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.
Freyja, awake and with a mug of hot tea before her, sat with quill and paper and penned words to a new song about old Mother Theodora. Hard to both make it funny and also respectful to the wise woman, but she almost had it. She occupied an as out of the way corner as she could manage in the common room of the Shoat. Morning light poured through the window and a new fire crackled merrily in the grate. Menander was mopping up and shot her a warm smile as he worked. He and Kale were glad to have her at their tavern and quite pleased with providing her a free spot to sleep in front of the fire a hot meal in exchange for her singing in the evenings. Truth be told word of Freyja's singing was spreading and business was better than it had been for quite some time. They were already running low on this barrel of Three Devil Ale and later today he would need to go down into the cellar and roll up another.
Freyja liked Heldren well enough but had not made any progress in regard to her reason for visiting this small hamlet. It seems no one had heard of her father or seen any traveler that matched his description. Perhaps she had arrived before him. This was a long way out of the way and she hated to think her leads had been totally wrong. She would give it a few more days at least, especially now with the weather turning bad. It might not be good to be traveling in this weather, especially with all the rumors of bandits and worse on the roads.
And poor Lady Argentea. If what she had heard from that mercenary were true, well someone needed to do something. Perhaps she would try to organize a group to go and have a look at the ambush site. She would go and talk to Isker Euphram about that. He seemed to know what's what when it came to organizing defenders and such. Best to know what the town is up against, right? She had already asked around and picked up a few rumors. The Shoat was good for that, and she had made some good impressions here. Some of what she heard might even be right.
Finishing her song she brushed sand across the parchment to speed the drying ink and put her tools away. She moved to the fire to get warm one more time before heading out to look for the smith.
Evelina, a young Taldan woman of small stature, arrived in Hedren only this morning and has been hovering around outside of the tavern for a little over an hour. On the ground in front of her is small open coin sack with a few mere copper pieces. Attempting to entertain those passing the tavern for coin, she currently has a rapier in hand, as she excitedly tells a story to a little girl and her mother.
"...and so our brave hero jabbed at the skeleton over an' over. But hard as she tried, she just couldn't hit the darn thing. It kept on wiggling and jiggling and Cora's rapier just slipped right through gaps in the bones, again and again!" Evelina imitates the wiggling skeleton, earning a giggle from the little girl. " Finally, the half-orc warrior, got real frustrated and shouted, 'Whatcha doin' Cora!?! You can't stab a skeleton. You gotta smash 'em. Everybody knows that!' But Cora just threw her arms up in the air. 'I only have a rapier! How am I s'posed to smash him!?!' But with the town in danger, she couldn't give up, could she? So, she started lookin' round the room for something...anything... But there was nothing. The only thing in the room was a table full of old rotten food that the poor souls never got the chance to eat 'cause the necromancer attacked! So, in an act of desperation, Cora ran to the table and grabbed the huge cheese wheel and just chucked it at the skeleton. But lady luck smiled down upon her that day! Turned out the cheese was so old it had become rock hard. So that big, smelly ole block of cheese went flyin' straight at the skeleton...and knocked his head right off!
As the little girl's mother starts to look concerned about the worsening weather, Evelina begins to wrap up her story. However, when she holds up her coin purse expectantly, the mother quickly breaks eye contact and starts to pull her child away. Evelina lets out a deep sigh, her breath visible in the air. As the little girl turns to wave goodbye, Evelina puts on a brave face, smiling and returning the wave. But, as soon as the family is out of eyesight, she slumps backwards against the wall, sliding all the way down into the snow. Rubbing her hands together for warmth, she thinks. This was a terrible idea. What am I going to do now? ...and why is everyone so darn skittish?
The sun had tiptoed into the sky, afraid to wake the sleepers below - but Astrid awakes to its call as usual, letting out a long groan. Her breath fogs in the cold morning air, and her pile of sleeping furs may have been rough and smelled slightly of musk and tanning chemicals, but damn if they weren't warm. And when her stirring triggers a splitting headache, the groan only intensifies. Maybe I shouldn't've had that last ale...or the fortified wine...or that halfling's dragon whiskey...
But something about the Border Wood she'd left two days ago had left her shaken, something she couldn't put her finger on. It wasn't the cold - the cold had never bothered her anyway. Moving kept her warm better than anything, and when it was time to rest a sheltered campspot, stones warmed in the fire, and another fur on the pile was plenty to see her through until morning.
But with the cold had come an...unease, a dread, almost. Something she couldn't place, couldn't explain...but it had drilled deep into her core, past the self-assurance of experience, the stolid stubbornness she'd inherited from her father, the cockiness in the heart of every Ulfen. And something that could scare her, one of the Lord in Iron's chosen...if it had been a charging boar, a wolf pack, even fey causing trouble, she'd have stood her ground, faced the trouble head on, taken out whatever had the nerve to challenge her. But how could you fight something that might not even be real?
So she'd come back to Heldren and pitched her tent in the shadow of the tower, as she did twice or thrice a year. She brought the strips of deer and boar meat she'd managed to cure before the summer grew cold, the herbs medicinal and flavorful she'd been asked to gather, the carcass of a small buck she'd brought down with an arrow on her way into the small town. (With as nervous as the buck had been, the kill had hardly seemed sporting, but meat and hide were money, and the head was big enough to make a half-decent trophy, if the Garimoses were willing to barter it for a few rounds of ale and a meal.) She'd made her usual stops - Perkin's to have the deer butchered, Vivialla's store to barter for cloth and spices, Old Mother Theodora's to drop off some herbs in exchange for a soothsaying.
The last stop had been the Silver Stoat - Kale hadn't much fancied the buck trophy, but Menander was always looking for fresh meat for his famous stew, and there was plenty of venison left over to buy her drinks and meal for the night. It'd started with just one ale to accompany her stew, as she watched the new singer perform and grinned in spite of herself at the witty blend of praise and good-natured mockery. Then the first was so good she'd gotten another - it was more trouble than it was worth to carry beer to the forest with her, and she preferred to keep her senses sharp when she was in the wood anyway. Her town visits were really the only time she cut loose, and she wanted to put the dread of the forest behind her. And then a halfling man had challenged her to down what he had called dragon punch whiskey, which she'd done with nary a splutter, and another woman had called for a round of brandy...
Still groaning, Astrid shuffles inside her tent, pulling her cloak over the clothes she's slept in, half-tumbling outside into the brisk morning, and retrieving her greatsword for her morning exercises. She'd heard mutters in the tavern last night that a noblewoman had gone missing; the huge Ulfen woman was of half a mind to ask about where the woman had disappeared, see if she could follow the path her kidnappers had taken. After all, there were few nearby as good as her at following a trail, though she'd heard of a Varisian girl who was making a bit of a splash with a trained wolf. If that didn't work out, she'd ask after Old Man Dansby - crops going missing sounded like scavengers of some kind, and maybe she'd be able to lend a hand tracking them down.
As she enters town to ask at the Stoat if the Garimoses knew of anyone else looking to follow the woman's trail, she sees the girl flailing around with her rapier, jewelry glittering in the morning sun. Hmph. Frippery. With a slight snort of derision, Astrid continues on, asking after what anyone knows about the missing Lady Malassene. Of course, if the High Sentinels were of any use, this wouldn't be a problem...
The cymbal's roll burns through the darkness, ringing through the ears and the blood of the audience as it rises in crescendo.
"Ladies and gentlesirs! Boys and Girls! Children of all ages! WELCOME to the one-hundred-and-thirty-fourth edition of the Guisaprio Brothers' Magical Menagerie! The one! The only! The GRRRRRReatest show on earth! Prepare to be ASTOUNDED! CONFOUNDED! Bewildered and bewitched! For tonight's events..."
Arvanya crouches behind the the billowing stage curtains, watching her friend, Leolui the ringmaster, wading high above the ground on legs at least ten feet tall. Arvanya laughs in excitement, knowing that the children in the audience are marveling at how a man could be so tall. But she knows his secret. She herself has practiced walking on those stilts many times. It gives her mama fits, but her papa only laughs.
