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The sleepy village of Heldren in Taldor has rarely seen so much excitement or concern. During the last week, hunters from the nearby Border Wood speak of unnaturally cold weather despite it being the height of summer. 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.
Heldren’s only tavern, the Silver Stoat, stands right on the town square across from the town hall. A fixture of village life, the tavern fills up with patrons in the evening as they gather to share gossip, hear news, and reward themselves for a hard day’s work. Anything that’s worth knowing in Heldren gets talked about here, and if asked where he got a particularly juicy bit of gossip or information, a villager will likely say, “I heard it from the Stoat.” Husband and wife Menander and Kale Garimos run the Silver Stoat as if it were their family kitchen—there’s always a seat at the table or a space by the hearth for a guest, or a warm bowl of Menander’s hearty stew for an empty belly. Menander works in the kitchen, cooking up his famous venison flank steak and numble pie. Kale tends bar, serving up the tavern’s signature brew, Three Devil Ale, which she brews in-house using imported Chelish hops. Heldren doesn’t get many visitors, so there is no true inn in the village, but travelers are welcome to a spot on the floor of the Stoat next to the fireplace for a night.
It is a brisk morning and many of the villagers, including the mayor, have gathered for breakfast at The Silver Stoat.
Vivialla Steranus, the human female proprietor of the general store has invited you to join her for breakfast to discuss purchasing bows. Normally, she doesn't carry much in the way of weapons in her store, but the recent rumors have created a new demand. She is seated at a table when you arrive.
Your ability to perform for the unusually large crowd of newcomers to the town has endeared you to Menander and especially Kale, earning you free meals and lodging, as humble as the accommodations are. As you take a place at the bar, Kale greets you with a hearty and warm, ”Good morning!”
The morning noise disturbs some rather vigorous snoring that in your half-wake state, you can’t tell if it’s you or not. You sit up groggily from a wall bench and face the table. As you put your head in your hands to rub the sleep from your eyes and ease the pressure of your hangover, your arm is vigorously nudged from the side. Next to you is a smiling, shaggy-haired man. ”Thanks for the drinks last night, friend. Hair of the dog?,” he asks, holding out a flask.
"Lord Cayden yes.... a thousand times yes, my friend." Totho answers the blessed angel offering him the god's gift.
He accepts the flask, takes a long drink, sighs and says "Blessed be .... blessed be"
Entering the Silver Stoat, Aerryndöl kicks the dirt from her boots and pulls the hood of her cloak back to reveal the mauve highlights in her otherwise frosty hair. She'd been back in Heldren for two days and already sold a newly constructed bow. The Border Woods had been lovely she thought. The cold, crisp air flowing through the forest sent the birds and the vermin alike into a frenzy. Even though they felt the bite of winter upon the northern winds, their instincts had told them it should be summer.
Looking about the tavern, she spots Vivialla already seated by the fire. Keeping her eyes to the floor, she makes her way past several patrons she recognizes. Not that she knows their names; she has yet to speak with many of the townsfolk much less the travelers that have been flocking to the small hamlet. But she rarely forgets a face, having a keen memory. Aerryndöl smiles broadly, "Good Morning to you, Vivialla," and takes a seat opposite the merchant.
From under her cloak, she draws an ornate longbow and lays it upon the table. The white, frosted pickling of its finish, highlights the intricate carvings upon the masterfully crafted bow. A dragon's body is carved out of the riser of the bow with the grip coming just below its chin while the upper and lower limbs look as an outgrowth of the dragon's mane and tail. Aerryndöl had never produced such a grand bow before, and she was sure to use it to her advantage in the negotiations.
"My personal bow. It's my most recent work... and while it is a bit grandiose, the craftsmanship is unparalleled in these parts of Taldor, I assure you!" The sylph stares at the bow and smiles with pride.
"Why yes Kale, it is a most excellent day! Thank you again for your generosity to a new comer in your town. You have good people here." Risk takes out her lute, unconsciously strumming a Desnan prayer hymn as she sits down to the bar. "Kale, can you tell me where I can find 'Old' Mother Theodora? Desna often works through prophecy, and I would enjoy the opportunity to talk to Theodora about her visions. Does she come into town often?"
