RoW: Let's Thaw the Frozen Stars! (Inactive)

Game Master Daxter

Saying nothing, Ankih slumps in preparation for the inspection. Tired and ready for any chance to rest...Much like a slave would...

The white haired woman comes over and wrinkles her nose in disgust. "Humans and their fondness for water-creatures. At least it helps to keep a little fat on their bones." She walks up to Shanya and grabs her head roughly, tilting it from side to side, inspecting the flesh on her face. Eventually she releases her grip, but leaves small bruises on Shanya's face from the force of her grip. "Don't worry, sir, this will be quick." She gives a cursory inspection over the group, noting with disinterest their daggers and clubs as she cradles her own greataxe over her shoulder. She does not bother, however, to inspect the cart.

As she finishes, she approaches Sven again and motions to a side alley. "Please, would you mind stepping over here, I would like to ask you a question."

Sven clenches a fist in anger when the guardswoman roughly handles Shanya but he tries to remain calm. He silently hoped this whole plan would turn to violence and he could give her a bit of rough handling of his own. He'd never liked the idea of striking a woman but did this wolf in woman's clothing count?

Breathing a sigh of relief when the inspection is finished, the big ulfen is visibly puzzled by the request for private questioning. Did she notice something that had tipped her off? Was Nadya's uncle more known than he'd believed? ”As long as it’s only a moment”, he grunts in reply as he steps aside.

Shanya fights the urge to claw the guard's eyes out with her nails as she roughly grabs her head.

Ouch. Keep quiet--can't jeopardize the mission.

Seeing Sven get pulled aside sets off warning bells in her head. Uh-oh.

She strains to listen in...

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28

Avora's grip tightens and her heart skips a beat when Sven is pulled aside. She silently wishes she had her spear, but keeps the words to her spell on her tongue.

The woman stalks powerfully and without hesitation into the alley and waits for Sven to join. She turns and stares at him with a hint of challenge in her eyes. "My name Greta. Stranger, would join me for some of the human drink - vodka, I think they call it. You are clearly a mighty hunter, but you lack the tokens of bonding. I seek someone like you to hunt alongside. You have a certain way about you, I can tell; I can smell it; I know my hunts with you would be long and... pleasurable. What may I call you, hunter?"

SM: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

Sven ponders Greta's proposition, trying to glean the meaning of it. The big man was never going to turn down a chance to share a drink with a magnificent woman but he was anxious about the hunts she was interested in. Did the worgs hunt humans within the city?

"Sven", he answers plainly. "And I am a mighty hunter. I do not plan to be in Whitethrone long but I might spare some time to share a drink with a beautiful hunter such as yourself."

Wincing as the woman grabs Shanya's face, Ankih fingers his Silver dagger. Running his memorized spells through his mind, just in case.
He will also listen for trouble from Sven's direction..
perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28

Greta smiles in victory. "Well now, this should be a treat. I must be here for two more hours performing pack duty, but we could meet me at the White Hunter tavern at the edge of the district and share a few hours together." She provocatively licks her red lips and plays with her stark-white hair. "Perhaps you can show me the things you can do with that human body. You wear it so well."

Though he’s a bit surprised by the turnabout, Sven’s a great deal more at ease once he recognizes what Greta’s after. It was something familiar in a this frozen cursed land. Obviously hunting humans was out of the question but looking for a good tumble was something he wasn’t going to fault the she-wolf for. The brawny northman gives her a wide smirk and nods. ”Two hours. At the Hunter.”

Breaking away, he returns to the gate and gestures for his 'retinue' to follow.

Well, that wasn't what Shanya expected to hear.

"Well, you work fast, Sven." She whispers, glancing about before falling in line.

Sven shares that smirk with Shanya briefly before resuming his stoic man-wolf persona.

A knowing smile crosses Kalt's face, though even he can't help but shake his head very slightly in disbelief. Some things never change, I can rely on that...

Shanya takes a bit of time to walk next to Kalt.

"Is he always like this? You seem to know him better than anyone here..." She whispers, an eyebrow quirked as she looks between him and Sven.

"Always and everywhere," Kalt replies quietly, suppressing his smile before it becomes too obvious. "I'll tell you a story or two when we've a little more room to chat, and a few pints of ale to hand. But he once wooed a dairy maid - while we were in the middle of a cattle raid."

Ringeirr grunts in Sven's general direction and raises a bushy eyebrow. He starts pushing the cart forward again, and Greta lustily eyes Sven as the group moves away.

