He glanced back at the man. "What's a White Witch? And do you know whereabouts in the woods they might have taken her?"
"They are the cold b@!+@es who stole our lands from us during the Winter War. Their pawns, the winter-touched are not to be trifled with. They are fey creatures who have sworn themselves to the White Witches of Irrisen. Tiny sprites no taller than the length of a man’s forearm. But don’t be fooled by their small stature. Legends say they have taken a sliver of ice into their hearts, and their touch bears the harsh bite of winter.
I know little more than what I have told you, other than it was where the road nears the forest, nearly 6 miles down. I was fueled by little more than fury during my pursuit into the forest. It felt like the middle of a northern winter in there." He tries to adjust his shoulders and return his neck to a more comfortable position on the pillow as he grimaces."Anything else?"
There is a light knock at the front door as the familiar frame of Axel steps into the apothecary. Today, he looks ready for a journey. A light green cloak draped across his back almost hides a large tome on his hip. A silver chain trails from a belt loop to the weather worn book. "Hello?" he calls out while walking up to the counter. "Is anybody here?"
"Nothing more, good sir. Do rest and avoid any sudden heroics during your recovery."
Standing up, he nodded to Tesseraea to indicate that he was finished with the man, and left the guest bedroom, quickly covering the distance of the back room and moving into the shop area. As he stepped into view, he nodded his head in greeting.
"Welcome, Axel. You've arrived at an interesting moment. The survivor from the noblewoman's guard that was ambushed was brought in for treatmeant under Miss Willowbark, and I had a chance to ask him a few questions. Our musings in the Tavern may have more weight behind them than we initially thought; he speaks of feyfolk and creatures of the north ambushing him amongst the bandits. Something more about a 'White Witch'," he waved his hand dismissively "...but in any case we will have to be very careful on our outing today."
Axel pulls out his journal and scribbles notes. "Feyfolk? and what kind of creatures? did he say? I knew there are animals and a rare few fey in the wild, but many could prove very dangerous indeed. perhaps these "creatures of the north" may be related to our albino weasel. everything seems to be connected here. I have a strange feeling about all of this, from the weather to bandits to this sudden appearance of the supernatural. You are right, we must be extremely careful today. When the others arrive, perhaps they will have some insights that we have not thought of." Axel sets his pack down and uses it as a stool scribbling away at his notes and drawings.
Nodding, he moved over to the far side of the shop area and opened a cabinet, lifting out what looked to be a complete set of scalemail armor. While not particularly fancy or ornate, it was fairly well kept, and the sun coming through the window glinted off the steel scales revealing its cleanliness. As he continued conversing, he began the process of assembling the armor on his frame.
Shuffling the main shirt over his head and down upon his shoulders, he pulled the mail over his gambison and straightened it out as he spoke again. "Are you capable? Can you fight?" He reached into the cabinet and produced second a pair of gauntlets, thick steel pieces of solid metal with dangerous barbs running the back of the fist about an inch apart. He set these aside for now, and set to assembling the smaller components of his set.
"Not in the same way as you it would seem." He gestures to the book at his hip. "I tend to take the mind-over-metal approach. Knowledge is my blade and intellect my armor. Do you know much of the arcane arts?"
|
Jezzera looked down at the mug Kale had merrily passed his way. He only looked, but did not touch or drink - it was not for lack of want, as the man was no Teetotaler by any stretch of the imagination (indeed drinking is a favored pastime of Clan Frost, especially among its Shamanic orders). The wintry ale before him, however served only as a meager reminder of the bright copper berry wines and roasted grain that composed the potent potables of his homeland.
He reached out for his first sip - the ale of the city was bitter in comparison. The brewmasters of Clan Frost were renowned for their use of ancient recipes passed down for centuries, hops and malts from all over irrisen giving a frothy and spicy character to their stout winter mead. This simple peasant's ale was far cry from Jezzera's home, and it stuck in his chest as a reminder of the distance he'd traveled. However the longing for drink is strong and his endurance for any kind of foul taste even stronger.
Please forgive me for my odd behavior earlier, he said through a long sip of cold drink, I am not used to getting along outside my clan. Things are very different in the tundra.
Kalhar? came a thin but dark voice from behind the door. This is Jezzera. I've arrived for our journey. He swung the door open and strode through, making sure to remember closing it this time. I see the Wizard is also here. We await only the Green one and the Woman then.
Jezzera caught himself almost immediately after ...and the Woman then, stopping suddenly as he noticed the wounded man before his friends. He surveyed the damage, his face hardening.
“Would that I could go with you, I've been shamed but it will take me days to recover she says, possibly longer for my pride.” He grunts a bit. "Carry flame and cold iron, it gives you a chance."His face contorts as he fights the drugs to stay awake, a battle he is quickly losing.