The ringmaster finishes his dramatic introduction and somersaults down from his stilts. He lands agilely on his feet as the fire dancers tumble out from beneath the bleachers where they have been hiding. They twirl their flaming batons wildly, the fires licking their oil-slicked skin. The crowd gasps and applauds in excitement.
And now the hulking Ulfan animal trainer Yeosef is leading an adolescent elephant into the ring. Ibajian, Arvanya named him. Ibajian has been trained to sit and catch, and to balance on an enormous chair built especially for his weight. He dips his trunk into a well of water and sprays the audience, causing them to shriek with laughter.
Then the lights dim, the dancers recede from the stage, and the cheers of the audience are muted, as the entire world slows to a crawl. The White Lily, a crowd favorite, floats down on a trapeze. Her lithe and graceful figure is draped in exotic white silks and large ostrich feathers. Even Ibajian, positioned perfectly beneath her, sighs in delight.
Arvanya's mother slips effortless off of her suspended seat and glides into the elephant's saddle. The creature easily carries her weight, circling Yeosef as he directs its movements before kneeling and depositing her in the center of the ring. A handsome acrobat dressed in loose fitting, white pants and matching vest swings in from the side. He hangs upside down, his knees bent expertly to secure his position on the small bar, and scoops up the White Lily as the two are propelled through the air, defying gravity. Their arms lock together, their bodies entwined like lovers in the firelight as they spin. Below, Ibajian carries a trio of clowns who gawk and gesture in amazement.
Arvanya never gets tired of seeing her parents perform. She could watch them forever.
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The cold is biting. Arvanya shivers under her blanket, even dressed in her furs. She twists the blanket tight around herself, trying to will herself back to sleep, to recapture the feeling of her dream.
But it’s no use. The feeling is gone. There is only the icy chill of freezing morning rain trickling down through the gaps in her tent, as though determined to draw her out of her dreams and into cold reality. She lies with her eyes closed and listens to the sound of heavy raindrops on leaves. Beside her, Auryel stirs, sensing the dawn. She curls closer to him, savoring the heat he generates. ”You must love this cold, hmm boy? You’ve never liked the heat, have you?” Auryel merely opens his eyes in response, but keeps his head resting comfortably between his large, white paws. His ears perk up at her voice, at least.
She sighs, drawing herself up and wiping the sleep from her eyes and pulling her sleep-tousled hair back from her face. She peers out beyond the tent’s flap, frowning at the state of things. It will be difficult to start a fire this morning.
As she sits under her makeshift shelter, trying to ignite some dried moss she had set aside, she can’t help but think of Artyo, her childhood friend. Was he in Qadira right now, basking in the warm sun? He had begged her to join him, to explore the vast deserts and make their fortune together. Instead, she has chosen Zimar and its surrounding settlements. She could not see herself as a desert wanderer. Auryel certainly wouldn’t want to go. And… Artyo had made no secret of his feelings for her, professing all in a desperate attempt to persuade her into joining him. Still, she denied him. He had left her in a rage, and she feared their friendship was now over.
At this moment, however, as cold water drips down her neck, she questions her decision. Normal variations in the weather were to be expected, especially this close to sea, but she would never have suspected to see snow in Heldren, especially in midsummer. Why, the pumpkin vines hadn’t even fruited! She wondered what those in town were making of it.
As the rain dies down, she gives up on the fire, instead collecting her gear, bedroll, and tent, and packing everything neatly into her backpack. Over the years she had grown quite good at packing and unpacking, consolidating space, so now the motions were ingrained in her, and all her worldly belongings were secured in a matter of minutes. She calls Auryel to her side and, together, the two make their way toward town, toward the Shoat.
__________
Arriving in town square, Arvanya is greeted with an unexpected thrill. A young woman, short in stature, gestures wildly with a rapier, entertaining a young girl and her mother. Arvanya is reminded of the clowns from her dream and cannot help but smile. After the young one is dragged away, Arvanya approaches and tosses a silver shield into her coin purse. ”I enjoyed your story,” she says warmly. ”But why does a skeleton need its head to function?”
__________
Opening the tavern's door from the inside Freyja stands in the shadows just inside the threshold and takes in an unusual scene. As her eyes adjust to the greater light she sees a young female bravo who seems to have set up shop right outside where Freyja earns her supper. She seemed to have some talent but also looked to lack any formal training. She seems to have drawn a small crowd. As Freyja's eyes adjust she realizes that those gathering are were locals at all but rather some of the new faces she had seen or heard about in the tavern last night.
There was the that Astrid woman, the Ulfin. Her features were common but clearly of the north. Freyja was surprised to see her up this early with all the drink the northern woman put down last night. This could be good. I meant to seek that one out before the day was over. If she is not overly preachy about that god of hers she might make good company.I wonder what she is doing in this small town.
The other woman of note looked more a ranger than anything. And look at the wolf at her side. A magnificent creature. I bet more than one townsperson is unhappy to see such a creature on the square with all the tales of winter monsters about. Some would say one has come among us.
Well nothing to do but to plunge in. she thinks to herself as she steps out and addresses Evelina. You have talent girl. she says in her norther Skald accented common as she flashes Evelina a smile. But you've no real training in the craft or the business of entertaining or you would never have set up outside a tavern without the shop owner's leave. I'll assume you don't know better this time and take no professional offense. And if its some coin you are after and can use that sticker for more than a story prop I've an offer for you. She looks to the other two women that have been drawn together outside the tavern and adds And for the two of you, if you would listen. The Fates have arranged this meeting. Nothing else can explain it I say. Its a sign of Eternal Rose that we 4 travelers stand together on this unseasonably cold morning in this small town of Heldren. Something is amiss and heroes are needed. I was on my way to speak with the smith about going out to investigate the recent attack. All of you would be welcome company in that discussion. She takes a step towards the smith's, pauses and adds I am Freyja, singer and shield maiden. Might I know your names?
Auryel's nostrils flare and his ears perk up as the pretty blonde singer emerges from the Stoat. Auryel shushes him and he sits by her boot with a whine, his panting breath sending little clouds up into the chilly morning air. Her eyebrow arches as Freyja reprimands the storyteller, wondering who the woman thinks she is to lecture a stranger so.
Artists.. she concludes, trying hard not to roll her eyes. "Freyja, yes, you are...performer. I am Arvanya, and this my wolf , Auryel." she says in a thick Varisian accent, focusing heavily on the R's. "It appears there's more talent in town, eh?" She hikes her thumb toward Evelina.
"So, you hear the tales as well? Qadiran mages summoning icy storm. Crop thiefing near Border Wood. Talking, snow-white stags luring children to icy death. Tall as houses, they may be. But no one can argue with tragedy of Lady Malassene, eh? And, of course, the snow."
"So perhaps you are right that something is...amiss, eh? But what does this smith know about all of it?"
Evelina jumps at the unfamiliar voice, not realizing that anyone else had been listening. Jumping up off the ground with impressive agility and quickly straightening her clothes, she grabs the stranger by the hands and begins thanking her profusely. "Thank you! Thank you! You have no idea what this means! You are a real life saver!" Looking down and the snow and feeling the wet and cold seeping through her clothes from just her brief rest, she adds with great sincerity, "No exaggeration. A real life saver. I owe you one."
Caught slightly off guard by the question, but still grinning ear to ear, she scratches her head and responds, "Well, you see when the necromancers make them, they need to put all the magic somewhere...and...well..." Evelina looks at the ground and laughs, ...Ah, you got me. I have no idea. I've never even seen a skeleton. But if I ever meet one, I'll aim for the head and get back to you. Now that's a promise!"
