This thread is for Deadly Secret's Reign of Winter.
dot
Dot
1 - Armory
2 - Isker’s Smithy
3 - General Store
4 - Town Hall
5 - Willowbark Apothecary
6 - Barber
7 - The Silver Stoat
8 - Livery Stable
9 - Town Square
10 - Someone’s House
11 - Temple of Erastil
12 - Carpenter
13 - Heldren Sawmill
14 - The Butcher of Jalrune
15 - Old Mother Theodora’s Home
The date is 4713 AR on Oathday, 17th Earstus at 12:00 pm.
The sleepy village of Heldren has rarely seen so much excitement or concern. Hunters from the nearby Border Wood speak of unnaturally cold weather at the height of summer that descended on the forest just days ago. Heavy snow followed, and those who returned spoke of an uneasy presence in the woods, as well as new, dangerous predators. No one knows what this event means, but the town’s soothsayer, Old Mother Theodora, claims dark times lie ahead.
As if in proof of that dire prophecy, a badly wounded mercenary arrived in town yesterday, claiming to be a bodyguard of Lady Argentea Malassene. He told the village council that the noblewoman’s escort came under attack by bandits and strange, wintry creatures near the edge of the Border Wood. He alone escaped, and Lady Argentea was dragged away into the forest. Now the townsfolk cast fearful eyes toward the snowy forest, worried what else might emerge to threaten their peaceful village.
A farmer's son took ill a few days ago after falling through the ice over Wishbone Creek. The boy said he spotted a white stag in the forest-and heard it talking-then tried to follow it.
A group of rangers in the Border Wood called the High Sentinels usually keep bandit activity curbed. They're doing a poor job if brigands could attack a well-armed caravan and abduct Lady Argentea.
Locals say a hunter named Dryden Kepp claimed he saw a giant white weasel on the High Ridge in the forest. No one believed him so he went back to trap it and prove them wrong.
and
Two weeks ago, Lady Argentea Malassene traveled past Heldren on her way from Oppara to Zimar to meet her betrothed. Rumor has it the two didn't get along and Lady Argentea caused a scandal by calling off the engagement and returning home.
Old Man Dansby claims that someone keeps stealing from his fields. His farm lies closest to the Border Wood, where half his crops have died from an icy frost and the rest have been carried off.
A farmer's son took ill a few days ago after falling through the ice over Wishbone Creek. The boy said he spotted a white stag in the forest-and heard it talking-then tried to follow it.
And I thought nothing interesting ever happened here, thinks Lars to himself as he makes his way to the town hall, fully geared up. These recent events seem to be shaping into the kind of opportunity he's been looking for. An attacked and abducted noblewoman combined with rumors that something must have happened to the High Sentinels that usually prevent this sort of thing? Odds are good there's some folks who'd be really grateful to have this problem sorted out right quick. Lars isn't bothered by the thought of the strange cold, and knows enough about tracking to be pretty sure that he could follow whatever took Lady Malassene, but he isn't a fool. He also knows he's pretty green, and whatever managed to take out her escort is probably more than a match for him by himself. He'd need allies. That's why he's headed to the town hall. Hopefully there's an official recovery effort being coordinated, one he can get himself attached to.
It doesn't take long to get anywhere in a town as small as Heldren, and soon enough he's reached his destination. He strides purposefully through the front doors and surveys the scene inside for a moment, looking for any sign that there's a group getting together, or discussions about doing so. He hopes that his Ulfen heritage might make him an obvious choice for any group being chosen to delve into the unseasonable cold. Goodness knows he'd enjoy it a lot more than the summer weather that's supposed to be there this time of year.
Vernonia sits in the main room of The Silver Stoat. The inn is abuzz with rumors about winter weather, giant white weasels, and the kidnapping of a noble lady.
Winter in the middle of summer. Gozreh does not like his seasons meddled with. I guess I am going to have to head down there and see what is going on, but where do I start.
She finishes her meal and tries to come up with a plan.
After momentary disappointment no orchid is going to survive these sudden summer frosts Voronwe's ears prick up with the excitement of discovery.
He starts questioning locals in the village's inn, The Silver Stoat: "So, wait, what? Someone's been stealing from you?" He looks doubtfully at the farmer, "That's, I mean... That's a real shame but what's that got to do with this weather and these creature? Do you think the source is near your farm?"
