.
"I'm sure she will reward you well for her rescue," she continues, "It would be wonderful if you'd be willing to rescue the poor woman! I'm sure the local militia would like to save her, but with what appears to be an unnatural Winter approaching, they are stretched thin as it is with keeping the peace. Besides, Councillor Teppen usually asks traveller types like yourselves to help with such problems.
"Now as to whether she was actually kidnapped or not," the old lady fixes her attention on the strange barbarian with the mellifluous voice, "'Tis what the guard who survived said. He's an Ulfen fellow, not a people who are prone to lying. If you want to know more, I'm afraid you'll need to ask him yourselves. I'm just telling you what I heard, secondhand information at best. Your hands will make it thirdhand.
"Regarding her betrothed, I haven't the foggiest. The good Lady never spoke to me, and like never spoke of her betrothed at all. From what I understand, they never met until she got to Zimar. That's the way such things usually work. If he's typical of Taldan nobility, though, I doubt strongly that he would have treated her as an equal or have been able to 'fell a mammoth' with anything but a lengthy sermon."
On the other side of the room, Argus the Dwarven Barber-Surgeon laughs, "What would Qadirans want wi' a Taldan noble he asks! Ha! That's a good one, friend. Sure, the war might be over, but those two nations've been at each other's throats fer centuries now. Kidnapping a Taldan and ransoming her back or even just making an example o' her... well, just the type o' thing they're like to try. You don't end five hunnerd years o' hatred wi' naught but happy memories! That Xerbystes would sell his own mother for another chance at ware wi' Taldor. Mebbe he's tryin' to prod the lion - t'see if'n it bites and t'give 'im an excuse t'march north once more. Heldren'd be one o' the first places t'fall if Zimar couldn't hold 'em."
A beautiful elven woman with cascading golden hair, pale alabaster skin and ruby red lips appears behind Argus and places a lithe, slender hand upon his shoulder. "Calm now, Argus," she says simply in a gentle tone and a voice that could rival Jorvik's for its pleasant tone, "The armies of Qadira have yet to be mobilized. No need to rally the defenders just yet." This seems to make the dwarf chuckle - almost a titter - and he flushes ever so slightly red before quietly returning to his drink.
The newly arrived elf takes a seat just next to Argus and smiles at the assembled crew of villagers and traveling misfits. "My name is Tessaraea Willobark," she says pleasantly, "I own the apothecary just behind the Silver Stoat. It is a pleasure to meet you - and please do come by if you need any potions, ointments, elixirs or other rare liquids. I trade in them all."
"Ye should see her collection o' liquid fire! Astonishing!" exclaims the dwarf, seeming more proud than anything else. It is Tessaraea's turn to blush.
Kuragin hears the Oread's question, but stays silent for a moment, thinking hard what to answer. "I left north to enter the south" he finally says, employing the fine art of answering by not answering at all. "But I wonder if I can leave north for good. It looks like the winter is coming here, too"
The Jadwiga takes a swig from his mug, tasting the southern drink. So this is what they drink here. Light. But refreshing...
"Reward, you say...?" While he certainly is no mercenary, the idea of easy coin sure does interest him. "Where is this ulfen man who guarded her? I would like to speak to him."
"Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight is the one who mentioned the reward," says Old Mother Theodora, "But I did confirm its likelihood. I think the wounded man is staying with..."
"His name is Yuln Oerstag, by the way, and he is staying with me," states Tessaraea, the recently arrived Elven alchemist, "Between my salves, Argus's bandages and the prayers of Elder Safander, Yuln is recovering as best as may be hoped for someone in the condition he was in. Yes, he is still gravely injured, but I'd say he should prove eager to speak with anyone who offers a hope of avenging his comrades and finding his lost charge. If you'd like to speak with him, I'd be only too happy to take you once I've finished my drink." The lovely Tessaraea swirls her half-full glass of Three Devil Ale for Kuragin to see.
Aoife turns to Uncle Ishy at his suggestion, and smiles deeply in utter satisfaction. For my mother, she thinks, still grinning. It will be a great, big sword... Just like dad's. she can only hope the blade will be ready soon, as deep down she feels a lighter, and easier to find blade, will now be too flimsy and ineffective in her now surprisingly powerful grasp.