However, as the other woman approaches from within the tavern, Evelina's demeanor immediately changes from cheerful, to that of a child who just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Oh! Um...I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. Honest..." Stammering, she tries to explain the situation with the experience of someone who clearly is used to apologizing, "I just needed the money real bad...but this nice lady here already helped me out. So I'll just be on my way...S...sorry again..."
Evelina, is starting to retreat when the woman begins her proposition. Turning back around, Evelina's demeanor dramatically changes once more, as her look becomes one of total and utter shock. "Wait...? Are you serious? No one put you up to this?" A childlike grin appears on the young woman's face once more. "Oh! I would love to help! Any way I can!" Leaping forward she catches the woman in a sudden embrace, before bouncing backwards. "You won't regret this!"
A cloaked and hooded figure strode into the sleepy hamlet, the windows aglow with firelight and shuttered against the cold. Thick clouds of steam puffed before the hood with each breath, obscuring any sight of the face within but two points of yellow light shone out from the hood's depths. The cold was both blessing and curse today. Few would question the need for keeping a cloak and hood so closely wrapped in weather like this, but there was something unnatural about it. A bitter tang hung upon the air that stiffened the spine and set hair to bristle and stand on end.
I may not be able to stay here long, she thought and an unseen frown formed on the strangers face. She had kept her mouth closed and her ears open when she had familiarized herself with the businesses yesterday. Ill omens abounded in this place and it would not do to be found out by an unsettled and superstitious crowd in times of strife. That was how a fool might find themselves stoned to death, just for showing their ugly face. She was not eager to meet such a cold, brutal end. The thought made her shudder, even though she did not really feel the cold the way others seemed to. She was tempted to skulk into the shadows, but better to walk with head held high. If she should come under suspicion, slipping through the darkness like a thief would not help her case.
She had been pleased to see that people here liked to adorn their homes with fanciful decoration. It boded well for her chances at selling some pieces or her services as an artist. She was pleasantly surprised again to see that the local carpenter was a lively blue haired gnome. The non-human races tended to be more accepting of her and more willing to deal. She was quite relieved that Tengezil Frimbocket was no exception to this generalization. Though she had given him a start when she first spoke, "May I speak with you, Master Carpenter?" she had asked as gently as she could in her rough, hissing voice. It made making friends more difficult than even her strange appearance, but the flame had blessed her by scoring her vocal cords on the day it set her free and she could not bring herself to lament it's gift. As his eyes widened, taking in her burning yellow eyes beneath the dark hood, she quickly realized her mistake and lowered her hood and ducked her head respectfully.
The gnome drew in a shocked breath, but it was not fear that filled his face now, instead he looked upon her pitiably. Perhaps she should learn to appreciate this reaction, as it was the closest to kindness she generally encountered. But she could not help that it rankled her to see it.
Her hair was a shock of bright color, a deep red like glowing coals. In contrast, her skin was a bluish-grey pallor that would not fade or deepen with sun exposure the way others skin seemed to. Her eyes shone like a candle danced behind them like the pumpkin lanterns humans created in the fall. Her throat and jaw were terribly scarred on her left side, the flesh there looking like it had melted and run like wax only to harden again misshapen and malformed. She wore a single silver ring in her right nostril, the minimalist adornment requiring much restraint on her part. "Apologiess if my appearance is startling. I hoped you might have some scrapss of wood I might borrow. I will return them to you on the morrow with some designss burned into them if you will permit me. I am but a humble artist seeking honest trade, I promisse you."
The carpenter had been gracious and spared her some small scraps that he could do little with otherwise. Blaze congratulated herself on a job well done and was about to retreat into the wilderness to work through the night when the door to the Silver Stoat tavern had opened and a pair of humans stumbled out into the brisk wind. Delicious smells and sounds drifted to Blaze and her stomach assaulted her with fresh hunger pangs. It was risky to try and spend time in the social environment. But perhaps if she sat near the fire and kept busy with her work, she might be able to pass the hours without drawing attention to herself. The lovely singing she heard decided her... it was rare she allowed herself such spectacle, but her encounter with the gnome had left her in hopeful spirits. She decided she would take the risk.
She took her seat near the fire, keeping her gaze upon it with a reverent look on her face. The glow of firelight softened her appearance quite a bit, brightening her pallor and allowing people to believe the strange yellow light in her eyes was only reflection. She spoke as softly as she could when she ordered stew and ale, not wanting to startle the staff. Later, after she had eaten, she put one of the largest pieces of wood upon the table and began scratching the outline of a sketch into the wood with the edge of her dagger. Then she laid the blade upon the fire grate and heated the tip and set to blackening the lines of the image. Before long, the image of a young hare nibbling delicately on a clover blossom came into being. She smiled, pleased the work had turned out so well. The cheery scene of summer might bring her business. Humans seemed to like symbols of how things should be in uncertain times like this.
She looked up, surprised at the commotion at the door. So that is how a disparate band of adventurers come together. It was bound to be a rare sight and she blinked in wonder as she watched their awkward meeting. She turned her eye briefly to the fire and spoke as if in answer to some unheard question. "Yess, it soundss much like witchery to me." She seemed to nod to herself as she continues watching the warrior women with her yellow eyes.
Well met Arvanya. Freyja says offering her hand and forearm in a traditional Ulfin handshake. And I am pleased to meet you as well sir Voool she adds with a quick smile. Both caution and courtesy prevents the bard from trying to pet the wild looking animal. The smith, one Isker Euphram, is the man in charge of local defense as best I have been able to tell. I think he is a person to talk to first and might even be able to offer advise and equipment.
Surprised by Evelina's reaction Freyja embraces the girl back, if only for a moment. This woman's self confidence is damaged. she realizes and responds Ok then. Gather your things and tell me your name. We must look like a team when we address Isker.
Turning back to Astrid and trying to appeal the the woman's northern roots she ask And what of you sister of the north? Can we count on your help? There is honor to be won I think. And after songs to be sung. How does Gorum direct you?
After she speaks to the others Freyja looks out on the square saying We are 4. More would be welcome but these locals look more like farmers than adventurers. Perhaps the smith's daughter will join us. I hear she is quite tough.
Turning back to Astrid and trying to appeal the the woman's northern roots she ask And what of you sister of the north? Can we count on your help? There is honor to be won I think. And after songs to be sung. How does Gorum direct you?
Astrid had responded slowly at first, almost as if she hadn't been certain the summons was meant for her. Even when she had joined the others discussing the Lady's disappearance, she had hung back slightly, letting others speak their piece as she listened. The heavily ornamented girl's outburst had drawn a bit of a smirk - better the songstress than me.
A singer, a girl-and-wolf circus act, and a jeweler's bust given life - strange allies, indeed. But many stranger alliances had been made throughout the annals of war, and the collected seemed good of heart...if unusual in composition. The Lord of Iron lends strength to my arm...once the gift is given, it is mine own to use as I would. And I would seek this woman's trail - indeed, finding out where she was last seen was my purpose in coming to town this morning. So it seems we are well met, indeed. Astrid Gunnarsdotter, she introduces herself with a nod.
Isker is a wise man, she adds as she falls in step with the others. If he knows of this disappearance he will be of aid. We need only discover where the caravan was last seen; from there I will follow the abductors' trail, see where it may lead. Many hands make light work - I would be glad of aid in the endeavor... Again she smirks playfully. ...if your feet be not too soft to tread the wilds.
Arvanya is a little shocked at Evelina's response as well, acting quickly to subdue Auryel when he growls at the young woman who has pounced on his master. "Stai nemișcat" she commands him in Varisian.
She laughs as Evelina releases her. "Ah, such spirit! It makes you great storyteller, eh?"
"Sir Voool..."
"Auryel." Arvanya corrects Freyja abruptly. "He is wolf, yes, but good and strong friend as well." She reaches down and caresses his white head absently, instinctually.
"Then, this Isker Euphram sounds like man to talk to."
