Reign of Winter Adventure Path Table 2 (Inactive)

Game Master GM Sapphire Fox

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.

Tchort was sipping his morning tea when news of the injured bodyguard starting rolling into the inn; the clean white gloves that he always wore stood in stark contrast against the dark grain of the wooden mug. The snow that started a few days ago, though it gave him chills deeper than that of the mere temperature dip, had given him assurance that his trip was not in vain. Now this. Clearly something strange was going on in this sleepy village.

The soothsayer wasn't wrong, it seems. I'm glad I undertook this trip, though I still fail to see what it has to do with me. But she was insistent. I would learn more of my past in Heldren. Very well; let's go see what I can learn.

The tiefling adjusted the tail that he concealed within his clothing as he stood. He left some coins on his table to pay for the breakfast and tea, then left the inn, seeking someone from the village council. I'll have to offer my services to the village. See if I can learn more about what's going on in those woods.

Ulric couldn't help his grin as he wandered the small town of Heldren. He sympathized for the townsfolk worried about the strange weather and unnatural occurrences in the past few days, but to the wandering Skald this was a tale just begging to be told. His luck was almost too good to believe. The hulking half orc had trudged into town after long weary miles afoot after losing his horse to some particularly determined wolves.

Upon hearing of the small town ahead, he had mostly resigned himself to a short stop of suspicion before continuing his long walk. Unless he could find another horse, but he hadn't been holding out hope.

The fates must truly favor me to put such a mystery in my path. Imagine snow in midsummer, and in such quantity! Add monsters and, if the rumors are true, a damsel in distress. It is as if the gods themselves wish me my own epic saga

The Skald looks about town for a gathering wherein could offer his assistance. He would have to pose as a simple sellsword. Most humans would look at his hulking physique, fur and rune adorned chain and leather. Not to mention his clanking arsenal of sword, seax, axe and shield; and assume him a warrior, not a teller of tales.

Even fellow bards were often slow to accept his claims of membership in their ranks, though most warmed to him quickly once the ale and tales started flowing.

There must be a marshall or circle of elders or soemthing in this town..

When Ylosani entered down, it was likely no one noticed or paid any heed. Granted he was an elf, which was unusual but not rare. He was armed and armored, less unusual and certainly not rare given the number of dangers that existed in the wilderness that constantly pushed against the borders of any settlement. The bow strapped to his back was a more elegant and clearly old weapon than most people possessed but he could have been a trapper, hunter or mercenary looking for work, neither unusual nor rare.

But he was there on a mission and one that had been passed down to him by his ancestors who carried that bow since the time when most of his people had fled Golarion before the coming cataclysm of Starfall. That mission was to halt and push back the chaos and darkness that had been swallowing the world ever since that time.

He hesitated only long enough to ask directions to the most popular inn in town, not because he was looking for bed or beverage but because he was looking for information. He'd heard of the unusual snowfall and strange creatures in the area and had come to investigate them.

There was a reason why so many stories and legends started in inns and taverns. They were invariably hubs of information, a place where people gathered to share rumors, gossip and news while they were raising cups to celebrate their joys or downing mugs to drink their cares away.

A man was leaving just as he approached the door and Ylosani nodded to him, noting his pristine white gloves and marveling that the man was able to keep them that way.

He took a seat inside, sitting next to a table that had coins for payment and the remains of a breakfast on it. Tea seemed a good idea in this unusually chill weather and he asked for the same when he was attended to.

His order was made absently though as he listened to the chatter around him, seeking out information about what was being done about the strange occurrences and any more details about them.

A cold wind whipped through the air as Noxuria made her way through the streets of Heldren. She'd made many trips down to southern Taldor, often visiting Zimar. Although it's a military town, it really has a lovely view of the Jalrune River. Her husband had often worked "the military circuit" as he called it, putting on plays, singing bawdy tunes, keeping up the morale of troops. A tear fell from her eye as she thought about it. It'd probably been decades now, but she lost count.