Returning to the table, Aoife places her hand on the table, the gigantic leather glove overshadowing the size of a nearby mug. As her hand comes to rest, it is clear the child is not familiar with her new found strength as her palm slams into the wood, spilling a nearby drink. "Let's go see this Mister Oersta," Aoife speaks to the others. "Come on, Ice Melts Quickly in Sunlight, do you want to go?!"
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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight runs over to the elven woman, and grabs onto her skirt, tugging it in excitement. "Liquid Fire? Me !!! Ma'am Willobark, you show me liquid fire? I make liquid fire, too! We play booms togther? Me like fire! Zarongel like fire! You make fire, me like you!"
"Boss!" he yells out. "She make FIRE!!!"
Then, Aoife surprises him by asking if he wants to go find see this Ulfen guard. "But... FIIIIIIIIIIYERE!!!" He looks truly torn.
Luckily for Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, the liquid fire is in the same place as the Ulfen guard.
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As the excitement calms (while Tessaraea finishes her drink), Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight realizes that he can do both! He can see liquid fire, AND be a good goblin.
At this point, he starts staring, intently, at Tessaraea's glass. He is literally bouncing, still hanging onto her skirt. "Me be good goblin! Me help poor Ulfen man. He from cold lands, like Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight, so maybe this nasty heat down here make him sick. Me know some healing!! Me have potion!"
He continues on like this... until someone of authority shushes him. And even then, he whispers to himself, "Me good goblin. Me help. Me has to help now. Why we wait? Mister Oersta hurt like Eeefie say. Me help now!"
Coramus frowns at the mention of the alchemist in town. He and the goblin usually did better when there was not a resident physician. And especially one half so lovely. Still, all it meant was a slight tweaking to what they offered.
The wizard adds his voice, "Mmmm, yes. We should speak to this man and see what he has to say. Chances are he didn't see much, too busy running, you know. Not that I know anything about running. Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight and I are paragons of bravery. Yes, I heard. Fire, make booms, I'm very excited too. No, I didn't fall asleep, I was just thinking."
Ulfen. If he says one word about my ears there will be one less Ulfen
"This story has piqued my interest, as well as Kuragin's. May we accompany you?"
What a beautiful elf. I wonder how she would feel about seeing my pointed ears. Probably say they aren't pointed enough..
The group is led out of the Silver Stoat, and bask in the early afternoon heat before a southern breeze brings chills to their bones. It may be their imagination, but the winds do seem to be growing colder.
Tessaraea guides the group to her apothecary, the streets of Heldren are almost deserted - everyone is either enjoying lunch at the Stoat or tending to their businesses, "Did you hear?" Tessaraea asks the group as she fiddles with the lock to her shop (keen observers note that it is of exceptional quality, Dwarven make and far to complicated for a shop in a back-water town), "Old Man Dansby, who has the farm closest to the Border Wood, is going to have quite the hard year this year. Most of his crops have apparently been killed off by the cold, he says it's actually snowing there! Perhaps more worryingly, though, he says the rest of his crops have been inexpertly harvested and carried off. If a solution cannot be found... that poor old man is going to need some help."
Finally, Tessaraea opens the door and light spills into her cozy and crowded shop front. The shelves are orderly, but packed with various salves, potions and other alchemical items. Locked up behind the counter are the items that Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight has longed to see. It is the mother load. Flask after flask of alchemist's fire sits upon the row. There must be two score or more of them. "No touching, for sale only," says Tessaraea somewhat severely upon seeing the goblin's eyes light up.
"Just through here," Tessaraea indicates the curtain behind the counter, which leads into her living room and kitchen. Upon a makeshift cot on the ground, a tall blond man struggles to sit up. His wounds are still clearly paining him, but he doesn't even grunt as he raises himself onto his elbows. Bandages cover his face, but his blackened nose is still clearly visible. Looking at his hands, the group notes that he is frostbitten there also.
"What have ye brought me now, elf?" asks the man with a strong northern accent, "More folk t'try'n fix mine ailments? I appreciate the effort, lass, but I'll wait fer that priest t'finish his prayers if ye don't mind. I pray not to Erastil, but he seemed confident his god would be willing t'heal me."
The elf indicates that the heroes should introduce themselves and moves subtly over to the counter - perhaps to guard her collection of alchemical fire.
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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's eyes perk up when he sees the collection of alchemist's fire, far more than he's seen in any one place -- mostly because he cannot help himself to use the fire that he makes. He sighs, and then turns the wounded man.