At Astrid's business-like introduction, Arvanya repeats her name slowly, savoring the exotic sound of it. "Astrid. It is lovely name. It reminds of...the stars, eh? If Freyja is right, then indeed they are aligned in our favor. As to the wilds, well, sometimes it is good to have soft feet. Better to catch your prey unaware, eh?"
Excellent. If we are agreed I will share with you a few more rumors I picked up last eve between my songs at the Shoat. Its a fine place to learn what is what is this small town I assure you. while we are out we need to also look for a hunter named Dryden Kepp who claimes 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. He could make an ally or he could need out help. And there is more to the story of Lady Argentea Malassene it seems. Two weeks ago she traveled past Heldren on her way from Oppara to Zimar to meet her betrothed. It seems the two didn't get along and Lady Argentea caused a scandal by calling off the engagement and returning home. So along with the early winter chill and threat of winter beasts there is a scorned lover to consider.
Isker's Smithy is just across the town square and even if this early you are not able to hear the usual and constant sound of hammer against metal, there is already a small thread of smoke coming from the smithy's chimney. As you knock on the door, it is opened by a still yawning Xanthippe, the smith's beautiful daughter. "Hum... good morning... we are not open yet, but how may I help you? I think I remember you from last night in the Stoat... sorry I think I might have exaggerated last night..."
Strange fortune. Arvanya marvels at the way fate's strings have so quickly pulled her together with these others. She was always wary of strings. They are usually attached to something.
She clicks her tongue, inviting Auryel to follow, as the two of them trail behind Astrid, Evelina, and Freyja. From her rear vantage point, she regards each of them in turn.
Freyja seems a natural leader, boisterous, direct, and commanding. Her singing talent is undeniable, and she is quite lovely to look at. Arvanya wonders about her flaws. After all, no one is perfect.
Astrid appears to exist on the opposite end of the spectrum. She is all business, with little patience for ostentation. She is certainly lacking in the looks department, but Arvanya bets her burly frame is quite strong, and takes her for a warrior. A crusader, perhaps?
Evelina's energy is contagious, her personality magnetic. Arvanya eyes her rapier and wonders how the woman would handle herself in a fight.
Anthuria isn't certain what Xanthippe is referring to, so she holds back, waiting for the others to provide some context.
Blaze had kept to herself, as she had learned was the safest course. But the people of this town were quite charming in their way. Her eye was drawn continually back to the flaxen haired singer as well as a boisterous raven-haired girl with a retinue of suitors. Something about the bard seemed strange to her, her statuesque beauty and confidence was almost otherworldly somehow.
But Xanthippe, as she learned was the raven beauty's name, seemed quite familiar in her way. She smelled of the forge, a scent that brought back fond memories to Blaze. She smelled like home.
Perhaps that was why she became increasingly uncomfortable at the way one of the men was watching her. He reeked of drink and soon his lazy smiles had oozed into lecherous leers. Had she known the woman better, she would have understood she could handle herself. But she was new here and her fiery temper was made more unstable by the ale she had consumed herself. So when the man tried to put hands on Xanthippe and pull her from the safety of the tavern, Blaze had snapped. She inserted herself between them and gripped his arm, her fingertips heating to uncomfortable levels as she glared up into his dumbfounded expression. Her voice hissed and growled, though she spoke little above a whisper.
"You do not paw a lady, mouth-breather. You invite her, politely and escort her if she agreess. Go cool off before your passionss ignite more than you bargained for..." Concealed from the rest of the room, she opened her hand and revealed a spout of flame hovering just above her palm like a disembodied torch. She hoped he was so drunk he would not remember this, or at least not trust his own perceptions.
Afterward, she felt she had reacted foolishly and apologized to Xanthippe for interfering. She returned to her table and resumed her art, now working on an image of a snowdrop flower.
But she was surprised to look up and find the smith's daughter had joined her. She inquired about the art work and Blaze did her best to explain how she made it. Before long she had shared that she too had been raised by a smith, at least partly. The young woman surprised her further by chatting amicably for some time without one awkward question about her strange appearance and voice. Nor did she see pity on her lovely face as her eyes took in her burn scars. Finally, she asked Blaze where she stayed, and when she objected to her sleeping rough on such a cold night and invited her to share her home, Blaze could think of no reason to refuse.
☙☙☙❦❧❧❧
Blaze was an early riser, so she had already been up and working on her last piece of wood before it was time to carry them back to the carpenter. She had been reclining on her bedroll, her cloak bundled beneath her like a pillow. The scrap was oddly shaped, almost like a human profile, and she could not help but begin to shape the features into a likeness of her lovely hostess. Her mouth was opened in laughter and her eyes were bright with mirth, her dark tresses cascading down her shoulder. Finally, she was happy with the end result and set it down as there was a rap at the door.
The tiefling looked quite different without her cloak. Her scarring was bared, running down the length of her throat on the left side to her scaly shoulder. She wore studded leather armor that had small details like thorns and flames etched into it. Beneath the armor she wore a gauzy outfit that would have covered her quite modestly if it were not practically see-though. But most striking were the many brands, all in various stages of healing that covered virtually every inch of her flesh excepting her face, throat and hands. Not to mention her lithe and nimble tail which flicked back and forth now as she regarded the women through the door over Xanthippe's shoulder, sparing only a nod for those she recognized from the tavern the night before.
Evelina quickly begins shoving her coin purse back into her backpack. Only at the second half of Freyja statement does she pause.
Oh, right...my name!" Dropping her bag right back down into the snow, she twirls her rapier and sheaths it, before bowing deeply. "Evelina Silverblade. At your service." Her posture becomes casual again, as she returns to packing her bag. "Some people call me Eve for short. I don't much care either way...and if my parents wanted a say..." she pauses to think, before laughing, "Well they probably should've stuck around then, shouldn't they?" Hoisting the bag up onto her shoulders with a seemingly untarnished cheer, she remarks, "Thats all of it. The grand sum of my worldly possessions..."
Evelina is almost shaking with anticipation, as the other converse. However, she still seems to greatly enjoy hearing the town gossip. "Oh, you know there is a good story behind that..." she interjects excitedly when Freyja drops the tidbit about Lady Argentea and her suitor.
As they move through town, Evelina cheerfully talks off Arvanya's ear, asking her all sorts of questions about Auryel. However, she remains cautious of Astrid. I don't think that one likes me very much...
---
Upon arriving at the smithy, Evelina tries to remain quiet and stay out of trouble. However, she accidentally lets a quiet "Woah..." slip out, as she is caught off guard by Xanthippe's companion and her flickering tail. As the smith's daughter speaks, Evelina tries her hardest not to stare, but it quickly becomes a losing battle. However, there is no contempt in Evelina's gaze, just full to the brim curiosity.
"Astrid. It is lovely name. It reminds of...the stars, eh? If Freyja is right, then indeed they are aligned in our favor. As to the wilds, well, sometimes it is good to have soft feet. Better to catch your prey unaware, eh?"
A fair wit, it seems. I think I like her, Astrid muses behind a small, private smile. Her father and his companions in the Guard had been masters of flyting, the complex trading of witticisms and well-meaning insults so popular among Ulfens looking to pass the long winter nights; she had enjoyed their banter over meat and mead as much as any opera or ball. Ah, yes, soft step, measured tread - but I think it helps little when they can hear the trembling of city folk a mile away, she responds with a wink.
Astrid hadn't heard the story of this Kepp, but she'd heard rumors from others making their way back into town of other strange beasts. A giant white weasel? I heard tell of a white stag as well, chased by a farmer's boy until it gave him the slip. And if the boy is to be believed, the deer spoke as well - though that may have been the child's fever talking. He'd landed in a creek in his pursuit, and it's a bit cool out right now for a swim. Perhaps deer and weasel trade stories in the cold nights, compliment each other's fine coloring?
However, she remains cautious of Astrid.