"What, like magic?" he asked, and shook his head as he tightened some hardened leather bracers. "Not like spells, no, nothing like that. Mostly just properties of stuff. I mean, I can mix lilac essence, a little bit of ether flux, and about half a teaspoon of owl eye and make something like a healing tincture - but that's not really magic. It's just alchemy, anyone could do it."
After the bracers, came the greaves. Sitting down on a stool behind the counter, he set his foot up on a shelf behind it and started fastening those buckles. "I was in the militia in a town not too far off for a little while." he declared, matter of factly, but followed it up with nothing.
As Jezzera entered, he raised his hand momentarily as a greeting. "Oh, hey. Welcome. We were just preparing ourselves. Things have gotten a bit more grim than last night."
"don't sell yourself short my friend. I know a bit of alchemy but what you propose is all but a foreign language to me. Perhaps we could share our knowledge sometime."
Axel fixes his attention on the injured man after Jezzera enters the room "Sir, could you possibly describe these creatures you saw? I know it's painful so just tell me what you can."
|
|
This is apparent. I gather this fellow is a victim of the woods?
Jezzera had come in much the same attire as the day before. This time however, a thick strap had been slung over his tanned leather overcoat. In it sat several stones, honed into near-perfect spheres. From his medicine bag emanated powerful scents of incense and musk.
I, too, have prepared for this day, he uttered. It appears we will likely have need to protect ourselves.
"cold...tiny...fey...told you" The drugs seems to have taken him under.
"He's a bodyguard, of that noblewoman I mentioned last night. She was apparently pulled from her escort by both bandits and winter-touched sprites of some kind. Something about Winter Witches from Irrisen making a right cold mess of the situation."
Next, he produced a simple tabard, black with gold edges, and the crest of Heldren adorning the front. Quickly, he threw it on, and then tied his belt - full of many vials and materials (nearly as many as the casters themselves) - and finally a single bandoleer across his chest filled with curiously full flasks. "Tess, do you have any cold iron? Perhaps a pestle or a spade, or anything at all? It doesn't need to be a weapon."
Tessaraea seems to snap to at the mention of her name, her eyes leaving the wall for the first time in minutes. "Hmmm, I do have something of the sort, let me dig it out." She roots around in a box, before bouncing up like a prairie dog and heading for a separate box. "Ah here it is, some simple shavings and powders made to melt to the blade, it should service you.
A sudden light comes to Axel's face as he flips furiously through his notebook muttering to himself before finding a page and exclaiming "aha!" he claps a hand on his mouth for a second and begins speaking in a low voice again "I knew something sounded familiar." he shows the gathered people a page with the crude sketch of a small winged creature with incoherent scribbles in the margin " It seems we were right when suspecting the White Witches. They possess the knowledge of a ritual that infuses a fey-creature with a sliver of ice. This not only empowers them, but it also binds them to the will of the White Witch that performed the ritual." He closes the book with a bit of a worried look. "This may prove very dangerous indeed and I fear I do not know any spells that conjure fire. I'm glad we have many people going as there is much safety in numbers."
"Well. That sounds just dandy. I'll have to make a stop at the local smithy before we leave to pick up something that can take care of feyfolk." he tugged the last bit of his armor - the spiked gauntlets - tight, and stood, flexing his equipment as he looked himself over. "Been a while since I put this stuff on." he remarked, nonchalantly, and indeed he seemed to lack any sort of apprenhension or excitement about their upcoming task.
Sarlene stumbles into the apothecary, looking ragged. Good sits, did we say something about a mission of sorts today, eh?! Dawn was my goal, but ale my villain.
Axel moves to the door to assist the haggard woman. "Aye. We've had some developments overnight though that affect our excursion. That man there was ambushed in the woods while escorting his liege Lady. He says there was more than just bandits but fey creatures as well. If his tales are to be completely believed, these are not the typical capricious sprites that call these woods home but little ice blooded thralls of the White Witches from the north." His face is a mixture of worry and excitement. "I've never seen these creatures in person and the chance to study them is exciting but these Winter Witches are rather powerful. I trust you can handle yourself in the wilds?"
Before the door has finished closing the familiar towering form of Daegan slips into tje apothecary. His attire is identical to that of the day before, albeit minus the stack of pelts.
Ah, I see we're all here. I apologize for my lateness, I had some business to attend to before we set off. Are you all prepared?
"I believe we are. We all seem packed and ready to head out. Since we might be encountering fey in the woods, those of you with martial prowess may want to stop by the smith to see if he sells anything made of cold iron."
Knowledge nature:
Cold iron? I suppose it might be useful, I've never quite understood its properties though. Perhaps some rags and oil as well, I could make flaming arrows.
ugh keep that blasted metal away from me. It give me the shivers. Frightful stuff. Ill resort to other options.
The wares available in the town are as follows.
