Keolin's Reign of Winter Campaign, Table 1 (Inactive)

Game Master Nickadeamous

Ragnar moved forward solemnly, holding the little girl's body.

"We were too late."

"A greater purpose? As long as it means the gates will end to be, I will gladly join my strenght to your own. It seems going alone was foolish."

While the others wait for Nadya, Warden heads out in a different direction:"I will go and retrieve Fang. It won't take long."
Also, it prevents Warden from suggesting to Nadya that she could plant something in memory of Thora, where Thora would provide splendid compost and live on, in a way - i doubt she'd take it well.

"I'm sorry," Droviz tells Nadya. "That bloated hag didn't take your girl for ransoming. She took her for killing. She was dead before we ever got to Irrisen... and if fate is kind, I'll cut that hag's heart out for what she did."

Drow have different ideas about how to console the bereaved... ^^;

Nadya's lip trembled as she approached from a few feet away. Tears welled up in her eyes as she slowly reached out to caress the face of her daughter's body. "Oh my darling Thora. You didn't deserve this" she whispered.

She reached out to take the body from Ragnar. Holding it close with her head bowed low as if praying, she spoke to her daughter one last time. Moments later she dropped to her knees still clutching her daughter, unwilling to let her go. She began to weep as only a parent could.

Eventually she looked up at everyone. Through gritted teeth she spoke "if Nazhena was not here, she would be in Whitethrone, the capital of Irrisen. I will take my daughter home to rest in Waldsby, and then I will travel to Whitethrone to slay the witch. I would ask that you come with me."

Ragnar looked around, hoping to see Thora's spirit near her mother.

Ragnar looks toward the edge of the keep wall and makes a gentle becoming motion.

Krystae watches Nadya in silence, holding her head low in shame. Even though they never had a chance to save the young girl, she still felt the sting of failure. She had an idea of what it felt like to lose a loved one; however, she had heard that losing a child was like losing a piece of soul that never recovered...

"We will see the end of this witch with you, Nadya. How many warriors do your people have? This tower would prove to be an excellent stronghold against Nazhena's forces still in the area. Perhaps after putting your daughter to rest, we could escort the remainder of your people to hold up here until this has been handled?"

The ghostly girl slowly steps out from behind the wall. Curious as to how one can see her when the others cannot, she slowly approaches. She leaves no foot prints in the snow. About halfway in, she stops. She smiles as tears roll down her face, a mixture of elation and sorrow.

"We don't have many men, at least not many fighting men. I doubt any would want to stay here" Nadya says. "They will be too afraid that Nazhena will come back eventually, and if we fail...she will. She will come back and kill or enslave everyone. We must stop her ourselves."

"There is a village, Ellsprin, about a week from Waldsby. I will take my family there for safety." As the words leave her mouth, her expression changes from anger back to sadness. She grows quiet for a minute then follows with "Whitethrone is a few more days beyond that."

Ragnar moved away from the group and knelt in the snow.

"Do you understand what has happened to you, Thora" he asked quietly.

It's worth noting that the haunted curse isn't very specific about being able to hear/understand or speak to ghosts. i'm not using Speak With Dead or anything like that. I've been playing the curse so far as being able to speak with ghosts that are "mine." It's up to you if Thora counts or not, or if she is coherent enough to understand me or respond in a way I can understand or hear. I'd love to have her join "my" ghosts, but I'd understand if you didn't want to deal with that sort of thing.

Wouldn't it be a "happier" end if she got to pass on? Reunited with her mother and letting go, rather than being stuck as an "extra" to a ghost magnet?

I don't have any issues with the liberties taken so far with respect to the haunted curse and the spirits. It won't bother me where Thora ends up. Honestly I think it presents the possibility of interesting role playing opportunities. She is the spirit of a 7 year old girl and mechanically has no abilities. I was struggling with having Ragnar see the spirits since again, there are no mechanics behind it, but at the end of the day I typically allow things as long as they don't seem to be breaking the game, which so far it hasn't. He wouldn't be able to see an evil, hostile ghost for example, and I'll try to limit what information he can get from the spirits since he isn't actually using Speak with Dead yet, but so far it's as simple as 'no harm, no foul'.