Her speech is as her swordplay...all speed and flourish where it should be steadiness and precision... This Evelina reminded her of the nobleladies she'd grown up beside, with the endless talk and the clear obsession with finery. Yet there was something strangely buoying about the glittering girl's prattle, an energy she carried that seemed to radiate to everyone around - and wholly different from the solitude that was Astrid's usual companion. Though, perhaps it's best it's another ear she talks off.
"Hum... good morning... we are not open yet, but how may I help you? I think I remember you from last night in the Stoat... sorry I think I might have exaggerated last night..."
Astrid recognized Xanthippe, of course - a fixture in the hopes of all the town's eligible young men (and even a woman or two). And what's more, with a moment's thought, she recalls the burning eyes behind her shoulder as well, though the person behind them had been much better concealed when she sat beside the fire in the Silver Stoat last night. And Astrid could tell why the woman had secreted herself inside her cloak...she wouldn't have wanted the stares, either.
Strange heritage, it's clear, but a good heart - I saw her stand up for Xanthippe when that farmer had let his hands part company with his senses. And who am I to judge for uncommon blood? She echoes the nod with one of her own, meeting the woman's burning eyes for a long moment before turning her attention back to Xanthippe. Judging by the headache, it seems my own night proved just as boisterous. Thankfully the night proved to bear no lasting harm. Thanks to this visitor, she thinks, meeting the fiery gaze again. We came to seek your father - to see if he knew any more of this missing noblewoman, this Lady Malassene? Her plight did not sit well with us, and we thought, with he being involved with the town's defense, he may have heard something of the matter.
Still yawning, Xanthippe puts her head back inside the shop. "DAAAA! Some women are here looking for you!" When she gets no answer she opens the door, inviting you to leave the cold morning behind, and goes towards the room where she thinks here father is.
The smithy is small and built in a way to serve both as shop and home, with the heat from the forge warming the whole place. There is a simple counter in front of you with a pile of household and farming iron tools, perhaps part of some unfinished order. There are also a few weapons in a rack and also a masterfully crafted banded mail, even if it has the appearance that it has already been used in the past.
A minute later you hear Xanthippe's voice again. "Hey daa... are you going deaf? I was calling you! Four women are looking for you..." His answer is unintelligible but the content is quite clear by his daughter's answer. "Oh come on, they are about my age! And who cares if they are pretty or not! It is nothing like that, they want to know about that missing Lady..." A couple more minutes later Isker Euphran, appears from the back of the smithy.
Isker is a middle-aged man with quite strong arms, probably capable of both handling his craft and also a sword and shield. He has both his hair and beard in black color, even if already starting to become more salt and pepper in some points. She 'measures' you with his eyes. "So... were you friends of her? Councilor Ionnia is already looking for someone to go find her... rest assured ladies, we'll find good men to look for her." He smiles to you, specially for Freyja and avoiding to look at Blaze.
Arvanya's eyebrows arch again at Isker's muffled questions.
Now understanding the nature of the man whose assistance they seek, she clenches her jaw quietly. Whatever her hesitation about hunting for Malassene before, she is now determined that this group of "ladies" will be the party that brings her to safety.
There was a time when Evelina would have leapt into argument with the smith. Years of rejection had quelled that particular fire. Instead, her shoulders droop and her previous joy seems to drain away.
Her voice soft and self-conscious, she quietly replies. "You misunderstand us, sir. We wish to help Lady Argentea..." Eyes to the ground, she continues, "You see, she was taken quite some time ago now...and no one has gone to help her yet...so why not us if we are willing?"
Isker turns red at Evelina's answer and quickly looks behind him, probably to check if his daughter was with him already. "Oh! N... no, I'm sorry, I just thought you were friends because ya know you are all... sorry. I meant no harm with my comment before. If you are interested in help, sure, better for us, better for the Lady... about that, I know very little about the matter, not much more than any in town."
Isker recovers a bit and cleans the sweat from his forehead in the arms of his shirt. "I suggest you to talk to Councilor Ionnia but I'm not even sure if she knows anything more... perhaps it would be easier if you talk to Yuln himself, the Lady's bodyguard that survived the attack. He is at the Willowbark now, recovering from his wounds..."
Strange heritage, it's clear, but a good heart - I saw her stand up for Xanthippe when that farmer had let his hands part company with his senses. And who am I to judge for uncommon blood? She echoes the nod with one of her own, meeting the woman's burning eyes for a long moment before turning her attention back to Xanthippe. Judging by the headache, it seems my own night proved just as boisterous. Thankfully the night proved to bear no lasting harm. Thanks to this visitor, she thinks, meeting the fiery gaze again. We came to seek your father - to see if he knew any more of this missing noblewoman, this Lady Malassene? Her plight did not sit well with us, and we thought, with he being involved with the town's defense, he may have heard something of the matter.
Blaze was pleased to see at least one of the women met her gaze easily. Of course, judging by the size of this one, she was unlikely to be frightened by anything. But the lack of shock and pity was welcome, all the same.
The smaller girl who did seem a bit shocked was adorned with many jewels, an inclination Blaze understood well, though she wondered at why the pretty young fencer felt the need. It brought to mind a human phrase that Pater was fond of when he felt complementary. Something about gilding the lily.
Still, Blaze liked pretty things, else her art would consist of darker images. Wanting to set the girl at ease, she decided she should speak. The sound of her voice was apt to bother her as well, but if she said something nice, it might cut the strangeness. "I like your pin." She said, indicating the crossed swords at her throat. The prominent placement implied it was a favorite and the phrase contained no sibilant s that she naturally exaggerated.
She turned back to Astrid, replying to what she had told Xanthippe. "You want to look for the noble lady? Iss one of your party a tracker?" Blaze had no skill with tracking and it was probably a primary reason she caught prey so rarely. Just being acquainted with a tracker was a boon.
As the smith came into the room, Blaze's body language changed. She reached with her right hand and cradled her left arm. The left was covered in burn scars as well as most of the upper left side of her body. Seeing the pointed way he avoided looking at her caused her hunch in upon herself, as if she wanted to melt into the forge fire. Her eyes flickered to her bedroll, and suddenly she wished she had gathered it up already. She sincerely hoped she wouldn't have to leave without it.
"You want to look for the noble lady? Iss one of your party a tracker?"
I am - I make my living as a trapper and a guide in the Border Wood. I've done it for many years. If there is a trail to find, I'll find it. And if it's not a trail of footprints, it's a trail of scent... But she wasn't ready to steel herself into revealing that just yet. Let the girl think it was her keen eyesight that discovered the paths...which, in all fairness, it often was. Extra-keen eyesight.
"... rest assured ladies, we'll find good men to look for her."
Then it is the Councilor we will see, and this remaining bodyguard. Thank you for your time. Astrid's words are slightly clipped, as if she's biting back a retort. But apparently she's not so good at it. And rest easy, good sir - Her emphasis on the sir is unmistakable. - we shall return the Lady to her noble company posthaste. Trouble yourself not. And clearly you do not intend to. Pffh.
Evelina still looks a bit deflated, but becomes a little brighter when the strange woman compliments her pin.
"Thank you...it was a gift..." Evelina replies with an uncharacteristically shy smile, as she adjust the pin in her scarf. Before she can help herself, she blurts out, "I like your tail! I bet you can do all sorts of stuff with it!"
Evelina seems to think for a moment, as a slither of excitement returns to her face. "You should come with us!" Looking back down at the floor sheepishly, she adds, "I mean...if you wanted to, that is..."
I am - I make my living as a trapper and a guide in the Border Wood. I've done it for many years. If there is a trail to find, I'll find it. And if it's not a trail of footprints, it's a trail of scent... But she wasn't ready to steel herself into revealing that just yet. Let the girl think it was her keen eyesight that discovered the paths...which, in all fairness, it often was. Extra-keen eyesight.
Blaze nodded, looking duly impressed. "There hass been talk of strange creatures in the wood. It is good you have these skillss. I have no doubt you will find her."
Evelina still looks a bit deflated, but becomes a little brighter when the strange woman compliments her pin.