Baxter finds himself at the Apothecary, peeking among the shelves as he collects some components needed for his extracts. "Poor kid." he says. "But I've never heard of a talking elk before." he talks to himself as he selects his final purchases and vacates.
The ratfolk has the hood of his winter clothing down, and his light gray fur looks almost orange in the firelight. Swirls of bluish fur looked almost like Woad twirling down his body. His gear looks to be in good condition and his tail is curiously white instead of pink, and the tip is covered in a strapped leather sleeve.
Outside, Baxter stops to survey the town. As he walks past the barbershop, he wiggles his whiskers, pondering the strangeness of having to cut one's hair when one could just shed instead. The Silver Stoat looked like a good place to find out more hearsay, so he enters the tavern and looks for a place to curl up and enjoy a drink. While too late to overhear anything from the farmer, he does note the other two people in the tavern who look like outsiders.
Ah, some others that came to town recently. Umbaroth always warned that these kinds of meetings end in a group of fools heading off to their doom. His whiskers twitch again. Let's see where these ones go, eh?
Lars' determined expression falters at the lack of the activity that he'd hoped he'd find here, and he can't help but show some of his disappointment for a moment before making an effort to recover in order to not be rude to the custodian.
"Hello, Orillus, I'm Lars," he says, giving the man's hand a shake. "I know I don't look it, but I'm local, actually. You might have heard of my father? The retired Ulfen Guard?" He pauses for a half second or so, raising an eyebrow, before pressing on. "Doesn't matter, really. I was rather hoping that there would be some sort of gathering to deal with yesterday's news, and all." He puts a hand to his forehead and rubs it in an embarrassed manner, clinging desperately to the dimishing hope that he might just be early. "You wouldn't happen to know if there are any plans in the works? A search and rescue party for Lady Argentea? Anything at all?"
Boldly, perhaps foolishly, Voronwe feels sorry for the farmer and guilty that he was only focussed on the mystery of recent events, not their impact on other people.
He claps a hand on the farmer's shoulder, "I don't know anyone who could do that but I've got a little magic of my own. Maybe I'll take a look around the farm, see what I can figure out."
Vernonia gets up and approaches the elf who is consoling the farmer.
"What happened at his farm? Is it near the woods?"
Lars nods his understanding. "Alright, then, thanks," he says with a deep exhale. "You have a good day, Orillus. I might check back in later to see if you've seen her if I don't turn anything up."
Dismayed and deflated, Lars steps back outside and sighs deeply. He's not sure where to start looking for a council leader like Teppen, but he can see the Silver Stoat across the plaza from where he is now.
Maybe she's stopped there for lunch? he wonders to himself as the town hall doors close behind him. And even if she didn't, maybe there's more news to be had. Or at least some food and a drink to take the edge off this embarrassment.
With that decided, he strides quickly across the plaza and pushes his way into the tavern, a tall Ulfen man fully armed with sword and bow, but with an undeniable look of disappointment on his face.
Ysabella finds herself considering the nervous atmosphere of Heldren from atop The Silver Stoat. She felt safer at heights, away from the hustle and bustle of regular life. It does help when absentminded tavernkeepers leave ladders leaning against the side of their taverns. She yawns deeply and leans back to stare up at the clouds, outwardly she is calm, but inwardly the recent news has her worried, I can't just assume every flash snow and fall through the ice is the work of the Winter Witches. She sits up and shakes her head in frustration, so much for a relaxing day. She crosses the rooftop to the ladder and makes her way down to the unforgiving earth. Entering the building she sits down with her back to the wall and her eyes to the door. She orders a late breakfast and draws in the conversation of the locals, attempting to discern whether her worries were well founded.
Vernonia gets up and approaches the elf who is consoling the farmer.
"What happened at his farm? Is it near the woods?"
I turn and smile at the welcome arrival to the conversation, "His woods are right up against the Border Woods, yeah. How did you know?"
"It seems that most of the talk around here has been about that area. I was going to head that way and see what I could find. If you are headed towards this farm maybe we could travel together."
Looks like this is one of those convergences, for sure. Baxter realizes sighing and moving up to the bar. He pulls himself up onto a stool near the drunkard and the talking adventurers and taps the bar to get the barkeeps attention.