"Me Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight! Me good goblin! Ask Boss! Ask Eefie! Me no touch fire. You hurt with ice? That look hurts. Me have potion to make better!" He looks back to Coramus, to get assurance that he is doing right.
The wizard nods gravely, closing his eyes for a moment as he gives reassurance to his goblin friend. Most were not keen to receive the help of a goblin, but this particular one was well-schooled in alchemy, an apothecarical virtuoso. Coramus steps in and to the side, assessing the young Ulfen's injuries.
"Please don't take offense, but we aren't here so much to address your wounds as we are to hear the story of what happened firsthand. We 6 have only met recently, but all have our own reasons why returning your charge to your care would be personally beneficial. Since our goals all align, any information you can provide would be most welcome, and would aid in our search for your lady."
Ishbaad smiles warmly, and speaks reassuringly to the battered man. He looks at him expectantly, ready to absorb the information he has.
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"Grab a mug o' spiced mead, tis quite the tale," Juln begins, eyeing Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight suspiciously, "We were on our way back from Zimar, a little earlier'n planned, with the Lady Argentea. Then I am hearing the sounds of battle from the front of the column. First, me comrades and I thought it is bandits - human wolves of the road - and it is being true at same time as it is being much worse. We were facing the winter-touched, the cold fey of the North. I swear it on Gorums's greatsword."
Yuln pauses a moment to let this set in. "Bandits, we could manage," he says with no sign of exaggeration, "But with the magic of the fey? We didn't stand a chance. Their foul withery quickly turned the tide. My People hold legends of the winter-touched, and they are talked of all the time, but never did I expect to see them so far south. They were as though straight out of Irissen itself - may that whole country and all its 'Jadwiga' be damned to the darkest pits of the Abyss!"
Yuln continues to recall the battle in great detail. He talks of the curses turning their arrows at the last minute. He recounts the cruel laughter of the frigid sprites at each time one of his companions fell. At no point did Yuln retreat or flee from battle, but a great look of shame crosses his face as he tells how he was brought low.
"'Twas an illusion, I'm sure. An ice troll appeared from out of nowhere and I turned to face it, prepared to meet my doom. I struck forth but my blade met no resistance. Off balance as I was, a cowardly blow from behind felled me," a tear rolls down his face at the mention of defeat, "As my consciousness fled, I saw the bandits drag the bound but still struggling Lady Argentea into the forest, through the drifts of ice and snow - toward the heart of that unnatural winter."
Yuln clenches his darkens fists and one black finger conspicuously fails to close. "I awoke less than a minute later and gave pursuit. I was harried by the winter-touched however, and despite bringing down two of their number with my cold-forged steel," he pats the longsword next to his cot affectionately, "They were too many. I was forced to retreat and rode as fast as I could to seek help. Some good that has done me. The council says they have too few men to spare on such an expedition. You give me hope, however. You are the first I've seen to actually speak of finding her!" Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight cannot help but notice he addresses Ishbaad when he speaks of hope, tearing his piercing gaze away from the goblin just before saying it.
The child looks at the grizzled man with a gaze of sadness and compassion, with his frostbitten nose, ears, and lifeless, stiff finger. As the northerner's words rattle in her brain, Aoife's mind races at other thoughts. I heard dad talking about patches of cold where it should not be... and then he went and never came back, she thinks to herself. Just then, Aoife truly recognizes the similarity of Lady Argentea's tale to disappearance of her father.
If this lady was attack and dragged away... maybe dad was too. Whatever is at the icy heart in the middle of this wood could lead straight to dad...
Stepping closer to the bed, Aoife places one enormous, gauntlet-clad hand on the man's foot, perhaps squeezing too hard with her new found strength. "We will find your missing lady," Aoife says with surprising conviction for one so small. "Uncle Ishy could probably do it himself, because cold doesn't hurt a stone." The girl looks briefly back to the towering figure of her guardian.
"But we also have these others," she motions to the surrounding group, still not removing her forceful grip on the injured man's leg. "And I think we'll see they all having something special about them."
"Especially..." her gaze finally comes to a halt on the brilliant, blue goblin, but the child fails to finish her sentence.
I have seen and bested these fey. Weakling. If he opens his mouth one more time and utters anther word about my people I will end him here.
"Many thanks for your story. I am sure your people will compose epic ballads of your bravery and deeds. May the cold leave your tissues soon and you return to normal fighting prowess.