The end of her scarf reached up and wiped her eye for her. She felt the satchel at her side stir as a small pink and white nose popped it's way out and sniffed the air. "Yes, it is a bit cool. I'm sure you'll feel right at home," she cooed to the nose. Hmm, it was summer wasn't it? Sometimes I forget.

Her coat pulled itself a little more snugly about her. This doesn't feel right. There's something... off. Kanina felt it, too. She stopped by a tavern, thinking she'd have a cup of tea before she journeyed on. She briefly nodded to the man with excellently tailored gloves who held the door for her as he left.

Settling down at a table, her skirt seemed to lift of its own accord to keep from scraping the floor. She patiently waited for a waitress to notice her and put in an order for black tea... and a biscuit. Why not? Kanina's nose popped out again sniffing the air excitedly for her treat.

"Yes, they do seem ill at ease. Perhaps it's the weather." Nox's ears pricked up slightly to see if she could catch snippets of conversations. One of Kanina's ears popped out as well, replacing the pink nose at her side.

Having travelled to Taldor to join the coveted Ulfen guard, Grindahl knew he would need to earn a reputation in the South before travelling to the Capital to test himself against the bars set by the best of his kinsman. Since arriving in Taldor business had been slow however and the Ulfen warrior was barely scraping by a living. Much of his savings - earned in raids against the witches of Irrisen and their Fey allies- was running out and he desperately needed new employment. That was when he learnt of the strange happenings by the border to Qadira, the lands around it where covered in snow to rival a Summer in the Land of the Linnorm Kings.

Travelling to Zimar, the centre hub of the freak snow storm, he immediately felt more comfortable. Questioning the locals as to the location of the Inn here, he listened to the rumours of an injured guard with interest. Standing by to let a Tiefling in strange white gloves past, the heavily built warrior steps in after the dainty elven woman. Wearing a heavy off-white coat which rattles with the tell-tale sounds of metal plates and is covered in heavy white fur, a Warhammer on his left hip and shield slung on his shoulder. Grendahl has long blond hair and bright blue eyes and faint ice-blue tattoos visible on his chest.

"Cold Ale and a room please," he asks the bartender as he reaches the bar.

___________
So I zigged and everyone zagged. Instead of messing around trying to fix that, I'm going to ret-con that intro and say that Tchort stayed at the inn, and is finishing breakfast with his tea as the others are entering the inn.

well, in that case Ulric will also enter the inn

After wandering the town for a bit, picking up the shuddering gossip of a newly frozen town, Ulric developed a powerful thirst, despite the chill of the unnatural snow.

Finding an inn, he enters quickly; shaking off the cold and stamping his booted feet at the entrance with a clank of chainmail and weapons.

Daring to lower his hood at the bar he orders a mead to shake the chill in his customarily stentorian voice. Receiving his drink he surveyed the bar, noticing several unusual folk for the region, including an elf and another Ulfen.

Remember, you are not really an Ulfen, you are an orc. He will not recognize you as kin. Walk softly

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I still admire your gloves

As do I, somewhat feel guilty as the only one not to mention it.

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for those wanting information give me a Diplomacy gather info, or a knowledge local check

knowledge (local): 1d20 + 1 - 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 - 1 = 9

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Lots of strangers in town right now, unless my eyes are wrong. Tchort had only been in town a couple of days himself, but Heldren was barely a village. The difference between a local and a traveler was stark, and obvious. I'm beginning to think the soothsayer was right. Here I find an unnatural chill... and a preponderance of out-of-towners. Myself being one of them!

He catches the eye of an elf woman who sits nearby, ordering tea, and nods his head. "They've a surprisingly good Jalmeray Black. You'll like it," he calls out as he continues to keep an eye on the room.

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 8 + 1d6 ⇒ (18) + 8 + (3) = 29 (free use of Inspiration on trained Knowledge rolls)

Everyone says the weather is unseasonably cold for
midsummer—it even snowed in the Border Wood!
Most suspect magic is involved, and some fear
Qadiran agents played a role in it.

Old Man Dansby claims that someone keeps
stealing from his fields. His farm lies closest to the
Border Wood, where half his crops have died from
an icy frost and the rest have been carried off.