"Do you have milk?" he asks, his tail swaying as it trails off the stool. "I'd like some, heated up in a mug."
The ratfolks voice is squeaky, yet not annoyingly so. he catches the eye of one of the adventurers when they look at him and he waves a hand. "Hello." he says.
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As Lars scans the room for signs of Teppen, he first notices and then begins to listen in on a growing group of people talking about the woods, or farmland adjacent to the woods. He's not sure from this distance, but if there's an unofficial rescue party being formed, that's definitely something that he would want to get in on. He moves over to where they are just after they're joined in proximity by a Ratfolk.
But of an odd group, he muses to himself. Not that I'm exactly normal around here either.
"Excuse me," he says, trying to insert himself into the discussion while also standing as impressively as he can. "I'm sorry to eavesdrop, but did you folks say you were heading to check out the woods?" He rests a hand conspicuously on the hilt of his sword. "You'd want to be extra careful if you are. The High Sentinels that usually keep it safe seem to be sleeping on the job recently."
"It seems that most of the talk around here has been about that area. I was going to head that way and see what I could find. If you are headed towards this farm maybe we could travel together."
"Well then, that would be... excellent."
"Hello"
"Ah, erm, Hello" is that... is he... a ratfolk? that is so cool! "Are you local?"
"Excuse me,I'm sorry to eavesdrop, but did you folks say you were heading to check out the woods? You'd want to be extra careful if you are. The High Sentinels that usually keep it safe seem to be sleeping on the job recently."
Wow, that's a big guy. Got that real tough look, like my cousin, Kaleana: more than just swagger.
"Well, I, er... yeah, looks like we're heading that way. You fancy coming along?"A proper group of explorers, eh? I hope we can rope in the squeaker too... 'squeaker'? what's wrong with you Voronwe. You sound like Baswindles! I hope he's not a mind-reader...
Ysabella has overheard enough, if they plan to investigate I should tag along. I can help out and gather information. She walks up to the group with a swagger in her step. She wears a cloak that masks her slight frame and carries a greatsword almost as large as herself. Her features are soft, but very faint scars in all kinds of strange patterns cover every inch of visible skin. Her voice is even softer than her features when she speaks, "It sounds like you are all planning on investigating these odd occurances. You can count me in too." She crosses her arms and plants herself in the conversation as though her words alone confirm her place in the group.
"No, I am not a local." Baxter replies, taking his mug and pouring some dark powder into it. A smell of cocoa and some kind of minty spice wafts from the cup as he stirs it. "I came to see if the signs of trouble were as wide as I feared." he sips at his drink. "They are." he concludes. "Think of it this way, enough stuff has happened that four... Five disparate strangers have assembled in a tavern to discuss what they can do about it. Thats a sign that things are serious."
He takes another sip, sighing. "But so long as we aren't here to kill a dragon, I think it would be manageable."
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"He might not be local," Lars says, pointing at the Ratfolk, "But I am, and I'm definitely interested in coming along. I'm Lars, by the way. Lars Gustafsson. Who are you all?" He offers firm handshakes all around to the party that seems to be forming.
Vernonia takes Lars hand and introduces herself.
"I am Vernonia, a cleric in the service of Gozreh. I have been sent here to look into the unseasonal weather. Imbalance in seasons is bad for everyone. It sounds like there are several places to start. This poor fellow seems to have had some trouble at his farm. Do you know him or where his farm is?"
The farmer looks up at the group now gathering around him and Voronwe. "Oh wow, you guys actually plan to do something about this? Oh that's fabulous. Oh oh I could show you my farm and where the buggers have pulled my crops out."
As the farmer gleefully smiles at you all, the Silver Stoat's door opens and an average looking woman with short hair in a pony tail enters. She is holding a piece of paper and makes her way over to the tavern's bartender. The farmer quickly stands up and starts waving his arm as he calls out "Teppen, Teppen!" and the woman stops to look over at you all. She then cocks her head to the right for a moment as if slightly amused to see so many people gathered at the tavern, let alone midday.
The woman turns and makes her way over to the farmer. "Malone, who are your friends?" Malone quickly looks at the group and responds "Teppen is the leader of the council here, she might be more of assistance to you all." He burps slightly as he clears his throat.