"Thank you...it was a gift..." Evelina replies with an uncharacteristically shy smile, as she adjust the pin in her scarf. Before she can help herself, she blurts out, "I like your tail! I bet you can do all sorts of stuff with it!"
The tiefling chuckles, a low, grating sound, her smile displaying teeth that seem just a bit too white and sharp against her blue-grey skin. The girls youthful exuberance was contagious and the tiefling liked her instantly. "Indeed, I can." She said, demonstrating by reaching behind her with said tail and lifting the bundled cloak into her hands in one quick, seamless maneuver.
Evelina seems to think for a moment, as a slither of excitement returns to her face. "You should come with us!" Looking back down at the floor sheepishly, she adds, "I mean...if you wanted to, that is..."
Eyeing the smith askance, she nodded. "Perhapss I should, at that. I wanted to see what the apothecary had to offer anyway." Besides, she thought to herself, better to take leave myself before I am shown to the door. She quickly gathered her things, rolling the bedroll up quickly and returning her dagger to it's sheath. She hesitated over the art piece of Xanthippe... deciding it was too personal to be placed on display, she picked it up and placed it on the table where it could be seen. "Thank you for your hospitality." She said to the open air and made ready to leave. She could pay the carpenter for the small scrap if he did not think the other pieces offset the cost.
Left alone for a moment with Blaze Freyja offers a smile and an introduction. Hello there. I am Freyja. I think I saw you last night at the Stoat. I hope you liked my singing. Then she offers in a more quiet voice. I did not get a good look at your face last night but saw what you did for Xanthippe. That was brave. I, ... well I've had such problems in the past and wish I had a friend like you with me then ... I know why you hide yourself, but you do not have to hide from us. We are not untraveled locals who fear our own shadows, are we ladies? She asks the others. And if you think you have something to offer our group then you are indeed welcome to join us. I hope to do more than find out what happened to the missing lady. I hope to find the cause of this cold, if it can be found.
Responding to Isker Freyja assures I think you will find us quite capable, and likely your best option for help now that the cold has settled in and the roads grow more dangerous. We will go and speak to Councilor Ionnia but I hoped to have your support for our venture before doing so. Believe it or not there are some who might doubt our capabilities simply because we are women. But I know you, with your strong and talented daughter, would never hold such a position. And if we are going to succeed we will need your vote of confidence and your support. Do we have it? If you are unsure, we can always ask your daughter's opinion.
Arvanya can't stop staring at woman with the scars. At first she regards her as a danger, but it is obvious that Xanthippe is well aware of her presence. She is an invited guest. Arvanya feels a bit guilty, especially after the scarred woman compliments Evelina's jewelry, and admonishes herself for jumping to such an extreme conclusion. But she can't take her eyes off of the creature. The woman.
She is nearly shocked to find Auryel seems completely at ease. This solidifies her trust.
Surprisingly, she finds herself reluctant to speak up when asked if there are trackers among them. This is a frustrating feeling for her, for she isn't normally one to be shy and reserved. Still, she is relieved that Astrid should speak first, volunteering her services as a tracker.
It isn't until Freyja pipes up with introductions and extends an invitation that Arvanya manages to find her voice. "Arvanya..." she says evenly, extending a hand. "I didn't catch your name?"
"We're off then? This Yuln seems to be best lead. We should speak to him while the events are still clear in his mind, hmm?"
Evelina's face brightens with childlike wonder as Blaze pulls her tail trick. "Okay...now you are just trying to make jealous!" she says with a grin.
However, as the conversation continues, Evelina starts getting lost in her own head. Her confidence shaken by Isker's comment, she thinks, What if the councilor doesn't trust us to do this...will the others still go? If the tavern is any indication, Freyja seems pretty big on asking permission before doing things if the tavern is any indication...but this is the best chance I gotten in a long time...and poor Lady Argentea. Someone needs to go after her before its too late...
When Arvanya speaks, Evelina snaps out of stupor, "I think that's a great idea. I mean who would know more about where she went than him!" she says almost too quickly.
Left alone for a moment with Blaze Freyja offers a smile and an introduction. Hello there. I am Freyja. I think I saw you last night at the Stoat. I hope you liked my singing. Then she offers in a more quiet voice. I did not get a good look at your face last night but saw what you did for Xanthippe. That was brave. I, ... well I've had such problems in the past and wish I had a friend like you with me then ... I know why you hide yourself, but you do not have to hide from us. We are not untraveled locals who fear our own shadows, are we ladies? She asks the others. And if you think you have something to offer our group then you are indeed welcome to join us. I hope to do more than find out what happened to the missing lady. I hope to find the cause of this cold, if it can be found.
"Yess, your singing wass a rare treat. It iss not something I can do myself, of course." Blaze touched her throat, indicating the damage to her vocal cords that left her voice little more than a hoarse, gravelly whisper. She was aware again of an almost unearthly determination and strength in the woman before her.
Blaze seemed almost embarrassed to realize others had seen her interfere with Xanthippe's overeager suitor, she wondered just how closely she had been watched. "It wass nothing. I just do not like to see people restrained. It iss... what iss phrase? A pet'ss peeve." She pronounced, seeming happy at finding the words. "I have some skill, but it iss..." She hesitates trying to decide how to describe what she did, "...you will have to see." She tried to smile so as not to worry the others with that ominous end to her description.
She ducks her head to Arvanya. "I am called Blaze." She smiled down at the wolf as well. She had encountered wolves in the wild before, they and wild cats were the only creatures she had known to gaze back her with yellow eyes much like her own. "And who iss your friend?" She asked, knowing better than to mistake a magnificent predator such as this for a mere pet.
She chuckled again at Evelina's comment as she put on her cloak and fastened the toggles. Tail envy, she thought to herself. That is a new one for sure...
"And if we are going to succeed we will need your vote of confidence and your support. Do we have it? If you are unsure, we can always ask your daughter's opinion."
Isker nods as Freyja speaks. "Of course, of course, you all have my full support! I really hope you are able rescue the lady and return safely to Heldren. Go ahead, talk to Yuln and to councilwoman Ionnia... I'm pretty sure she'll not think twice before giving you her blessi..."
From the back of the foundry, you hear Xanthippe yelling. "Daaa! It's almost ready! I need you here..." With a couple apologies while walking away, Isker wished you luck.
You cross the street towards the Willowbark Apothecary just to find its door opened and a dwarf in front of it . You are able to cross the well tended garden in front of the apothecary before the dwarf notices your presence. "Morning Ladies... not sure what is your business today with miss Tessaraea but she's really busy with the ulfen... perhaps it woul' be better if yah come back later..." Turning his attention back to the interior of the shop, he speaks once more. "Miss Tessaraea, as usual I'll be righ' next door if yah need some more help... good luck to yah Yuln... see yah later councilwoman..." With that, he turns back to you, trying to move through you, leaving the shop.
Thank you Isker. We shall be back to discuss requisitioning of supplies later today. Freyja says matter-of-factly before departing.
The dwarf looked familiar to Freyja but at first she could not pin a name to him. Then it dawned on her that this must be that Argus Goldtooth fellow who served as the local barber/dentist. Good morning to you Master Goldtooth. Freyja greets him with a bright smile but steps to block his way. In case you have not noticed, some of us are Ulfin too and we have come to see to our kin. We might be able to help with the healing. And since we intend to go after Lady Argentea Malassene we need a word with the man. She regards the blood on his clothing before asking. I see you have tended the man. What is your assessment of his condition and what were the causes of his wounds?
"I see you have tended the man. What is your assessment of his condition and what were the causes of his wounds?"
"Tended? No... Miss Tessaraea is the one good with herbs and healin'. I jus' got here to chop off the poor man's left foot... it was black with frostbite... there wasn't a thing to do..." She moves away so you can enter the shop. "Yuln is a tough man... recused a drink or medicine before, sayin' that 'he needed his mind to answer questions'... go ahead if yah want to help. Miss Tessaraea is the one to ask abou' his wounds though..."