A farmer’s son took ill a few days ago after falling
through the ice over Wishbone Creek. The boy said
he spotted a white stag in the forest—and heard it
talking—then tried to follow it.

A group of rangers in the Border Wood called the
High Sentinels usually keep bandit activity curbed.
They’re doing a poor job if brigands could attack a
well-armed caravan and abduct Lady Argentea.

Locals say a hunter named Dryden Kepp claimed he
saw a giant white weasel on the High Ridge in the
forest. No one believed him so he went back to trap
it and prove them wrong.

Two weeks ago, Lady Argentea Malassene traveled
past Heldren on her way from Oppara to Zimar to
meet her betrothed. Rumor has it the two didn’t
get along and Lady Argentea caused a scandal by
calling off the engagement and returning home.

"They've a surprisingly good Jalmeray Black. You'll like it,"

Nox inclines her head. "Why, thank you. I will try it." After receiving her tea, she sips it gingerly, and smiles. She gracefully slides her chair away from the table, stands and approaches the helpful fellow.

"You have excellent taste, in tea as well as clothing. Mind if I join you? I have always felt that tea drinking is properly a social experience."

Without really waiting for an answer, she pulls back a chair and has a seat. The waitress brings out the biscuit that she ordered and she begins to break off small pieces. The satchel at her side begins to squirm as she has a few bites and slides a few bits into the satchel.

"Better. Do try a biscuit. They aren't half bad with a touch of fruit."

Ylosani was just about to use feats of logic to convince the waitress and locals to tell him everything they knew when someone beat him to it.

The elf gaped, his mouth hanging slightly open as it seemed that every patron stopped by the other man's table to tell him everything they knew. Given the information the man garnered, Ylosani was a bit surprised they didn't tell him what everyone had for breakfast.

He moves to a closer table to eavesdrop and when the torrent of information finally ends, he actually pulls up a chair at the table shared by the lady elf and the man with the gloves. Not waiting for an invitation.

"You have an amazing capacity for gathering information," he comments. "Do you plan to utilize any of it?"

Shaking his head as he is quizzed by other clear outsiders as to the strange happenings occuring in the village, Grindahl ensures to listen in as he sips his bitter drink, ensuring he is ahead of the game when working out how exactly to tackle the issue. Looking around the Inn at the fellow out of towners he is interested to see not only two elves but also a demonkin and a fellow traveller from the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. It was clear from his dress that he was born to an Ulfen tribe, though his skin and tusks marked him as an outsider. Grindahl could relate to that, having been 'Fey Touched' in his youth, giving him the fearsome ability to change.

Deciding to greet the only man he might have a shred of common ground with, Grindahl finishes his mug and moves to the bar to order another. Turning to Ulric he nods and holds out his hand, bare despite the snow outside. "Vel hitti frændi." he greets the other in Skald. "How is the mead?"

Tchort has been in town for a couple of days. Let's say that the information from his roll is what he's learned from listening to the town's stories over that whole time; it makes a lot more sense than it all happening here in a span of minutes. What can happen in a span of minutes, though, is Tchort telling the same tales to Nox when she joins him at his table, which is what Ylosani and any others overheard.

"...and so there you have it. Giant weasels, talking elk, raids in the night, and of course the snow in the Border Wood! It's pretty certain there's something strange going on here." He concludes summarizing the last few days to Nox when another elf joins them at his table.

He nods to the newcomer. "We can add 'two foreign elves in town' to my list of strange occurrences in Heldren, it seems. Please do sit down. Yes, I am hoping to use this information, if I can. I think I'd like to start by meeting this bodyguard from Lady Argentea's caravan. I get the sense that the two of you might be available to help investigate, no? Are you here together?"
______________
Fwiw, Tchort's infernal heritage is currently not obvious. The gloves he wears are to conceal his claws and his tail is concealed within his clothing. It will become obvious to party members soon enough, I imagine, but Tchort tries to keep it on the down-low as much as he can.

"Vel hitti frændi." he greets the other in Skald. "How is the mead?"

Ulric brightens as he hears his adopted tounge, turning and taking the proffered hand.