The woman watches Malone slightly wide eyed. She then turns to face everyone and smiles as she holds out her hand to greet anyone "Hello. You can call me Ionnia. Malone here is a good man but I am wondering why he's in the tavern so early in the day." Malone displays slight guilt on his face.
Ysabella eyes the council woman up and down then offers a polite nod and a hand to shake, "It seems someone has been stealing his crops. We have all offered to lend a hand in protecting them and possibly catching the perpetrator."
Just who I was looking for, thinks Lars, smiling, before he has a proper chance to answer whether he knows the farmer or his farm. What luck!
"Indeed," he agrees with the tattooed woman. "Although I came to be in their company while looking for you, actually. I had been wondering if there were any official actions being planned into the forest to go after Lady Argentea? I worry that both that attack and Malone's theft are symptoms of the same problem, and either the High Sentinels are missing or they're being overwhelmed with it, too. I think if they were capable of helping they would have done so already."
I look around the group, That's the way of it.
Ionnia holds up the paper she had in her hand and hands it out to the group. ”Um, yes I was about to post this in the tavern after I sought permission from Kale. I wanted to see if we could find some people to rescue the Lady. She’s a good friend of the village and a very sweet lass. Yuln believes she is still alive and said her family will more than likely pay a handsome reward for her return. If you’re interested I could bring you to him?”
The paper has a picture of the woman Lady Argentea Malassene, and Ionnia hands it to you.
The ratfolk will watch the conversation, realizing that they have apparently decided that he was included in the group. He continues to sip at the drink, and glances at the artistic rendering of the lady. If given a moment, he commits the appearance to memory.
"Has anyone heard of a talking elk?" he asks, curious. "One of the young children almost died because he was following one. I wonder if there's a connection."
Ysabella considers their options, "There are multiple cases to investigate it seems, but they may be connected. Perhaps if we find Lady Malassene we will find the root of these recent troubles."
Vernonia listens to all of the other and nods her head in agreement.
"Who is Yuln and what is his connection to Lady Malassene?"
Ionnia responds to Vernonia, "Yuln is one of the bodyguards of Argentea's caravan. He survived the attack and followed bandits and also some sort of creatures until he couldn't anymore and turned around to seek help. He almost made it to the village but one of the locals found him near dead out in a field nearby. We brought him to the Willowbark Apothecary because he was badly frostbitten. Perhaps if you speak with him you can gain more insight. He is just now coming to and informed us the Lady is alive and to send a rescue party."
"Then that definitely sounds like it should be our first stop," Lars agrees emphatically. He claps a sympathetic hand on Malone's shoulder. "I'm sorry to leave you hanging like this, my good man. With any luck, solving this kidnapping will lead to answers for your farm as well, but saving a person's life has to be given more urgency." He turns his attention back to the councilor. "I'm all in. Willowbark Apothecary, you say? Lead on."
Baxter finishes up his drink quickly and slips off the stool. He picks up his pack and shoulders it as the rest of the group moves forward. Hmm... a kidnapping. This may be more interesting than I thought! I should stick around and see if we can unravel this mystery. I'm interested in why they did it.
"I can't disagree." I shake the farmer's hand, "If this does not lead to your solution, I'll try to help you, but for now..." I shrug, "lives may be at stake."
As we follow the councilor, I flick between pages in my spellbook what might prove useful here?
"Let's talk to Yuln and see what he can tell us. Any information we can get may come in handy."
Ionnia leads you out of the Tavern and to the Willowbark Apothecary. A well-tended garden sits in front of this equally neat house. You are led into the house and to a back room where you see a female Elf tending to a sick man in bed. Ionnia says to the woman, "My dear Tessaraea, these people are here to speak to Yuln. Would you mind giving us some privacy?" The woman picks up a few items and swiftly exits the room as Ionnia seems to whisper to the man. She then looks at everyone and introduces Yuln Oerstag. Wrapped in bandages, the Ulfen mercenary's nose, fingers, and toes have taken on a black hue from serious frostbite. Despite his obvious pain, however, he waves the PCs closer to speak with them.