The Armory has a selection of simple arms and armor—crossbows, bolts, spears, javelins, as well as a few suits of leather armor, padded armor,and light wooden shields. These are used to outfit any militia and will have to be borrowed.
The smithy has a varied but not exotic selection of simple tools and martial weapons, including 10 +1 cold iron sling bullets, and a masterwork suit of banded mail.
The General Store carries a wide supply of adventuring tools and equipment, including 5 sets of cold-weather outfits, an arrow magnet, and a ring of force shield. Heldren does get some traffic due to its location on the road respecting Zimar.
The Temple of Erastil has a scroll of aid, and a wand of magic weapon (24 charges)
Individuals in the town may have more, but it would take time to inquire.
The natural meetup point after you've prepared yourselves would be the statue of the Lady in the middle of the town square. You know that the Caravan was accosted roughly 6 miles south. It'll be nearly midday by the time you set out.
At a base speed of 20ft. This walk would take 3 hours.
Sarlene and Stephen are sitting at the base of the statue. She appears to be speaking to the bird, but it's words that few would recognize. She has an old, tattered book in one hand, but slips it into her pack as Kalhar, Daegan, and Axel arrive.
Sarlene may have a distaste for cold iron, but she isn't stupid. In fact, quite the opposite. Weighing the benefits of a new blade versus the icky feeling in her skin when she wields it, she asks the smithy to prepare a cold iron dagger - a very simple one.
As Kalhar arrives, she waves, and attempts to load the new blade in her wrist sheath.
Flexing his fingers around his new cold iron shortspear, he leaned up against the statue casually, waiting for the group to finalize their preparation.
She looks up, smiles, and addresses her approaching comrades as they gather. Well, it's a bit of a walk, sirs, but worthwhile, eh?
She gathers her things and readies for the walk ahead.
Axel sits on the ground, leaning against the base of the statue, writing in his journal. He seems restless with anticipation.
"Most certainly. Who knows what we will find out there? Should prove interesting at the very least"
Deadly... interesting... funny how you confuse those, sir Axel.
Sarlene smiles as she says this. She seems equally curious.
The walk isn't so bad, the road is just soft enough to cake some dirt to your boots. The massacre site, where the forest grows close to the road, isn't so hard to find.
Near the forest, the temperature grows noticeably colder. The road ahead is littered with debris and the corpses of slain humans and horses. A carriage stands in the roadway, its team of horses missing or cut free, while another overturned carriage lies sprawled and broken next to the tree line. To the south, more bodies have fallen around what appears to be a statue of ice. A snowy trail leads deeper into the forest.
The temperature has dropped considerably, hovering just above freezing, and a light dusting of snow covers the ground.
Sarlene's smile, almost ubiquitous, grows larger as the temperature falls, even despite the scenes of horror around her. She throws a heavy coat around herself, and wraps a scarf around her neck. Stephen flies along overhead.
Sarlene looks excitedly at the snow, a childish joy in her expression. Snow! Well, dead bodies and nasties, but snow! She excitedly murmurs on about the snow for a few moments.
Seemingly unbothered by the chill, Axel takes in the scene with an expression of horror and intrigue. He pulls a rolled up parchment from a pocket as he advances with the group toward the scene destruction. "Well I guess our friend was right. Nothing but the frozen creatures of the north could have done that" he gestures to the statue. "I wonder if they are still about..." as his gaze sweeps the surrounding trees, searching for signs of movement.
|
|
Jezzera's eyes narrowed against the bitter wind. He pulled his hood about his ears to protect himself from the cold. These things in the forest, he growled. I fear for the worst already. The silence is too heavy.
Jezzera gripped the extra strap from his leather sash in one hand, ready to remove it at a moment's notice. His other hand fiddled with a handful of pungent glass vials in his medicine bag. His eyes swept across the snow in the way he trained himself to since childhood.
Be alert. Your weapons at the ready if you plan on using them.
Sarlene is too excited. Her eyes do not scan the woods. She ignores Jezzera's warnings. Instead, she gleefully grabs handfuls of snow. Stephen swoops down and flicks her on the top of the head. She stops her obsession, and returns to reality.
After looking at the serious and determined expressions of those around her, she steadies herself, shakes off the snow, and ejects the newest dagger from her sheath. She begins scanning the woods. Her expression solidifies.
The taste of the north, that steel on the tongue... oh how I missed you, sweet mother...
Axel seems enamored with the statue, as there wasn't something right about it. Upon closer inspection the remains of a Taldan captain stand here as a
gruesome statue, his slain body mostly encased in ice. Behind the ice his breastplate is emblazoned with Taldan heraldry, and one of the chunks of ice contains the captain’s arm, still grasping his masterwork longsword.
I've updated the Combat Map document with an overhead look of the Massacre Site.