"Well, met", then nodding to his drink, "the mead is thin and weak, as expected for these southern climes." surveying the tavern, noticing two elves and another man in, fine fancy gloves.

"Many interesting visitors in the small town today, does the strange weather bring you here?"

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a bit of time passes its still early when the village council, led by a female walks in and asks the inn keep a couple questions. The keeps only noticeable response is him motioning over to your gathered group, she nods and thanks him, and walks over.

"My name is Ionnia Teppen" her eyes looking at Tchort "We are here to ask for your help. The rumors you have heard about the unearthly winter that has recently appeared in Border Wood are true. A rider from Zimar arrived in town the previous day with just some foreboding news." she looks back at the council a bit and motions for them to go on.

an elderly man continues to speak but addressing the group more then an individual

"The rider, an Ulfen mercenary named Yuln Oerstag was part of the guard escorting Lady Argentea Malassene from Zimar to Oppara. the caravan skirted the border wood, however the carriage came under attack by bandits and strange wintery creatures. Lady Argentea was carried off, and Yuln was the only one to escapre, He is badly wounded but he was able to describe the horrific creatures that attacked the party." his voice trails off a bit as Teppen steps back in addressing the group.

"We barely have enough to mount a defense for the town, and was wondering if you would be willing to help investigate, and rescue Lady Argentea and if possible to determine the source of this threat that lies out in Border Wood"

"Tervetuloa, ystäväni. Liity meihin."

"Hmm, it does seem an odd coincidence, but we did not come here together. As I was saying, I was on my way to Zimar, but it seems as though it may be wiser to travel in groups than alone if the road is not safe."

Her attention is drawn away by the approach of the town elders.

Following Teppen's request:

Nox smiles. "Well, Tchort, it looks like it may be easier than expected to speak with the guard. It seems Fate has laid a path before us."

"Eithel govannen,ystäväni."

He takes the seat and raises an eyebrow as the unusualness of two elves randomly and separately arriving is pointed out. He is a bit disappointed to discover she is here only by chance, though he is curious about the abilities her actions hint at.

"I am here about the snow. It bodes an evil that must be faced and stopped." He answers.

He gives a faint, curt nod at the councilwoman's words.

"This man can give us answers that may shed light on all these things. I would have words with him."

Ulric looks up from his conversation as the lady walks in and gives her speech. "Sorry brother, but I'd like to hear this."

Listening to the plea for help he couldn't help but be pleased, this was exactly the story he'd been wandering to find.

The Fate's truly must be smiling at me on this day, first the town, then a fellow Ulfen who didn't spit at my heritage, now the council comes to me and begs help, instead of the reverse. Today is a good day

Stepping away from tge bar he addresses the newcomer. "Aye lady, I will offer my services. I intend to discover the cause of this strangeness with the weather, and will try to find your missing lady."

Stepping back to his mead he mutters to his companion, "and maybe as a reward they will serve some REAL mead, ah one can wish."

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[ooc]Ugh, sorry guys, I've been having problems getting dot alerts for my games.[/b]

A Varisian man, his body wrapped in scarves steps forward as he pulls down the one protecting his face to reveal a handsome, jet black hair young man.

If you would excuse me... but I would like to join you as well.

He smiles disarmingly and bows.

My name is Yuukyou... I'm a fortuneteller, and I've been following the signs of the stars for a long time. They have led me here, and have directed me to join this band. I'm not sure why, but it seems my fate has been tied to yours.... perhaps the gods think I might be useful to you in rescuing this fair maiden who has been taken from this land?

He nods to Nox and smiles.

Fate has pushed us together and guides us it seems. Hopefully, fate means for us to be heroes in this tale, and not the stars of a tragedy.

Before the Council meeting

"Aye that is about the right of it Kinsman. I decided to journey south to join the Ulfen Guard of Taldor, but you need a fine reputation for that first!" He says as he chuckles about the mead, ordering one anyway. "I was on my way to the Military outpost, thought I'd earn some coin and stories in the battles there when I heard about the winter in summer. Too good an opportunity."

