Damn, its cold!
It has been more than a month since you left Magnimar, far to the South. You have been fortunate that Grinim and Leidra have not been trying to hide their path, but you have no idea what has drawn them as far north as the Land of Linnorm Kings. Between the length of the journey and getting outfitted for cold weather gear, the healthy retainer you were paid to bring Leidra home is almost gone. Since the ship dropped you at Iceferry it has been a trek across Ulfen lands , west towards Adeifar, when you arrive at a small town, hoping to find somewhere warm to stay the night. The settlement should be called Rybalka according to the merchant you passed three days ago.
As the cold seeps into your bones and you try to stamp feeling into your feet, you realize that it should start to get warmer soon. This is Minternacht, as the Ulfen call it, the longest and coldest night of the year. Definitely a night to find a warm inn with a roaring fire rather than be out on the range.
As you make your way down the street you realize that the expected murmur of activity is missing and that the settlement of Rybalka seem ominously quiet and cold. Then rounding a building, you spot a group of villagers carrying torches towards the large stone cathedral on the edge of town. Following them, you see they rap on the doors, which are opened for a brief moment, allowing a sound of voices to escape along with some light and heat, causing the air to steam. The interior of the building is bathed in warm, inviting reds and oranges, sharply contrasting the cold whites and blues of the snow and ice surrounding you in the darkness outside.
You suddenly feel quite vulnerable standing out here all alone. The last of the villagers round the bend and pass by you, heading for the cathedral. "You coming!?" one of the women calls, her voice suggesting that any other choice would be madness.
Ravin nods at the woman's grave tone, and follows, despite not being sure what exactly he's being led into... ...or maybe away from, based on the sudden chill that's got nothing to do with the cold... There are far too many tales that begin with nights like this... And the longest night, too....
He snaps out of his own thoughts just in time to catch his balance, "Blasted boots. Still don't know why anyone would want to live somewhere you can't go barefoot. "
Torrosk trudges through the snow, head bowed so the cowl of his cloak deflects most of the wind. Looking up at the woman, he bends his head against the wind once more and makes his way to the cathedral.
Unclear what he's in for, but trusting in Lady Luck to lead him as ever, Finn pulls his cloak tight around him trying unsuccessfully to keep back the cold wind, and follows the crowd into the cathedral. He looks carefully at the villagers, trying to discern the reason for the hubhub.
Looking around at the gathering villagers, Finn sees fear kindling on their faces and in their movements. Mothers hug children close, women cast worried glances at their man-folk. He gets the sense that something isn't right here.
Half-consciously, his hand falls to his lucky silver piece, which he keeps in his pocket. "Lady, save us from whatever is coming. Give us your blessing as we enter into harm's way." he prays softly while waiting for events to unfold.
Jonnie walked along the town streets, thankful that she had bundled up to disguise the elfin features often intimidating to humans and other similar species. Now her bundles and layers protected her from the gathering chill.
The mage was an expert in manipulating elemental magic. The ray of frost spell served as a good test to create some fire. Jonnie had cleverly found an assortment of large rocks. Occasionally she would take them from her pockets, place them on the ground, and warm them up with a blast of a ray of fire.
Hearing the call to enter a large communal building, Jonnie went in to get out of the cold and study these curious humans as they gathered together.
Radavek brings up the rear of the party. His gaze lingers on the woman's back as she hurries past toward the cathedral. It's cold, but at least the buildings and the trees slow the wind. Not like the winterbound north Storval plain in my uncles' tales.
"Wait up!" Radavek's long legs move quickly and he begins to close on the party as they move toward the cathedral.
Jonnie turns and nods as Radavek catches up. She asks in carefully annunciated common as if speaking clearly is needed.
"These colloquial terms, like wait up, are somewhat curious. I can understand the wait, but the up part still confuses me from a linguistics perspective. Can you explain why the up is appended to the wait, it is quite curious?"
The elven woman is definitely puzzled. You do notice she seems to be taking notes.
"Why the gathering, a communal heat sharing ceremony perhaps?"
Jonnie offers the Varisian a heated rock. She seems interested in what he does with it. You suspect that may go in the journal too.