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Vivialla looks over the bow, inspecting it from every angle. ”Lass, I can find no flaw in the crafting of it. But we are simple folk and anything this ornate would be wasted.”
Kale shrugs and replies, ”Easy enough, she lives on the west edge of the village. Her house is the very last one you’ll see.”
The stranger laughs. ”They do say that he likes a swig or two, don’t they? And you deserve it after the show you put on last night with the local boys.” A vague memory washes over you, some kind of friendly wager having to do with wrestling.
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"Fantastic! You are such a dear. Menander is lucky to have you."
Totho stands a little unsteadily and walks a crooked line over to the fireplace where a bucket of water sits on the floor. He sets his feet, lifts the bucket, and plunges his head in and shakes it underwater for about 10 seconds.
When he raises his dripping head back up from the water he lets out a long "Ahhhhhhh....." and replaces the bucket on the floor.
He walks back over to sit next to the man with the flask.
"Did we meet last night? My recollection is a little fuzzy." Totho says to his fuzzy-haired benefactor.
"In case we haven't been properly introduced, Totho is my name." he says extending his hand.
"Oh, of course... the ones I could make for you would simple and elegant with little or no carvings. Just smooth, polished oak and a leather grip. "
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”Ahh, that would sell much easier, especially with the strange weather.” Her voice lowers to a near whisper. ”They say the Qadirans are doing it with dark magic.”
”Thank you, dear. That’s very sweet. And true,” she says with a wink. Her wry smile turns dark as one of the locals enters. With only a little prodding, she says, ”Jon there has a farm out in the Border Wood. His boy took ill a few days ago after falling through the ice over Wishbone Creek. The boy says he spotted a white stag in the forest—and heard it talking—then tried to follow it. Can you believe it? I should go ask after the boy.”
Before the stranger can answer, an older man sits at your table without invitation and shakes your hand with an overly firm grip. ”Old Man Danby here,” he offers, seemingly proud of the nickname. ”You’re one of them adventurer types, a’intcha? Maybe you should do something about this here unseasonal frost. Half my crops died and the rest carried off.” He seems to be completely ignoring the stranger.
The bard's eyes casually follow the newcomer."That is a story worth hearing. Mind if I join you? Perhaps I can be of assistance. Maybe after Aerryndöl is done with her business, she and Totho can join me to talk to the young man himself if he is up to recount his tale."
"Welcome Danby!" Totho replies "I was just enjoying a libation with my new friend ...." Totho continues, giving pause so that the shaggy-haired man can supply his name.
Hearing her name said aloud over by the bar, Aerryndöl looks over her shoulder. Risquelyn is speaking to Kale about me? Perhaps, she wants a new bow... I didn't realize she used a longbow...
The thoughts continue to play out in her head as she turns back to Vivialla. "Qadira? They aren't ones to summon up cold weather! I mean, Qadira is an ancient rival to Taldor, but the land is quite dry and hot," Aerryndöl says cocking her head to the side. Or, perhaps, Risquelyn wants me to make her a shortbow...
"Very strange the people should suggest such a thing, don't you agree?" she continues, occasionally looking back over her shoulder towards the bar. She wouldn't require one with a strong pull... she looks strong enough, but... no, no, no, a simple shortbow would do... "Beyond the distrust of the Satrap, what gives them cause to suspect the Qadirans?"
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Each of your conversations is interrupted as a young boy runs into the Silver Stoat and shouts, The room explodes in a cacophony of noise.
Mayor Ionnia Teppen is a stern-faced woman of middle age with graying hair. Like most of the locals, her skin is leathery from hours spent working in the sun. She stands up from her breakfast, and waves the crowd to silence. ”Boy, what are you talking about?”