I really don't know if it would be happier, and happier for whom? I imagine that the spirit in this case might enjoy hanging around with the other spirits rather than passing on, but I have no real way of knowing. It might be easier and happier for the group to not have the reminder of one of the campaign's darkest moments, but again, it could present some solid role playing opportunities. Feel free to continue the discussion in the discussion thread or PM me your thoughts.

Slowly, the ghost child approached the hulking Ragnar. She quickly nodded, but after a long pause slowly shook her head no. Looking past Ragnar, she stared at her mother. Eventually she raised her arm and pointed to Nadya.

Nadya, unaware of the spiritual exchange, climbed to her feet still holding her daughter's body. She shifted the weight around until she had a solid handle on it then turned and began marching towards the main gate of the keep.

"You died, Thora." Ragnar rumbled quietly. "A witch took you, and killed you. You may not remember entirely. It is better if you do not try. I am sorry we could not save you."

"Your mother is going to travel with us, and you are welcome to come along. You will have choices to make soon, but you do not need to make them now."

"You might not always be able to see your mother, or other living people. They cannot see you. It will be frustrating. You may become confused, or angry. If you do, you can talk to me."

"When you feel ready, there is a place where you can go that is where the dead are supposed to go. I do not know how to get there, but you will know when it is time."

"Until then, you can come with me. My name is Ragnar. I am going to take care of you."

Unseen save for two dozen sets of small footprints in the snow, Ragnar's ghostly children and the four dead adventurers who followed him slowly moved in to meet the newest of their number.

"We all will."

"I understand their concerns, Nadya, which is exactly why I suggested using this tower. If we do fail and the witch returns to exact revenge, this place of strength would give them a fighting chance; however, to each their own. I will respect the wishes of you and your people..." Her voice trials off while she watches Ragnar conversing with the spirits that followed him. If she had not felt their presence once before, that tugging upon her cloak, she would still consider him to be touched. The prints on the snow, even more proof of the enigma that was Ragnar. She did not realize it, but she was clutching her talismans while she watched the strange unfold... Her newly acquired talisman, the ice key, was cool in the palm of her hand...

The Tengu had said nothing, the pain of seeing the mothers grief was just as great as he had feared, and he had silently vowed his own revenge and declaration of hatred.
He personally didn't think the tower would have been much use, more likely than not holding it would have proven disastrous anyway, given enough time even he could find a way to dismantle it, so it's creator probably had even more control.
But since it was not an issue, he said nothing, just stared ahead with his unblinking eyes.

A good distance away, and unaware of a mother's grief, Warden continues to search for it's companion.

With determined steps, Warden approached a small cope of trees. Holding a moment, watching, adjusting direction slightly, then moving on. Surely, Fang must have taken refuge there.

"Show me to your town forge," Droviz says to Nadya. "If your people don't have weapons, I can probably knock some together from farm tools and such."

Nadya looks at Krystae "when we get back to Waldsby, speak with them. Your idea has merit, but they are cowards."

She turned and nodded to Droviz. "Of farm tools, we have plenty."

The spirit of Thora nodded at Ragnar and reached up to take the big man's hand.

Elsewhere, a small canine-like bush creeps out of the trees and greets Warden-of-the-Frozen-Knot.

Ragnar stood and moved near to the party again, a sad smile on his face.

"Hmmm...if we have the time, I am sure I could cook up something useful as well.
I am after all an alchemist of no small skill."

"Come", Warden spoke, and Fang followed.
They made their way back to the group, keeping a wary distance from Nadya, only approaching after being waved closer.
The creature following Warden fell into the same uncanny valley as Warden itself. It was all natural, and at the same time all wrong. Plants did not usually walk around and imitate animals.
Yet the wolf formed of wood, leaves, branches and roots even sniffed the air, taking in the scent of the creatures unfamiliar to him.
It stayed right next to Warden as they moved, close enough that their forms touched when Warden stood still.
"Are you going to prepare for battle? Against the bringers of frost? I can...help."
Goodberry: 2d4 ⇒ (4, 4) = 8
Warden momentarily seemed distracted, when over a couple seconds, a number of small nuts grew on it. Picking them, Warden held them out:"They are the tribute nature offers to those who help it."
Also taking some creative liberty with them. I'll gladly use survival to find some if necessary, but that seems to mostly be a theoretical limiter if people prepare 100's of goodberrys in a week of downtime by not memorizing anything else.