So you were south of Zimar, and the bandidts headed into the woods. Have you or any others ever scouted these woods?"
The youth stares impassively at the injured Ulfen, unashamed of his terse words.
"West and north of Zimar, south of Heldren," Yuln says, now also suspicious of Jorvik having heard his accent, "As I said, we did not scout the woods. I followed the fey as far as I could before needing to allow reason and their greater numbers to turn me around. I am sure you'll be able to find scouts should you need them, but with the thick blanket of snow covering the ground I doubt the bandits will be hard to follow for the next day or two at least."
"Fey..." Ishbaad trails off as he scours his mind, remembering what details he can of them...
Ishbaad supresses a chuckle, but not his smile at the girl's confidence in his abilities, or more accurately, his heritage. Even if it wasn't necessarily true.
Stone might get hurt, but it does not let it show young one...
Looking around at the motley band of travelers, he takes a deep breath.
"We will not need scouts. Each of us has traveled some distance to get here, and so are clearly capable of continued travels in unfamiliar lands. Though hopefully your sundry shop still carries some winter furs left over from the last season. It seems from your description, and the gossip at the stoat, that all we need to do is go where the snow is deeper and the wind is colder. Due south."
As soon as he says the words, they feel awkward rolling off his tongue.
Due south? into the heart of the cold? This world just may be turning upside down...
He turns his gaze back to the injured ulfen, "Take heart my battered friend. If there are answers to be found, we will find them. And if those answers lead us to your charge, we will bring her back to you." Ishbaad rests his hand on the shoulder of the man, grabbing his weathered holy symbol of Iomedae, and says a silent prayer.
"Mi'lady Tessaraea. Where is this Dansby farmer you spoke of? If his crops were damaged and stolen, perhaps whatever force that has taken the lady is behind the theft. It's a theory, but if true, it would mean that they haven't gone anywhere and are planning on an extended stay, hence the need for food. Whether they are the cause of, or an unfortunate by-product of the cold remains to be seen. Either way, I believe we may find more information about who and what we seek if we speak with this farmer. The town watch might do well to inform others to watch their livestock."
Turning away from the lovely elf, he looks down at his little friend. "Aoife, lets go see if your greatsword is done. Then we will go up to our room and gather our gear. We may not be back for a few days."
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Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight stops playing his good goblin role, and starts thinking, carefully. Puzzled, he asks. "why cold to south. Cold from north!" He then focuses on what he has heard about these fey, who to fight them, what they are vulnerable to. He hopes it is fire, because he LOVES fire.
Then, once he realizes what he knows, he says, "Me know lots about fey. Want me tell?"
"The winter-touched can be quite pricks sometimes, but there's no need to judge a whole nation because of them." Kuragin says, slightly offended. Then he thinks for a moment about his people, and how outsiders must feel about them. And then grunts in agreement with the Ulfen.
"Winter fey... They must come through the portal... But why? And why would they be kidnapping local noblewoman..? There is much I don't understand..." rubbing his chin, the Jadwiga is clearly thinking out loud, rather than talking to anyone in particular. Then looking at the assembled group: "We should investigate. Start at the battle site, and follow the tracks from there?"
"Hmmmmm....battle does something to some men's minds, yes? Perhaps they were just small men who laughed at the falling of their enemies. A pack of mad dwarves. I mean dwarves as in stunted men, not dwarf dwarves. Yes, yes, stealing food would be just the thing a man-dwarf would do, the spiteful little creatures."
He is snapped out of his reverie by Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight's proclamation of knowledge. "Yes, please do tell us all about these fey, good chap. It will make for interesting telling on the way to deal with these half-men."
Looking from Coramus to the goblin, the youth eagerly awaits Ice Melts Quickly in Sunlight's explanation about the fey. She is desperate to know more about gathering cold and mysterious creatures. While she intently stares at Ice Melts Quickly in Sunlight, Aoife begins to think more about what the man known as Kuragin, and what he has just said.
He talks like he is from the north, and says the creatures come from there too, she thinks, now looking him up and down in awe. And he says there are portals to the north... Could he have come through one of the portals... with his friend, Jorvik?
Is the portal still be open?
Ishbaad wracks his brain about the fey. He's fairly certain that the evil ones mostly speak Aklo while the good ones tend to speak Sylvan. He also recalls that most evil fey are damaged by cold iron. More than that, his brain is unwilling to yield.