The halfling smirks, "Because waiting to the side assumes someone's going to pass you, and waiting down is just unpleasant. We don't say 'wait over' in case someone who barely speaks Taldan thinks that means they can go, now, and I think a 'wait under' costs at least 3 crowns at a good brothel." He stops and turns, a concerned look on his face, "I can give you a list of some of those in Korvosa, if you need them for prosperity."
He then turns and starts walking again, chuckling, then stops, "Since we're heading to a church, we're likely seeking its protection against something more sinister than the cold. Whether it's ceremonial or our lives are actually in danger we'll find out soon enough."
Radavek's smile broadens; he's clearly pleased with Ravin's snappy rejoinder. "What he said."
His expression turns a shade more somber. "Definitely not heat sharing. That would probably be outside with a really large bonfire. Ravin's pegged the most likely reasons, religious gathering, or mutual defense. That church is built like a fortress."
Radavek accepts the rock with mumbled thanks. He turns it idly in his gloved hands as if pondering what to do. After a few seconds he slips it under his jacket and hums with satisfaction at the comforting warmth.
Ravin would keep casting light on his buckler.
Torrosk let's out a short growl. "Let's keep moving, and your questions about what is going on in the cathedral will be answered once we get in out of the damned cold."
No rock for you.
Not sure how to handle the snappy rejoinders, Jonnie follows inside, taking the time to zap two more rocks with a ray of fire before dropping them into her boots first.
As it appears that the entire town may be congregating at the Cathedral and it looks to be warm inside, the party follows the last stragglers towards the large building and enters into the warm light inside.
About 10 feet inside the doors of the building, by an open pair of finely-carved wooden swing-gates representing the rising sun, an imposing man greets each villager with a personal message or a reassuring and guiding hand on the shoulder. You hear words such as, “evenin’ mayor,” or “the Light be with you, Igor,” as you get closer.
He looks at you with a warmth not usually associated with such portentous meetings, and says, “Well met, friends. For we are all friends tonight. Find a place to sit and enjoy the service. The day’s dawn will herald new events for all of us. Yuri! Some seats for my compatriots!”
At this final call, a man looks up from halfway down the cathedral and beckons you forward.
The one apparently called Yuri helps move the crowd from a section of benches and beckons for you to sit down in the available space. Once places are found for you and you take your seats, those around you offer greetings and ask your names. Their welcome is genuine and heartfelt, reflecting that the coming service is a period of warmth and rebirth.
Ravin greets his hosts with a grin and a f flourish-filled bow. "Thank you for your hospitality and welcome... Especially on so cold and long a night. "
"We are well met, here in the coldest place on Golarion," quips Finn as the introductions start. "I am Finn from Magnimar in Varisia to the south. We are here chasing after a run-away bride at the behest of her parents. It is my great honor to meet you on the road, and greet you in Desna's name, as all travelers should!"
He performs a sweeping bow going perhaps a bit over the top.
The mayor smiles broadly at your formal greetings saying, "While good manners are appreciated, it is best we get in out of the dark quickly. I'm sure we can speak later, after the rites have been seen to."
Yuri directs you to your seats as the Mayor greets some other stragglers.
Jonnie files in and bows to the man welcoming them.
She takes a seat near the back (Placed on Map)
A bit abashed, Finn takes his seat where indicted by the fellow Yuri curious to see what this is all about. He arches a questioning eyebrow at Torrosk to see if the inquisitor has any ideas about the gathering.
Radavek nods and mumbles a greeting to the mayor as he passes by.
After following Yuri and the others to a bench, he unslings his pack and eases it down unto the floor at his feet. Smiling, he looks all around before slowly sitting. These people seem friendly. I wonder what this will be like.
While the exterior of the cathedral is gray stone, the interior is built of the lustered wood from local trees, as are the simple benches which serve as pews and line the hall on both sides from front to back. A large, crackling fire on a raised plinth burns brightly, bathing the weathered and wrinkled faces of the villagers in an otherworldly, surreal, flickering orange glow.
"The fire is never allowed to die," says a villageman seated near you, recognizing you as a stranger. "The crackling? ‘Tis said to be the spirits of warriors long since passed from this world. They talk to us, not to warn us or teach us, but to bathe us in their glory so that we might remember the sacrifices those that came before us made for their children and grandchildren. War is never an easy affair, and those who fight are swept up and away, sometimes lost in the minds of kings and queens. Here, on civilization’s edge, we remember those that brought light to our lives, and to this day they give us vision, warmth, and shelter. Juriendor has shown us such things; soon he’ll arrive to share more wisdom."