Ragnar had seen many strange and wondrous things since he had wandered out of the ancient woods. When the Warden had joined them, he had not known what to say. When his other companions treated the Warden as something normal, he had assumed this wooden looking person was just another wonder of the future. A Ghillie Dhu, perhaps or some kind of great Spriggan.

The hound, though, made him realize what Warden truly was.

His breath caught in his chest.

"Aos Si" he said to Warden with reverence. "I did not know you before. I am sorry. I know you now. Your presence, and that of your Cù Sìth is an honor to us."

"That's...old names...from long ago.", Warden is lost in thoughts a few moments, then nods:"But they feel right."

Placing one hand on Fangs head, wood rubbing against wood, Warden continues:"Alas, our - home, is in peril. We are bound to it, and part of it. It is faintly dreaming and far removed from this world...and it weakens us greatly. We stand alone...and it is us who are honored by the help you grant us in fulfilling our purpose.", finishing with a slight bow of it's head.

It's a four hour trek back to Waldsby. Nadya marches on stoically, carrying Thora's body the entire way. She refuses any help, even when she stumbles and drops to one knee. She simply grits her teeth, stands up and continues on. The trip is cold and quiet with the wind picking up and slicing even through winter clothes. Thankfully the walk is relatively short.

Once back in the village, Nadya reunites with her family. Together they lay Thora's body to rest with few words around a funeral pyre. The ground is too frozen to dig in.

"We head to Ellsprin in the morning. It will take about a week. From there, on to Whitethrone. It's only a few days from Ellsprin to Whitethrone."

Warden seeks out Droviz and Elen during the Journey

Later, at the pyre, it and Fang watch silently, standing as far away from the fire as possible without seeming inpolite.
To the formulation of plans, it simply adds: "The sooner we move, the sooner the one's responsible will be stopped." while nodding sagely.

Droviz watches the farewell in polite silence.
Afterward, he clears his throat. "If all you good folks got yer own steel, that's fine. If not, grab a spade and point me at yer forge."

Havelock will make a quick check to see if there is any material he could use to make some acid, poison or alchemist fire for the journey.
In a pinch, smoke sticks or tanglefoot bags would also work.

Do Nadya and her sons have any weapons training?

There was precious little that Warden could do to help Nadya and hers to ready for war, so it watched silently, and learned.

My pleasure. ^_^

Ragnar stood at the rear edge of the funeral silently holding hands with the invisible spirit of the little girl who's body burned on the pyre. Occasionally he nodded, or shook his head, or spoke quietly looking for all the world like a madman having a conversation with himself.

After the embers had burned down, the bloodstained giant quietly walked away, ignoring the looks from the villagers, settling up a workstation Havelock without a word. He took the time to finish curing the Tatzlewyrm and Giant Weasel skins he'd been carrying around. He scraped them free of the curing salts and the last remnants of flesh, stretched them on a makeshift tanning rack near Havelock's fire, and rubbed them down with oils to make them supple and waterproof. As he worked, invisible hands helped him, working additional scrapers, rubbing in oils, tightening the cords on the tanning rack. Not all of them were helpful. Some played in the soot of Havelock's fire, kicking up ashes or drawing pictures in charcoal.

Taking 10 on survival to finish tanning the hides.

When it was done, he cut a series of strips off the Tatzlewyrm skin and went about tailoring with a needle of hardened bone and thread of rolled and braided sinews.

He made himself an eyepatch of white wyrmscales to cover the empty red gash that had marked his face ever since he'd lost his eye to the crows.