Tessaraea comes out from the shop front, noting that the goblin is no longer ogling her unusually capacious collection of alchemist's fire. "Old Farmer Dansby is at the southern-most edge of Heldren, quite close to the border wood. Councillor Teppen should be able to show you a map. I believe she keeps one at the town hall and probably one at her house. That is a good idea about the town militia looking out for livestock. Perhaps some farmers could consolidate for now and bring their herds closer to town until the trouble has passed."
Yuln seems to relax visibly at Ishbaad's reassurance they'll investigate the kidnapping of Lady Argentea. His ease s short-lived, however. As Kuragin speaks, his black and pale face grows ever redder until eventually, he cannot stand to hear the man's voice any longer, "No need to judge the whole nation because of them? Well, I'll give you a dozen more reasons then! How about that entire nation belongs to my people! That bîtch Baba Yaga stole it, with those "pricks" as you casually refer to them, at the front of her armies. Then she installed her fücking half-breed witch daughters on the throne when she grew bored of it. My people have been enslaved for over a millennium by those cursed Jadwiga forced to eke out a living in a place of eternal winter, under the cruel and uncaring leadership of those witches. Their place in society is even lower than the snow goblins!
"Aha! I knew there was something wrong about the lot of you!" he continues, actually rising from his cot, "That's a snow goblin, isn't it? That accent, too, and those attitudes... you are ! You are behind this somehow! Call the guards!!! These are not saviors, but Irreseni in disguise! They have brought the Winter! They have brought the Winter!"
Yuln actually pulls forth his cold iron blade before Tessaraea steps in with a steaming mug of something or other in her hand, "Calm now, calm now! There will be no fighting in my shop. We shall fetch the guards. Drink this in the meantime." Yuln downs the warm brew in a single gulp. His knees grow weak and the man curls back up on the ground snoring loudly. Tessaraea looks over at the companions.
"His prejudices are old ones, but when he wakes, he will spread them amongst the townsfolk," the elf sighs, "Best to have some results by then. Speak with Councillor Teppen - her house is just down the street - gear up, and be on your way as quickly as you can. You've got about an hour before he wakes."
Winter-touched and Winter Fey
These primarily evil fey are bound to the Jadwiga of Irrisen by an ancient pact they made with Baba Yaga herself when she conquered the lands from the Linnorm Kings.
They are resistant to mundane weapons, but are typically vulnerable to fire and cold iron. They fear these things, and will attempt to either avoid or kill anyone wielding either, depending upon how bold they are.
The Jadwiga use the winter-touched from everything to house servants (such as the domovos, who are treated as a wizard may treat an unseen servant) to foot soldiers in the constant battles with the Ulfens and the frequent and violent crushing of internal civil unrest.
Winter fey specifically
Winter fey may walk through snow and ice as easily as clear ground, and do not suffer penalties for doing so. Their feet do not even break the crust of the snow and they may "skate" freely upon thin ice without fear of falling in.
Being touched by any of the more powerful winter fey can cause terrible chills from the frigidity, freezing the very blood in a man's veins and chilling him to the bone . These somewhat more powerful winter fey even cause whichever weapon they happen to be carrying to exude cold also .
Being so used to the cold, winter fey are actually hardier than their warm-weathered counterparts . These cold creatures even draw nourishment from the cold itself .
Walking as close are he can to the Ulfen warrior, Jorvik places his spiked gauntlet a hair's breath away from the man's frostbitten facial features.
"Once you are healed, I will come back here and put this gauntlet straight through your eye socket and out the back of your dim-witted skull. Heal quickly for your death comes like a snowstorm forming in the Kodar Mountains."
Coramus eyes Jorvik appraisingly. "Such an action seems counter-productive, young man. Why not put your gauntlet through his skull now and save this poor woman days of toil spent helping this man recover? Not that I wish you to smash his head, mind you. We should be mindful of our lovely hostess." He smiles and nods to Tess, then proceeds out the door.
"Ahhh, hmmm...which way are we going?"
With varying feelings about Yuln's outburst, the six adventurers make their way from Tessaraea's apothecary to Councillor Teppen's house, on the corner due directly east from the Silver Stoat.
The door opens and a young, stern woman with long brown hair opens the door. "Hello. You must be the newcomers to town that everyone seems to be talking about. What can I do for you?"