"Ionnia said you wanted to rescue the Lady. Would that I could go with you," he says. "My ancestors would ridicule my lack of valor for fleeing rather than fighting to the end. But I faced enemies that even the greatest warriors in the Linnorm Kingdoms have faltered against, though I think I slew at least one of them before they dragged Lady Argentea away."
"I am sure you ancestors will forgive you for going for help rather than throwing your life away. Tell us what happened. Start from the beginning of the attack."
Lars stands somber and silent for a moment. It's a little eerie seeing Yuln like this, almost like seeing a glimpse of his own possible future. It's not a reason to despair, only to make sure to be as careful as possible going forward to avoid the same result.
"Indeed," he agrees with Vernonia. "Leave no detail aside. Were they men or beasts?"
Yuln begins, "We thought they were just bandits at first-outlaws who hide like wolves in the forest. They were no match for us. But then came the cold fey of the north. They appeared among us and the battle turned quickly. My people speak of the winter-touched all the time, but I never expected to meet them this far south."
Lars gets a very grumpy look on his face. "Fey," he practically growls. "That takes all of the joy out of this lovely cold snap. I'm sure the temperatures and the winter-touched are probably linked together, but as to which one brought which? Both options seem absurdly unlikely." He strokes his beard for a moment and then realizes he's rambling unhelpfully.
"I always have a handful of cold iron arrows, just in case," he says, looking around at the new group that's assembling. "Do any of you likewise possess weapons to deal with these creatures? Or perhaps the resources to acquire some before we almost assuredly meet these winter-touched in combat?"
"I have some fund if there are any available in town. We can check with the armory and talk to the local smith. We may also need cold weather gear."
Turning to councilor Ionnia, "Can you help us acquire this gear?
"I could use some sling bullets made of cold iron, if they're available." Baxter admits.
Ysabella sighs deeply, Fey of the north? It seems more and more likely the Winter Witches are involved. "Put a cold iron blade in my hand and I have no issue facing the fey, but even without it I won't just stand down." She leans toward Yuln and offers him a smile both vicious and empathetic, and whispered words of comradery, "It seems out enemies have aligned my friend. I would have taken on this task either way, but know that I will tackle this with my utmost ferocity."
"I'm not really much use with weapons but maybe a few arrows might make a diference?"
Yuln agrees, "Yes, with cold iron and burning flame. Both burn them, and both are weapons they fear. These Fey creatures who have sworn themselves to the White Witches of Irrisen, those who stole our lands from us during the Winter War. Tiny sprites no taller than the length of a man's forearm. But don't be fooled by their small stature. Legends say they have taken a sliver of ice into their hearts, and their touch bears the harsh bite of winter." He pauses for a moment and then continues, "They took Lady Argentea into the forest, back through the ice and snow. Beyond that, I don't know. I followed as far as I could, but the winter-touched were too many and too hard to fend off in the snow alone. I barely escaped, and rode to seek help here. I don't know why they would want her. But if one of the White Witches took her, no good shall come of it. The winter-touched do nothing without the leave of those who placed the ice in their hearts. If they're here, it's because a White Witch sent them. And much worse will follow."
Ionnia responds to Vernonia, "No sorry, but if you have some funds you could visit the General Store."
Lars stands quiet with nothing to add at the moment. For his own part, he's pretty confident that he's ready for the particulars of this expedition as-is. He understands, however, that things can only go smoother the more people are similarly prepared, so while he's eager to get going as soon as possible, he wouldn't begrudge a trip to a store in search of cold iron equipment. Knowing that his cold iron arrows will be useful in the immediate future, he'd probably spend some cash on a bigger stockpile if they were going there anyway just so he wouldn't have to worry about saving them for something more important later.
While he'd moved away from home while still pretty young, he knows well his people's longstanding feud with the witches of Irrisen, and the opportunity to potentially stick it to them, or at the very least their minions, is only adding more fuel to the fires of his desire to help, beyond just the eagerness to save a life and be rewarded for doing so.
Vernonia heads for the General Store to see if there is any winter clothing and gear available.
When she arrives she asks the proprietor, " Sir, this may seem a strange request but some friends and I are going to investigate the kidnapping of Lady Argentia. It seems that winter fey are involved and that they have turned the area south of here into a frozen winter-land. We need warm clothing and cold weather gear to get us through the area. Do you happen to have any?"