Evelina looks relieved as the group starts heading towards to apothecary, but with a seed of doubt planted in her head, she is not quite as lively as the group travels. When they arrive, she gives the dwarf a friendly smile, but turns pale as soon as she realizes the councilwoman is inside. Instinctively, she moves behind Freyja and tries to make herself scarce.
Arvanya introduces Blaze to Auryel, who wags his tail happily. She never gave having a wolf around a second thought, but being in settlements always reminded her that not everyone would be comfortable with a wild animal, even one as loyal as Auryel. She was glad to see him accepted so easily here.
At the Willowbark Apothecary, she has Auryel wait outside the door. She takes in a sharp breath upon learning that Yuln's foot has been amputated. "Frostbite, you say!? What could explain such...anomoly but magic? Is Border Wood known to harbor dark magicians?"
Now mildly fearful of what she will find, she carefully steps deeper into the building in search of Yuln and Miss Tessaraea.
_____
Freyja follows Arvanya inside, pleased that the councilwoman is also here. Her eyes adjust to the dimmer light quickly and she looks about. Mrs. Willowbark, we have come to speak with both you and your patient. Perhaps we can help him as well.
Astrid follows Freyja and Arvanya into the herbalist's house, seemingly unperturbed by the dim light. When she sees the man lying on the bed, his fresh stump still bleeding beneath its dressing, she remembers the dwarf's words about the man refusing anything to dull the pain. You have a stout spirit, master Yuln, to endure such without medicine. But let me give such aid as I can.
She sets her hand on his injured leg, right above the stump, and murmurs a prayer in a deep alto, words of hope for rejoining the fight once more. As she speaks, a red light suffuses her hand and the man's calf; he sighs with relief, and the bleeding seems to slow beneath the bandages. Now, the questions you have kept your mind clear for. You were with the Lady Malassene when she was taken, yes? Where were you beset upon? How many were there, and what did they look like? Do you know why she may have been pursued?
It sounded as if the Ulfen fellow had suffered enough just now and as she had no way to offer anything but further distress, Blaze chose leave the interviewing to those who would not frighten the poor man. Instead, she headed back to the carpenter's shop.
She lowered her hood as she approached the gnome. "Good morning, Master Frimbocket. I have returned, ass promised. Here iss what I could do with the bitss you lent me." She pulled the two pieces of wood from her sack and laid them upon the work table.
She bit her lip with her sharp, white teeth as she watched him look over the art. "What do you think? Would folk like such imagess here? The last piece wass not good for display, I can pay you for it."
Evelina quietly follows the others into the building. When she sees the state of the man lying before her, the thoughts that had been troubling her suddenly seemed trivial. Promptly forgetting her plan to hide behind Freyja, she instinctively moves to Yuln's side and places her hand on his arm in a futile attempt to comfort him. Clearly distressed to see another human being in such pain, Evelina looks at Astrid with great respect and gratitude as she steps forward to heal the man. However, still concerned for the man's state, she is quickly tries to soften Astrid's brusque questions.
"If you feel up to it, of course...anything you remember could really, really help us..."
Freja adds Your bravery and drive to make it back to town will not be in vain. Tell us what you can remember so that we can go forth and either rescue or avenge your lady.
Argus simply answer "There are always the faeries..." to Arvanya before leaving you behind and returning to his shop and home.
When you step inside the apothecary, the first thing you see is the improvised bed near the fireplace where a big Ulfen man is resting with his stump resting on a small stool. Sitting on a chair near the man's head is a middle-aged woman with plain clothes, black (starting to become white) hair in a bun, and tired blue eyes.
The room is warm and has a very present herbal smell coming from the numerous herbs resting atop the fireplace in mixed stages of drying. The room has also many shelves with assorted herbs, fungus, and seeds, as well was many jars, vials, and even a couple potions. Surprisingly, there are a large number of identical flasks with a red substance.
The councilwoman gets up and extends a hand first to Freyja and than to the rest of you. "I'm glad to hear that you intend to help... It was my intention to look for help as soon as Yuln was cared for. He already told me what happened but I believe he'll insist to tell you again..." She then sits on her chair once more.
A couple seconds after Astrid finishes to chant her prayer and Yuln thanks her with his tired voice, an elf enters the room coming from the kitchen. Like every elf (if you have previously seen one before), Tessaraea is astonishingly beautiful in her auburn hair and brown eyes. She wears a simple green mantle and carries a single flask in her hands. Looking at Freyja's healing prowess, he handles her the flask."Well, I think you should keep it... it is a healing concoction. I was intending to use it to help Yuln but since you were faster I think it is fare for you to have it. I'm Tessaraea Willowbark..." Yuln coughs a couple times and the elf quickly turns around. "Oh! Right, forgot about the Denagrys sirup..."
Yuln coughs once more and extends his hands to Astrid in a clear sign for her to slow down on her questions. Wrapped in bandages, the Ulfen mercenary's nose, fingers, and toes have taken on a black hue from serious frostbite. "Argh... slow down girrl... yes, I vas vith de lady vhen ve verre attacked. Dey felled upon us vhen ve verre crrossing betveen de Borrderr Vood and de Gilded Vale."
He coughs once more, spitting a glob of blood near the fireplace. "Ve tought dey verre just bandits at first... outlaws who hide like volves in de forrest. Dey verre no match forr us. But den came de cold fey of de norrth. Dey appearred among us and de battle turrned quickly. My people speak of the vinterr-touched all de time, but I neverr expected to meet dem dis farr south."
He takes a couple moments to breath and change his stump's position before continuing. "Vhen de fight vas overr dey took de lady into de forest, back trough de ice and snow. Beyond dat, I don't know. I followed as farr as I could, but de vinter-touched verre too many and too harrd to fend off in de snow alone. I barrely escaped, and rrode to seek help herre. My ancestorrs vould ridicule my lack of valorr forr fleeing rratherr dan fighting to de end. But I faced enemies dat even de grreatest varriorrs in de Linnorrm Kingdoms have falterred against, dough I tink I slew at least one of dem beforre dey drragged Lady Arrgentea away."
"I do not know vy dey took herr, but if one of de Vite Vitches took herr, no good shall come of it. De vinter-touched do nothing vithout de leave of dose who placed de ice in deirr hearrts. If dey'rre herre, it's because a Vite Vitch sent dem. And much vorrse vill follow."
Tengezil smiles at Blaze once he sees her work. "You have quite a talent my young lady! Both of your works are really pleasant to look upon to! I think you'll be able to sell any work quickly if they follow this line of quality... hum... as you can see, my line of work is more specialized towards furniture instead of works of art but I'd like to learn your technique so I could apply it also to my own works if you are interested..." He then takes five gold coins from his purse and extends to you. "I'll gladly buy both of your works if you allow me." He smiles once more. His electric blue hair is a pleasant contrast with his somehow professional tone... not really 'gnomy' in nature.
Freyja listens without interrupting. After Yuln finishes Freyja tries to reassure him. She tries speaking in Skald but if he he does not understand she will revert to common. Brave Yuln, I say that your ancestors will praise your actions for you came to us and warned us of what we will face instead of throwing your life away. You chose the path of wisdom and because of that you strengthen and prepare us for the coming fight. I shall write a ballad of the rescue of Lady Malassene and the first verse shall sing of your wisdom and bravery and sacrifice. And due to your warning I believe the final verse may yet be a happy one! Now tell us more of these cold fey. we would know of them and how to slay them. Of winter witches, we already know much of that lore.
Blaze was not really expecting to be paid for her work since the gracious gnome had lent her the materials in the first place. But as she never knew how soon she might have to leave an area, she had learned not to turn gold down. "Thank you, Master Frimbocket. You are very generous indeed. I hoped you might appreciate my skill, you make such lovely trim for the nice houses in town. 'Gingerbread', I think I heard it called. I will be happy to share the method with you. I burn the image into wood or leather by heating a metal tool in the embers of a fire."