When his work was done, he wandered to a frozen stream and cracked though the ice enough to bathe. He stripped off his clothes leaving the furs on the bank but taking the cloths and canvas in with him to wash. He did not seem to care about the cold. His skin was nearly as white as the snow and did not blush with the frost.

Cold Resist 2 and constant Endure Elements

When he emerged he dried himself and wrapped himself in his yeti cloak, then draped his wet clothing across the drying racks near the fire to dry.

Once everything was dry and he was dressed and clean again, no longer a dirty, bloodstained mountain of a man, there was something regal about him. The white eyepatch gave him gravitas. The spirit children had gathered his wet hair into a single braid and forked and braided his beard as well. He wore the intricate carved claws of the Tatzlewyrm around his neck and the giant weasel's head now topped a Sporran pouch below his belt buckle. His face was still surprisingly youthful beneath all his seriousness and his scars, but he stood like a man feeling the weight of years. He seemed older than he had when he group had found him only a few months ago.

He looked like the barbarian prince from days of yore that he would have been if not for the curse of an ancient witch.

Krystae sends a prayer to Desna for the poor little girl. Afterward she planned to make her pitch to these people to seek the refuge of the tower... She approaches Nadya. "Could you please gather your people for a meeting? I would like to speak with them about securing that tower."

The village has a small apothecary shop stocked with numerous natural ingredients, complete with an alchemist's lab. The tools are old and simple but well maintained.

Most of the townsfolk are present for the funeral ceremony. The loss of the child is felt by everyone. They stand in silence for hours, taking in the warmth of the fire. Some lean on rakes and shovels, others on spears and pikes. Nadya herself stands stoically, holding the hands of her twin boys. Only the crackling of the fire can be heard.

Eventually the fire begins to die down. It is at this point that Nadya kisses each of her boys before moving to address the village.

"Friends. The white witches have taken so much from us. They have taken my husband, and...my daughter. For over a year now I have bowed down to their demands. Tried to barter with them and serve them. No more. If these strangers can stand up against them, then so I can. I would rather die fighting them than continue serving them, but I fear we cannot do it alone. We need your help. I...need your help."

Murmurs begin to traverse through the gathered crowd until eventually one older man speaks up. "What would you have us do? We are not warriors. Most of us don't even have decent weapons. I am sorry for your daughter, but they will do the same to our families if we raise arms against them."

Krystae steps up next to Nadya, places her hand on the woman's shoulder in support, and then address the obviously frightened villagers. "Perhaps you are not aware of the circumstances surrounding the death of Nadya's daughter. You were told she was taken as a hostage to ensure you acquiesced to the Ice Witch's demands; however, when we infiltrated that tower we learned the truth. The little girl was not taken as a hostage, she was taken as a sacrifice for a foul, profane ritual that trapped her soul into a doll. She was dead the moment she was taken from your village. You cannot trust this Irrisen witch to keep her word for anything. I promise that she will come and kill you all regardless of your next decisions. If she thinks you may have had even the smallest assistance with this... she will come to crush this village and you have absolutely no chance at repelling an attack here. If you move your families into the tower that we took, you will stand a chance there. If can be fortified and stocked with provisions. We can help to forge weapons for you to defend yourselves. To do nothing is to give up and you may as well throw yourselves onto your tools now if that is your decision. We can help you, but you must first be willing to help yourselves."

The Tengu professor stays behind for a moment, listening to the conversation going back and forth.
He yearned to speak up as well, but his mind was so muddled that he could not think what to say.
He wanted to...inspire? Rail? Intimidate?
No...he didn't truly know, nor even what he wanted to achieve by speaking.

A small part of him realized that until the conflicting backgrounds he had crafted for himself had settled back down, he wouldn't even know what or whom he was.
BUT, he was an alchemist, that was a core part of him, no matter what else he might be.

With suddenly determined steps, he headed to the alchemist lab, intending to make good use of the time he had.

"Those who don't stand up for their believes are the compost that allows weeds like the Ice Witch to grow. If poisonous vegetation takes root in your backyard, do you not remove it? Why, then, do you let them poison your souls without a fight? The hare that stares at the snake in fright is the one that gets eaten - the cat defending itself at least has a chance to win.", Warden offers helpfully, moving over to Krystae as well.