As the council walk in and the woman begisn to speak to the gine gent and his elven companions, Grindahl nods to Ulric and listens also, his face grave with the evils afoot. Pondering the matter and realising it was exactly what he was waiting for he stepped forwards to greet the lady.

"Ah'm happy to help. A Taldor noblewoman in danger? Let us speak with the Guard to see what he can tell us."

upon hearing your agreement, she will guide you to Willowbark Apothecary, where you see a couple of folks injured from minor scuffles, though in the way back, as if positioned there for long term care, you see the body of a man wrapped in bandages, his nose, fingers and toes have taken on a black hue from severe frostbite, as well as other injuries that are being tended too.

Ionnia takes her leave and heads back to the council to attend to other matters

When he gets up to follow Councilwoman Teppan, he makes a small adjustment underneath his garments before following.

At the Apothecary
"You don't look good, sir. Is that frostbite?" He looks at the others, unable to conceal his concern.

"We're here to try to learn what is happening out there. What can you tell us of what happened to you?

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (17) - 2 = 15

Following the group to the apothocary, Ulric involuntarily shudders at the sight of the once proud warrior, he mutters to Grindahl. "Better to die in battle than be reduced to this, I pray this town has skilled healers."

Seeing that the man with fine gloves seemed to be taking charge of the conversation capably, Ulric contents himself to lean against a back wall and listen, closely listening fornthe beginnings of the epic saga he would soon author.

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Yuukyou looks at the man and pulls out what seems to be a deck of cards. He flips over one, stares at it for a moment, and shakes his head.

It does not take a fortune teller to see your past is full of pain my friend. Please, enlighten us so we may guard our future.

diplo: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Ylosani joins the group, including the two northerners and the seer as they go to the apothecary. He looks at the man in bed with pity, but also hopes the town's healers are up to the task of helping him.

He lingers near the seer, feeling an immediate kinship with him given the similarities in their magics. He's curious about Box and her magic, too.

He listens closely as the bedridden man musters himself to tell his tale.

Nox winces at the man's condition. Her coat shudders as if moved by a non-existent breeze. In the shape he's in, he's lucky he made it back at all.

"Is there anything we can do to help this man recover?" she quietly asks the apothecary.

not sure how P'finder handles healing frostbite damage

Shuflfing out of the tavern with the other strangers, Grindahl keeps an eye out for things out of place, apart from the white snow in what should be summer of course. Satisfied they are free from Fey treachery he steps into the apothecarion with the rest, feeling a tad foolish for so many of them crowding around.

"Aye, I am sure he can handle it, to die in bed infirm is a hell." Grindahl replies to Ulric quietly, before turning to the guard lying in the bed. "Well Met kinsman, we would rescue your charge whilst you rest. Please, tell us what you know."

“We thought they were just bandits
at first—outlaws who hide like wolves in the forest. They
were no match for us. But then came the cold fey of the
north. They appeared among us and the battle turned
quickly. My people speak of the winter-touched all the
time, but I never expected to meet them this far south.”

"Winter-touched fey?" Tchort asks, hesitantly. That sounds... familiar. But why?

"These fey, are they the ones that took Lady Argentea? Was she hurt in the attack?"

Ulric starts at the mention of winter touched fey. "Winter touched? This far south, who would have thought such a thing. " he settles for a moment, in thought.

"This weather is no mere whim of nature, I fear, there may be something more happening" turning to his Ulfen companion, "have you heard of anything like this from your kin? In all my travels I have not."

Ah, my story grows in scope. This truly will be a great tale

Knowledge (nature?): 1d20 + 1 - 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 - 1 = 11

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Yuukyou stares at a card from his deck for a moment and shakes his head.

Wintertouched is indeed a bad omen this far south. We should make haste, surely they will take the lady quickly north to their wintery homelands.

"Hmm, If there are fey about, we may wish to arm ourselves with a bit of cold iron. Do these winter-touched share that vulnerability?"

Ylosani remains near the back of the group. The space is small enough that the man must feel crowded, anyway. Pushing his way forward would only make him feel more claustrophobic. He does throw another question at the man, though.