She could also do this by heating the tool more directly with her hand, but as it was unlikely the gnome could do that she decided there was no need to mention that part. "I work with my dagger, mostly, but I hope to buy some finer tools for more delicate designs soon. You'll want to protect your hand from the hot tools as well." Her own hands were free of the artistic brands she wore on most of the rest of her body, but they were by no means free of burns. The pads of her thumb and forefinger on her hands were shiny and very smooth with scar tissue from holding the heated blade.
"I may be away for a few days. A group of adventurers is going after the missing noble lady and asked if I would go with them. If you have anything else you would like me to work on, I would be happy to have something to do along the way. I will check in with you again when I have returned. Please feel free to let people see the art and pass along that I can make almost anything I have seen, and I have seen much in my time." She smiled. Gnomes were a fairly long-lived race as well, so she expected he understood.
If he had nothing else to say or ask of her, she thanks him again and makes her way back to the apothecary's shop and waits outside for the others to be done interviewing the wounded man. She was tempted to enter, but after the horrors he had likely faced, she did not wish to stress him with her strange presence.
Evelina listens intently, impressed with the man's dogged determination and tale of survival. I guess the stories were true. Ulfen bravery is a truly remarkable thing!
Evelina is mostly following his thick accent, until the conversation turns to Skald. Unable to understand the conversation any longer, she turns her attention back to the council woman. She hasn't jumped in to stop us or laughed at us yet...she maybe even sounded appreciative that we are here... Feeling hopeful, she moves aways from Yuln and Freyja to the chair where the council woman sits. Trying to act confident, but her hands nervously clinging to the bottom of her shirt, she leans against the wall and asks, "So, has there been any more news from the forest that we should know about?"
"Freyja is right. You live now, yes, and can warn us of such dangers we may not otherwise know. There is strength and honor in survival."
Arvanya tries to smile reassuringly, but the extent of the man's injuries is heartbreaking, and she feels genuine remorse for his feelings of personal failure. She thinks of her friends Niko, Talia, and Artyo, and their own tale of survival. Would any regard them as cowards for fleeing the hellknights?
She doesn't feel like a coward. She feels like a survivor. And damn anyone who would say otherwise.
"The Border Wood calls, it seems. Into the forest we go." From where brave men have fled. Perhaps they should have sent brave women to begin with.
She cannot help but smile.
"If it is truly so cold, we will need protection. Are there such supplies available in town?"
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Had you stayed, you could very well have doomed the Lady to a lifetime in her captors' grasp. There is much honor in fighting to the last, it is true...but sometimes there is courage in retreating to find allies, to press the battle from a vantage point of power. After all, there is just as much honor in victory. Astrid more than understood the man's internal battle, for she'd been taught all her life to stand her ground, to fight on even when there was no hope. But she knew her words were right as well...though advocating retreat always rankled her, even when she knew it best. Now, rest and recover, that you may fight another day.
Freyja may have been familiar with the lore of the winter witches, but Astrid was less so. In Oppara, where seeing any snow at all was a rare occurrence, the winter witches had seemed a remote threat, practically boogeymen...and when she'd returned to the Land of the Linnorm Kings, she'd had other learning to do. And cold fey...she'd swatted a few of them before, living in the Northern woods, but there'd been little opportunity for study in the heat of battle. Yes, anything you know of the cold ones or the witches will be a boon.
At Arvanya's concerns, Astrid looks up at her from her seat next to the bed. Yes, you are right. My woodscraft can help to better our chances of combating the cold, but any supplies we can get will be of use. Miss Tessaraea? she calls out. Do you know if Vivialla's store has any supplies for the cold? The demand is high, I am sure, but our need is great.
Freyja waits patiently for a response from the Olfen man concerned that something might be wrong.
Yuln eyes Freyja, nods, and tries to smile. "Du er alt for venlig med dine ord, pige, og jeg er taknemmelig, selvom jeg stadig føler, at jeg ikke fortjener dem ..."
He then continues in Taldan so the others can understand Freyja's and Astrid's questions. "Yea... I guess ya southern folks know no thing about yah enemies so betterr to starrt frrom de beginning... nearrly 1,400 yearrs ago, de Vitch Queen Baba Yaga arrived frrom noverre in herr Dancing Hut vith a currsed army of trrolls, frrost giants, vinter volves, and icy fey minions svept down frrom de Crrown of de Vorld to crrash upon de easterrnmost Lands of de Linnorrm Kings like a bloody avalanche, slaying ourr kin by de tousands. De firrst axe's blow of de Vinter Var strroke on de Linnorrm Kingdom of Raemerrrund. Underr de weak leaderrship of studious King Jarrguut, a King who inherrited his crown vithout killing a linnorrm, Raemerrrund collapsed like weak ice in only 6 days. De bikerring thanes of de Djurrstorr Confederracy to Raemerrrund's south resisted de attack for 17 more days, but dey too fell. In underr a month, Baba Yaga conquerred two independent kingdoms dat had stood forr centurries and rremade dem into Irrisen, a land svathed foreverr in bitterr, superrnaturral vinterr..." Yuln stops his tale when Tessaraea returns with her sirup and a hot soup. He drinks his medicine and starts to eat, continuing his tale between spoons of soup.
"De tales say dat afterr installing herr dauter Jadviga on de trone as Irrrisen's firrst queen, Baba Yaga departed in her Dancing Hut, but she rreturrned to Irrrisen exactly 100 yearrs laterr vith her tree cursed horsemen to rreplace Jadwiga vith a new dauter, Morrgannan, taking de forrmerr queen and de firrst generration of herr descendants vith herr vhen she left again. Baba Yaga has continued dis trradition everry 100 yearrs for de last 14 centurries, rresulting in a succession of 14 queens of Irrrisen. If I am correct, dis yearr she vill come back to take Queen Elvanna vith her..." He finished the soup and handles the bowl back to the elf, which takes it and takes it back to the kitchen, quickly returning.
"De winter-touched arre fey crreaturres who have svorn demselves to de Vite Vitches of Irrisen, dose who stole ourr lands frrom us durring de Vinterr Varr. Tiny sprrites no taller dan de length of a man's forrearrm. But don't be fooled by deir small staturre. Legends say dey have taken a sliverr of ice into deir hearrts, and deir touch beares de harsh bite of vinterr." He covers his mouth before a grievous series of coughs before continuing. "Dey are harrd to kill also... you vill need cold irron and burrning flame. Both burrn dem, and both arre weapons dey fearr." He then points to the wall nearby, where there is a shield and a sword. "Dere, girrl... take my svord vith you. It is made of cold iron and ya vill make better use of it dan me..."
At Evelina's question, the councilwoman shakes her head. No, even if I'm not yet sure if it is good or bad news yet... At Arvanya's and Astrid's question about the gear, Ionna continues. "I'm not quite sure since we are in mid summer but I guess it won't hurt to try... I must say that I thank you enough for assisting us."
The gnome nods enthusiastically as Blaze explains her craft. "I will, girl, I will... oh, what is your name again? I'm eager see you working again!" He then waves to you as you leave the store.
Rising slowly Freyja moves to the wall and retrieves the sword. Lifting it she places her own blade in iys place. Det vil være en ære at bære din klinge she responds Men du kan lade have behov for et sværd, så jeg forlader dig mine. Det er også en Ulfin klinge så bør føle sig hjemme i dine hænder.
It would be an honor to carry your blade. But you may let have need of a sword so I leave you mine. It too is an Ulfin blade so should feel at home in your hands.
Addressing the councilwoman and Tessaraea Willowbark Freyja asks We four and one other shall go and do what we can. I believe we are your best hope. But we will need weapons and supplies for our quest. What can the town spare? Fire and Cold Iron are evidently in need, as well as cold weather gear and food. Who else here should we request aid from and how quickly can it be gathered?