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (20) - 1 = 19

Droviz marches up and comes to a stop on Krystae's other side. Arms crossed, the masked warrior looks over the villagers - and then starts to speak in a hoarse bellow, rather like a drill sergeant at boot camp:

"All who want to help themselves, like the lady says, GOOD AFTERNOON! You say you're not warriors! You say you don't have weapons! THIS IS YOUR LUCKY DAY! Your Uncle Droviz is here for you, and he has been soldiering and mercing FOR MOST OF HIS LIFE! I can train you! I can make you weapons! You put yourselves in my hands, and I will BEAT YOU INTO SHAPE! You will not enjoy it! You will curse your Uncle Droviz a thousand times! But when the metal hits the meat, you will bless me! I will not make you into shining heroes, but I can teach you to march as one, fight as one, to gang up on your enemy and gut them like pigs! You want to live long lives, hole up in the tower or break for the border. You want to fight? THEN TAKE ONE STEP FORWARD!"

They are pressing too hard, these people are angry and scared, and right now, WE are the nearest targets if the fear breaks and leaves only anger...
But I do not know what to say...

Krystae & Droviz, make Diplomacy checks with a +2 bonus. Warden, I'm adding +2 to your roll as well.

There are roughly 150 humans present for the funeral. Many whispers and murmurs traverse the crowd. Eventually a few dozen of the braver souls step forward. They raise their hands or tools in the air proclaiming their willingness to take up arms.

You can take as long as you want here; days, weeks, months even, but the longer you delay, the more likely certain events are to happen. Nadya would prefer to move sooner rather than later.

The town itself does have a few resources. There is a blacksmith, carpenter, sawmill, apothecary and a handful of magical items.

What kind of magical items we looking at? We have a ton of stuff to unload here. I'm thinking a lot of the excessive gear (armor/weapons) we picked up from the tower would be perfect for offering trade to the citizens here for magic items. Then we don't have to waste of much time creating weapons.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 6 + 2 = 21

Diplomacy 1d20 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 1 + 2 = 12

The rest of the village finally agrees that it's time to take a stand against the White Witches, although some begrudgingly so.

Warden has few skills that could be of use to prepare the populace to fight, and will stay away from fire, preventing it from helping with smithing.

It has no such fears regarding Alchemy, the involved fires smaller and less hot, and will gladly assist the Tengu Professor in his endeavours. With stoic patience, it watches things bubble, distill, or mix.
Take 10 to assist.

The fact Warden does not actually seem to sleep may be beneficial for those processes taking longer, yet still needing to be observed or handled in a certain way.
It also continued to miraculously produce tiny nuts that had healing properties and the nutritional value of a full meal.
Warden would also continue memorizing one goodberry-spell, the ones otherwise going to waste useful as food substitute, allowing more rations to be prepared. However long we stay, 3 days worth of goodberrys should be available at the time of departure - Amount Goodnuts: 6d4 ⇒ (4, 1, 2, 2, 4, 4) = 17

Fang, meanwhile, wanders around the perimeter of the village, holding perfectly still at times, watching out for hidden observers. At night, it will return to Warden, and they'd stoically keep watch in front of the building where the group rests, together.

Stealth: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

Elen is quiet during most of the meeting with the villagers, finding herself tongue-tied by shyness at the many strange humans. Oddly, she finds no such feelings when speaking to Warden -- perhaps it is so different from elves and humans that it doesn't make her feel self-conscious.

Krystae would be interested in the Studded Leather +2. Its a little pricey, but I don't have any magical gear yet. So if you fine folks don't mind, I would like to pick that up.

Elen certainly has no objection.

I have not yet managed to contribute to the party loot, so obviously no objections here :) - That said, Warden/Fang are designed to need little gear, except the mental stat boosts for Warden, and Physical ones for Fang...so in general, once Warden earns a "share", that will be freely available for dipping into for purchases(meaning an automatic yes to such requests)

Fine by me.