"Can you tell us more specifically where the attack took place? Perhaps we can track these fey and their victim from there."

“Into the forest, back through the ice and snow. Beyond that, I don’t know. I followed as far as I could, but the winter-touched were
too many and too hard to fend off in the snow alone. I
barely escaped, and rode to seek help here.”

“Fey creatures who have sworn themselves to the White Witches of Irrisen,
those who stole our lands from us during the Winter War. Tiny sprites no taller than the length of a man’s forearm. But don’t be fooled by their small stature. Legends say they have taken a sliver of ice into their hearts, and their touch bears the harsh bite of winter.”

“With cold iron and burning f lame. Both burn them,
and both are weapons they fear, and if ye need it, you may use my cold-iron longsword to help rescue lady Argentea."

when asked where it took place, he does show in a general area about 6 miles south of town.

Grindahl spits at the mention of the Winter-Touched his face twitching in barely concealed anger. Those creatures had ruined his life, or so he believed and now he was shunned by most who knew him due to their malevolence. If they were this far south it was his duty to rid Taldor of the menaces. Looking around the gathered outsiders, Fellow outcast, Elves, Varisian and Noble gent he smiled grimly. They might be misfits and strangers now, but there was more than one tale that saw such a band forging the strongest bonds.

"Aye, our tale begins here methinks. I shall gladly take your blade and use it upon Fey flesh, Kinsman." Ulfric answers, fists whitening as he clenched them.

"Sir--I don't believe we got your name--unless I am a poor judge of the mood of this room, I think we're all offering to help." Hearing the murmurs start to rise behind him, about shopping for cold iron and other equipment, Tchort nods at the Ulfen warrior to take their leave.

"We are going to take your advice to heart, and go see whether this little village has ever seen a need for cold iron weaponry; maybe we'll be lucky. There will be something to help one way or another, I am sure."

He turns and begins making his way out, stopping first at the front of the shop, looking for the owner.

While he waits, to the others, he explains, "I'm wondering if the Apothecary might be a place to find alchemist's fire. Maybe not, but she should be able to point us the right way. I think we should also probably equip ourselves for the cold; he came back with frostbite. I don't want frostbite."

Nox nods sagely. "Nor do any of us, I'm sure. Nasty affliction." She shivers for a moment just thinking about it. Her coat shivers even after she has stopped.

"If there are none available, I might be able to make some, but it would take time that I don't believe we have. Perhaps we could grab some lamp oil for now, and I'll try to work up some alchemist's fire along the way."

Not happy (but also not surprised) to find no alchemist's fire at the Apothecary, Tchort continues looking for useful shopping before they head out. "Could you point the way to a shop where we might find useful potions or scrolls? And how about a general store where we might find cold weather gear."

"Aye, I have acid but no fire and it does seem that pressing on might be better than waiting around. My thanks for your blade Kinsman, we shall of course return it." Grindahl replies as they make their way to leave, Grasping the Guard's hand in a warrior's grip he nods before heading out, admiring the clearly Ulfen craftsmanship of the weapon. Buckling it to his belt he listens to the talks of preparation outside.

"Hmm, I do have some spare furs and a skin vest to keep ya warm should ye need it." he replies, "This coat here keeps me plenty warm!"

"potions might be found at the temple, but it is a small town, I am unsure of their stock"

Outside ofnthe building Ulric rummages through his pack before daying: "we had better see what the general store has in stock for cold weather gear. Six hours is a long hike in deep snow, we will need cold weather equipment. Tents too, maybe a pack mule."

6+ hours walk is probably gonna mean overnight, I'm not sure if tents are worth their weight.

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who all needs cold weather gear?

I already bought my cold gear, and figured that was just part of the 'oh it's cold now, I'll get geared up' phase of the story. Does anyone want to check out the potions? Good idea on the mule!

Ive got cold weather outfit, furs and skalds just seemed like the right fit

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I also already bought a cold weather outfit. And a potion of healing. I think the mule is also a good idea and would chip in for it...speaking of...did we already get the wand? Who's carrying it?