You engage in conversation as the eve has a festive feel about it.
• Juriendor is the High Priest of the Rybalka cathedral and venerates a rather distant god of war, yet is tolerant of anyone’s deity if they show the same respect for what others believe in.
• Tonight is the longest night of the year, which is the reason for the ceremony.
• The Ulfen that originally built this village held a ritualistic ceremony on this day to ensure that the lightness returned after darkness reigns.
• Juriendor adopted the ceremony after experiencing annual attacks from the Dark Wood on this night.
• During previous attacks, many villagers were killed, including a small boy whose father later committed suicide. Juriendor feels responsible and wishes he could have better protected the village from the darkness and the threats of the Dark Wood.
• Since adopting the ceremony no more attacks have occurred and the village has been kept safe.
Mayor Igor Leonid overhears the conversation and joins the discussion, informing you that:
• The High Priest is in possession of an artifact called the moonshard, used in the ritual to protect the village.
• The moonshard comes from another world.
• Some say the moonshard fell from the moon itself during an intense Ulfen ritual hundreds of years ago.
After a while, the discussion subsides and a patient expectation settles over the crowd.
Torrosk looks at the villager, "The fire talks to you? What is it telling you now?"
The villager looks perplexed a moment, then smiles warmly. "Well, I'm not so holy that I hear voices. It is more just a sense of well-being, knowing that the light protects us."
Ravin smiles, "It does a wonderful job of keeping away the dark and the cold."
"When my people gather around the fire, they also remember those who have gone before with stories. And we dance and sing to celebrate them and our life."
Finn is apparently not that impressed with the fire and the ceremony, sitting on edge waiting for soemthing (anything) to happen. He fidgets and squirms, clearly uncomfortable and ready for action. His mind spins with the thoughts of rolling dice, turning cards, and the clink of coins in his purse while the villagers drone on incessantly.
Jonnie takes good notes and looks for this Juriendor fellow with anticipation. Maybe he will be inspiring and smell better than the rest of the crowd.
As the crowd continues to chat merrily, eventually midnight approaches and a young acolyte appears descending a staircase near the front gates. He walks through the crowd toward the flaming altar and the people turn to face him, their smiles broad as they fall quiet. As they do so, they twist away from the light of the fire and their faces become darkened.
Then Juriendor appears on the stairway, moving toward the front of the room, his face lit up—as the gaze of the congregation follows him, the individual faces become equally illuminated. The High Priest is dressed in celestial platemail armor, its legendary sheen there for all to see.
One of the townsfolk calls out, "guide us through the Darkness so that there may be Light!” Others begin to shout phrases such as, "Juriendor, please guide us!" and, "protect us from the Dark Wood devils! Bestow us with Light!"
As Juriendor walks past you, he seems to notice your armor and weapons and recognizes you as strangers. He mentions quietly to you: "greetings, you are welcome to attend the Vigil for Light; to be safe from the Darkness, please remain inside the cathedral. At this hour, dangers abound outside. We can speak later once the moonshard
has given us its dawn." He then continues on towards the large fire at the front of the Cathedral.
Once at the front of the cathedral, Juriendor pulls a long wooden torch from the wall and lights it from the large brazier at the center and end of the hall. It momentarily glows as brightly as if daylight had been cast, and everyone within the hall instantly appears warm and comforted.
The High Priest chants a prayer, and all of the villagers join him. It sounds complex, a drone of intertwining ideas that seem more suited to a shaman than a clergyman. After long minutes have passed, the chant fades and the silence hangs heavy in the air. Then Juriendor pulls a small wooden box from within his robes. The box is finely carved and looks quite old and worn. As he slowly lifts the lid, something dark gray begins to shine with a crisp starlight, followed by a pulsing blue-yellow glow which envelopes his face. Children in the crowd to gasp and call out, "the moonshard!" —they’re quickly hushed as the high priest carefully raises a small glowing stone shard from the box, holding it high for all to see.