Realizing that all eyes are on him, the boy stammers, ”Th-th-the Ul-Ulfen warrior… with the Lady. He says they were attacked. A-a-and she was t-taken. He’s at the apo-apoth-apothecary.”
The boy is likely referring to the bodyguard of Lady Argentea Malassene who created some stir in the town the day before simply by being a noble traveling through a small village. One of her bodyguards was a large Ulfen mercenary.
Vivialla simply says, ”Qadirans,” as if the rumors have been confirmed.
"What's this then?" Totho asks in surprise as he stands up quickly (and surreptitiously steadies himself with one hand on the table).
"Mayor, I have healing magic. If I may have your leave, I would try to assist the Lady."
"Ladies in distress are my specialty!" Totho declares as he steps forward to join the conversation.
Aerryndöl Nods at Vivialla =, "Quite Possibly..." She stands and grabs her longbow. Walking over to Risquelyn =, the Skype smiles, "Perhaps, I can help as well."
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Mayor Teppen considers it for a moment. ”Hmm, it isn’t village business, so I suppose you may visit this guard with me and procure details.” Several members of the village council indicate that they are coming as well.
The group exits the Silver Stoat and makes its way to the Willowbark Apothecary, where the wounded bodyguard is recovering. Wrapped in bandages, the Ulfen mercenary’s nose, fingers, and toes have taken on a black hue from serious frostbite, and he is still heavily wounded. Elder Safander, Heldren’s village priest, is tending to him.
Despite his obvious pain, the Ulfen offers his name, Yuln, and some details about the attack. Aparently, 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.
"How far from the village were you when you were attacked?" Totho asks the man.
"Can you tell us more about these winter creatures you said attacked you and carried off the lady?" Totho further queries the mercenary.
Aerryndöl listens carefully as the brawler interrogates the Ulfen.
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Yuln spits on the floor in disgust. "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."
"The White Witches of Irrisen?" she says aloud before she can control her surprise. She had heard the name from her mother many years before. She searches her memory for any tale she can recall.
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"Aye, the very same. Exactly 1,400 years ago, a powerful witch from another world named Baba Yaga showed up with her Dancing Hut. In a quick, brutal conflict known as the Winter War, the self-proclaimed Queen of Witches conquered the eastern Linnorm Kingdoms of Raemerrund and the Djurstor Confederacy and founded a new nation locked in eternal winter—the land of Irrisen. After installing her daughter Jadwiga on the throne as Irrisen’s first queen, Baba Yaga departed in her Dancing Hut, but she returned to Irrisen exactly 100 years later to replace Jadwiga with a new daughter, Morgannan, taking the former queen and the first generation of her descendants with her when she left again. Baba Yaga has continued this tradition every 100 years for the last 14 centuries, resulting in a succession of 14 queens of Irrisen. The Three Riders shall be riding soon, announcing her coming, curse her and her daughters."
The Jadwiga are the direct descendants of the Witch Queen Baba Yaga, who travels to Golarion once a century to install a new daughter to the throne of Irrisen. Even though Baba Yaga hales from somewhere else in the Great Beyond, the Jadwiga appear, and seem to be fully human. They are the ruling class of Irrisen, with the descendants of Elvanna, the current queen of the land, holding the highest political and social positions. The term Jadwiga comes from Queen Jadwiga, the first ruler of Irrisen, but is often mistranslated as "children of the witch-mother."
"What can you tell us about fighting these cold fey?" Totho prompts the Ulfen for more information.
Cold iron?! Of course! I shall need some arrows... Aerryndöl looks toward the door, hoping that Vivialla would be standing there, but the merchant isn't to be found. Maybe she will have some. I can visit her before leaving town for Border Wood. . The sulphur shakes her head and refocuses on the injured man. "Why do you suppose the fey, loyal to Irrisen, would kidnap your lady?"
"Valiant Yuln, do you remember any landmarks we should look for or what direction they carried her off? And these 'tiny' sprites, did the have aid carrying the lady? Anything you can tell us could help us bring her back safe."