Aoife, unsure of herself and afraid to be the first one to speak after the way Mister Oerstag reacted, quickly looks to the others, then upwards at the stoic form of Uncle Ishy. With a slow sidestep, the youth nonchalantly shifts her position behind the group, interposing Ishbaad between herself and Councilor Teppen.
Ishbaad steps forward to the Councillor when they are greeted.
"You are correct. My name is Ishbaad, and this is Aoife, Coramus, Kuragin, Jorvik, and Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. We have only recently met each other, but each of us has our own reasons to look into the mystery of the assaulted caravan and missing Lady Argentea. We mean to pool our efforts and strike out together, but wished to speak with you first. We intend to search for answers, but doing so with your blessing, and any information you may have would be preferable to the alternative."
Ishbaad clears his throat and continues.
"We have spoken with Yuln and gotten the story of what happened from his mouth. We only require a few supplies and we can be on our way in short order. Is there any information you might have that would aid in our investigation? If the Lady is still alive, then time is of the essence."
Ishbaad decides to hold the information about Yuln's outburst for now, not wanting to give Councillor Teppan a reason to think the same about his unlikely traveling companions.
"I can give you a map of the wood, with the most recent winter encroachment marked in, as reported by the last patrol of Sentinels," she quickly ducks inside her simple house to retrieve the document and hands it to Ishbaad, but she also hands him a sword, "My husband's. It is made from cold-forged steel. I've heard that is effective against the so called 'winter-touched' that Juln speaks of.
"If you have spoken to him, then I'm afraid I can give you precious little else by way of aid. However, I can thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping out in this situation. I'm sure you've already heard that our militia is stretched thin as it is, and I cannot risk losing good men to that now-accursed frozen wood."
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"Boss, me tell! Me tell!
"There be many kinds of the winter-touched. They is used by the Jadwiga as everything from house servants to foot soldiers in the constant battles with the Ulfens and the frequent and violent crushing of internal civil unrest. They very good at getting around in winter, skating over snow and ice with ease. They nasty, they freeze good goblins with a touch, and me think that the winter-touched is pretty weak as the winter fey go... which mean they pretty tough, still. They really tough, and hard to kill... and heal real fast in snow. Me think you should hit them with cold iron weapons, but me just use fire. FIRE!
"I do good, Boss?"
"Excellent, Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight. That was just the story I was wanting to hear on our way to rid this quiet hamlet of its wayward mutants. You can throw fire at them too, methinks. Oh, and be prepared for a rather lengthy tactical retreat, young man, just in case we run into any beautiful blonde women. No, we should not talk to them, I am certain." The wizard nods sagely, eyes shrewd in his weathered face. This winter in summer crap was no good, and there were plenty of other warm places in the world where things stayed warm in the summer.
Kuragin watches Yuln's outburst in silence. The situation is odd... Back home, such words from an Ulfen would have meant his death, most likely in a gruesome public display. Only after Tessarea's infusions put the man back to slumber, the Jadwiga whispers: "Such hatred. Even after fourteen centuries, they hold grudge for lost lands."
--
"We thank you humbly of this sword," Kuragin says politely to the councillor, but waits for someone else to pick up the sword. "I think we got a bad start with the Ulfen. I hope rescuing this noblewoman would get us better reputation (and reward)" he says to his new companions. "Before we go, you might want to buy warm clothes. It is cold in the forest."
"Yes, yes, warm clothes for cold woods. An excellent idea. And since it is the middle of summer, we might be able to buy them at a discount, since they are out of season. This holds many possibilities, hmmmm..." Coramus strokes his beard a few moments, then turns to Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight.
"Come on, lad. We must get some warm clothes to bundle up in while we cavort about in the winter woods."
The companions stock up at the Heldren General Store and Isker's Smithy. A homely red-haired spinster by the name of Vivialla Steranus runs the general store with a sharp eye and a no-nonsense attitude. Ice Melts Quietly in Sunlight suffers the worst from her glares. The poor goblin would find it very difficult indeed to appropriate any 'treasures' without the woman noticing.
"We got five cold weather outfits left," says Vivialla in a manner more suited to getting rid of customers than making a sale, "Eight gold apiece and not a copper less. If'n ye've got coin t'pay fer magic lemme know. I got me some choice items some adventurers offloaded a while back. But from the looks of ye, I'd say ye'll be needin' t'do quite a bit more adventurin' afore ye can pay the right price fer either."
With their sundries in hand, the unlikely crew of companions sets out for the Border Wood.