Juriendor begins to call out words you cannot understand, their power growing, and with each one the brightness of the light increases. Juriendor’s appearance and walk up the aisle has allowed villagers to move into the light, and some now sit cross-legged on the floor—there is also more space now for those who are standing around the sides and towards the back of the cathedral.
Suddenly, almost as if part of the ritual, the doors to the cathedral burst open and the ceremonial gates rattle wildly in the blast. Two men—weapons on their backs and dressed in battered armor—stagger into the room, one carrying a badly injured individual.
"Help us, please! Help us now! We require healing and our friend is at Death's door! The evils of the Dark Woods are too many, too foul. Another ally outside is turned to stone, yet I dare say that no one within these walls would fancy to face what lurks without!”
Ravin pauses for a moment, trying to determine if this is, in fact, part of the show, then rushes over, the words to his healing spell on his lips as he approaches. He says, "Let me touch him and close the wounds. "
The elven woman jumps up and looks around anxiously. She takes a moment to see if the drama is similar to elven supper theatre. Often cloistered, the elves had take to reenacting dramatic scenes from their history rather than look for new ones for themselves. It was common to add this drama to a fine gourmet meal with a nice wine. Long live gave elves a jaded perspective which did not fit Jonnie's inquisitive nature.
Jonnie was about to stand up and applaud the dramatic performance, when she realized the drama was real. The quick-thinking man was healing the injured newcomer. She adroitly changed her applause to a quick clap of shock and rushed to the man in charge.
Elves had been known to pursue the Brightness, an indicator of a higher calling. This fight to preserve light and stave off darkness was just like the legendary choice given to the elves. Pursuing the light was said to be rewarded with a reincarnation in the form of a primal creature of legend. Jonnie was up to the task and moved toward the man of power with awe and reverence in her eyes.
Finn found himself captivated by the High Priest, just as he the people were. Their need, to have a hero, a light, was almost a hunger, he saw. It was palpable and priest fed off it. "Must be a trick of some kind," muttered Finn to himself, remembering the cons he used to pull on people. "Get 'em trusting you, and then take em for all they got."
Just as he mutters this last, the doors blow open and the battle worn and wounded men enter. Finn, shakes his head clearing fuzziness there that the ceremony had created in him.
"What manner of devilry walks in the Dark Wood, man?" cries the cleric of Desna. "And you came you to feel its insidious touch?"
Radavek watches raptly as Juriendor speaks. The young Varisian cranes his neck for a good view over the crowd. What is the moonshard? Has it more power than this light?
*** When the warriors burst in ***
He glides behind Ravin, and when the Halfling stops to cure the wounded man, Radavek passes behind him on the way to the door. He sweeps off his heavy cloak for better access to his weapons and stares into the dark.
Torrosk leans his head back towards the commotion, and seeing that there's no immediate danger raises with a soft grunt and sigh, and heads towards the doorway, sliding just to the side so that the light from the chapel doesn't disturb his darkvision and looks towards where the men said the trouble was.
"Whatever you are, you're disturbing my warmth..."
Mayor Leonid calls out. “Some help here, quickly!” And stops to lend what aid he can, thanking Ravin for his healing. As he sees Torrosk and Radavek staring into the darkness he shouts, "Are you mad!? Close the doors!" Then rushes forward to force the doors closed, shutting out the darkness.
Juriendor stops his ritual, places the moonshard back into the box and rushes to approach the injured men, beginning to cure the recently wounded adventurers as fast as he can when he reaches them. Soon all the adventurers are healed of their wounds. A worried buzz permeates the crowd as the harmony of the ritual was interrupted by violence.
Torrosk moves slowly forward until he can get a better look at what's out there. If it seems the figures are retreating, he'll move towards the litter to try and rescue the man turned into a statue.
Torrosk moves slowly forward until he can get a better look at what's out there. If it seems the figures are retreating, he'll move towards the litter to try and rescue the man turned into a statue.
[dice=perception]1d20
Torrosk looks at the wheeled litter, and shakes his head, sadly, if the man is stone, there isn't much to be done for him, and he should be safe. Still, Torrosk moves to the doorway, "The man turned to stone is just outside, we can get him if you can hold the door for a few moments longer"
Radavek edges forward so that he is squarely in the doorway. "Torrosk? If he's stone we're going to need help to drag him in."