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“As to why, I don’t know. But if one of the White Witches took her, no good shall come of it. The winter-touched do nothing without the leave of those who placed the ice in their hearts. If they’re here, it’s because a White Witch sent them. And much worse will follow.
“They went 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.” Even with the severity of his injuries, Yuln manages to look ashamed. “Would that I could go with you. My ancestors would ridicule my lack of valor for fleeing rather than fighting to the end. But I faced enemies that even the greatest warriors in the Linnorm Kingdoms have faltered against, though I think I slew at least one of them before they dragged Lady Argentea away.”
"Mayor Teppen, I will volunteer to pursue these creatures, discover the fate of the lady, and return her if possible. In doing so, perhaps the source of this unnatural cold can be discovered as well." Totho says to the mayor and the crowd as a whole.
"I fear I dressed for the regular season though and I will need to fetch a warmer cloak if it is as cold as our Ulfen friend says."
"Any that would accompany the rescue party should fetch weapons and warm clothes and meet back in the town square with haste."
"We shall find your lady," Aerryndöl says as though the rescue was a certainty. She nods at Totho, then turns and departs for the stables to retrieve Snowfall and gather her things.
"Rest easy my friend. Please, accept this gift from the Goddess of Dreams.
The bard softly prays and lays a hand on Yuln's chest, a soft warms seeping into the man's wounds.
"Close your eyes, meet Desna in her realm. We will seek out your Lady."
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The Ulfen mercenary nods his head, having said everything that needed to be said. He lays his head down, intent on going to sleep.
Mayor Teppen quietly says, "I'm glad that you are willing to pursue these bandits. Our village doesn't have the resources for a militia. Normally, the High Sentinels keep bandit activity curbed."
"Happy to lend a hand, but who are these High Sentinels? Should we wait for their help?" Totho asks the mayor.
"I would think that time is of the essence, Totho. We cannot wait for any military support," Aerryndöl says looking down at the Ulfen drifting of into unconsciousness. "I have one of my own, but perhaps a mount for Totho and," she glances in Risk's direction, "Risquelyn would be helpful if someone in town could provide them one. We would make much better time on the road."
"A beast of burden may slow us down, and I would feel terrible if we were to lose the creature. Let us make haste to Vivialla's and be on our way."
Totho buys a set of cold weather clothes at Vivialla's and is ready to go.
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Cold weather clothing is available at the general store, a remnant of a harsh winter from a few years back. Other than a bit of dust, they are quite serviceable.
After making your preparations, you exit Heldren to the south. The air grows cooler as you get closer to the Border Wood. Six miles down the road, you come upon the site of the massacre. 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. This close to the winter pocket, the temperature has dropped considerably, hovering just above freezing, and a light dusting of snow covers the ground.
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Totho advances to investigate the site of the massacre.
"Poor bleedin' bastids .... they didn't stand a chance" he mutters to himself.
Totho will check the ice statue.
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The remains of the Taldan captain tasked with escorting Lady Argentea from Zimar back to Oppara stand here as a gruesome statue, his slain body mostly encased in ice. Unfortunately, the captain’s body is no longer intact, pieces of him have been carved away and now lie in blocks of slowly melting ice at his own feet. Unlike the other bodies, the frozen captain still wears his breastplate, emblazoned with Taldan heraldry, and one of the chunks of ice contains the captain’s arm, still grasping his longsword.
Aerryndöl approaches the statue. With a wave of her hand, her pupils turn black as her gaze is now upon any magical auras that are present upon the frozen corpse.
"Whomever...what ever did this, has no concept of mortal compassion. From the looks of things, they were caught completely unaware. Why strip the others but leave his breastplate and sword behind?" The drow also uses magic to investigate the scene.
Totho will pick up the icy sword and arm and see if there is any indication why it was left behind.
Aerryndöl nods, "It does seem strange. Perhaps the severed arm was an attempt to loot the frozen corpse." She bends down to examine the arm and see if any blood was present where the limb was torn from the body. "I'm curious to know if the limb was severed before or after it was frozen. No sign of blood would suggest the latter."