Jonnie looks at the man with the light.
Why does not everyone listen to him. The darkness may be dangerous.
Finn bends down to see the wounds on the man, and whatever can be done to bind them.
Not an expert in healing, he doesn't recognize anything special about the serious wounds fo the man. He tries his best to staunch the bleeding and care for the man's injuries but again is fumbling doeesn't seem to be of much use.
The mayor seems nearly apoplectic and is gathering townspeople to help him force the door closed. With Torrosk eventually giving way and the doors closing again, attention turns to the injured adventurers who have arrived. With Juriendor getting involved, the healing goes quickly and the adventurers appear grim but grateful.
Their apparent leaders turns to Torrock and says grimly, "Thanks for trying to help our companion, but I don't know what dragging his stone corpse in here would have done. I can't imagine anything out there will try to harm a statue."
With that the Mayor comes over and tries to get everyone to return their attention to the ceremony and you can see Juriendor has returned to his place by the fire.
Ravin says, gently, "I've heard of magic that can undo such things, though it is certainly far beyond me. Still, hope is not lost for your companion."
The crowd eventually settles back down and people return to their seats. The new arrivals express gratitude for the sanctuary and healing, and are found seats in the Cathedral. The one addrssed by Ravin replies, "Aye, there is hope for him, but nothing immediate can be done. Not out in the Darkness. Do not venture out there, my friend."
Juriendor restarts his ceremony, and the atmosphere in settles down into the now familiar lull. However, just as Juriendor appears to be reaching a climax in the incantations, the doors to the cathedral fly open. A sudden snowstorm blows in, revealing itself by dumping yet more thick white flakes over the small village. This storm—doubled with the winds whipping through from Serpent Lake—causes a considerable ruckus on its own, even without the noise made by a
group of hunters blown into the building.
The Mayor quickly approaches them, attempting to get them seated and reduce the interruption, however the hunters suddenly brandish flaring torches aloft and start to set fires to the very fabric of the cathedral itself. "Let Light come to us all!" one shouts out; "drive off the darkness with the Light of the Heavens!" another calls, as she encourages flames to ignite a hanging tapestry; they take a grip, then crawl up the material like a spider while another intruder breaks the wooden front gates down and tries to light the lacquered carving.
While the mayor deals with a hunter toward the front doors and with the rest of the congregation unsure what exactly is happening, Juriendor ceases the ceremony and calls out in your direction, "You there, please help! These are good men and women of the village; they must be under a curse’s influence. Please stop them, but do them no harm!"
Jurendor seems torn on whether to finish the ceremony or take action, eventually his indecision breaks as he carefully sets down the box he was holding and rushes towards a hunter.
Ravin sighs, "Couldn't just all stand together and make this easy, could you?"
He draws his rapier and begins to sing a pointed, sharp song about a group of fools that burn down their home in their attempt to fight off the cold, the disdain obvious in his voice.
Jonnie steps and directs a spray of colors engulfing the two closest humans out to cause problems.
School illusion (pattern) [mind-affecting]; Level sorcerer/wizard 1
Casting Time 1 standard action
Components V, S, M (red, yellow, and blue powder or colored sand)
Range 15 ft.
Area cone-shaped burst
Duration instantaneous; see text
Saving Throw Will negates; Spell Resistance yes
A vivid cone of clashing colors springs forth from your hand, causing creatures to become stunned, perhaps also blinded, and possibly knocking them unconscious. Each creature within the cone is affected according to its HD.
2 HD or less: The creature is unconscious, blinded, and stunned for 2d4 rounds, then blinded and stunned for 1d4 rounds, and then stunned for 1 round. (Only living creatures are knocked unconscious.)
3 or 4 HD: The creature is blinded and stunned for 1d4 rounds, then stunned for 1 round.
5 or more HD: The creature is stunned for 1 round.
Sightless creatures are not affected by color spray
Radavek stands quickly and whirls toward the hunters. Noting the torches in their hands, he draws his dagger.
He dashes down the aisle to the east and shouts at the hunter by the door. (south corner of the door) Raising his dagger to parry any strike from the hunter's torch he steps in close and drives his fist at the hunter's face.
... damage