The streets of the Howlings wind back and forth crookedly, and are lined with wooden houses covered in intricate and detailed woodwork. Unlike in the Fishcamps, even the poorest homes are in good repair, pleasantly decorated, and painted a clean white or light pastel colors. The rooftops are steeply pitched to allow heavy snow to slide off. Covered alleyways run between some closely adjacent buildings, sheltering groundfloor entrances from the elements. In other places, open-air bridges or crosswalks join buildings together at their upper levels. Snowdrifts lie heaped between houses, but the streets are shoveled and brushed clean. There is little sign of domestic animals, but handcarts are parked outside some residences.

Other then the lupine cries, the streets of the Howlings are quiet, especially in comparison to hustle and bustle of Taldoran cities. Ringeirr pushes the cart perhaps half a mile into the district.

Once away from the gate, Ringeirr only comments once regarding Sven's behavior. "You've got interesting tastes in lovers. I hope you know what you are getting into, and I hope it doesn't come back to bite us."

The hairs on the back of Shanya's neck stand up. "We're being followed. Something blue." She whispers, suddenly feeling very naked without her gear to protect her.

What was that?

She racks her brain, searching for anything that could help... what was following them?

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

Kalt senses a threat close by just as Shanya speaks up, catches a glimpse of something blue darting into hiding. Having fought more than a few blue-skinned winter fey in his time, he thinks on whether he recognizes what he's just seen.

Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

Sven chuckles at the fisherman’s warning. ”I don’t know much but I know women and Greta is just looking for a good time. You know the cruelty that this place is steeped in better than any of us. You don’t think their kind suffer loneliness too?”

The big man shakes his head as if act of denying the darkness around them was enough to banish it.

”How many turned to the Witch Queen’s side because there was no other way. How many serve Elvanna for that same reason today?”

Noting the sensation of danger, the big man’s hand goes to the axe at his hip.

I don’t imagine detecting evil as a means to picking out threats isn’t going to be very useful around here.

As if saving the world from endless winter wasn't complicated enough.

This is why you gotta roll like Kalt, my man. One night with the lovely Nadya and I send her packing. After pining after her through the whole first book of the AP.

I hope you don't do that with EVERY prospective bedmate, Kalt.

I feel like it's far too early in the movie for our 'friends with benefits' arrangement to come crashing down around us.

I hope you don't do that with EVERY prospective bedmate, Kalt.

"You got somethin' in mind, baby?", Kalt asks in the most awkward tone you can imagine.

I feel like it's far too early in the movie for our 'friends with benefits' arrangement to come crashing down around us.

Seriously. They don't call it an adventuring 'party' for nothing, am I right?

Shanya wrote:

I hope you don't do that with EVERY prospective bedmate, Kalt.

"You got somethin' in mind, baby?", Kalt asks in the most awkward tone you can imagine.

Shanya glares at Kalt, clutching herself and shivering from the cold.

Happens every damn time in Irrisen, ya get the cold shoulder...

Kalt turns his attention away from the taut ribbon of tension he can sense between Avora and Sven, focusing on the threat at hand.

The blue forms suddenly spill out of hiding, surrounding the group with bows. One goblin, on rooftop, appears to have some sort of incendiary in hand; he shouts down from the rooftop (in Skald):

“Leave the fish cart, longshanks! Run! Get out of here!"

Map updated

Shanya sizes up the goblins, her eyes darting between them and Sven's rimepelt.

Local scavengers. Likely hungry, but also likely to be intimidated. They're monsters, and have more rights and respects than humans... but Sven is a 'winter wolf'. Yes, this should work...

"Feel free to try and take it, vermin." She eyes the goblin with the bomb. "You must have great courage or a death wish to interfere in the business of the winter wolves." She nods at Sven. "Surely you've heard of our master, Sven, He Whose Breath Is Long Winter? How he slaughters the boldest of warriors who dare challenge his might and ravishes their women? Perhaps you've heard of Zord Gutstab, a goblin champion who thought himself Sven's equal?"

She pauses. "No? Funny. Because if you don't leave now, that's the same answer we expect from the next person we ask about you."

Bluff: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29 +2 if attracted (unlikely) = 31

Kalt draws the dagger he's kept and looks menacingly at the goblins while adding to Shanya's story, "She's right, ya know! You've no idea how many goblin wenches he's ravished!" Anyone who knows Kalt would be able to spot the bright glint of humor behind the fierce look in his eyes.

Bluff, Aid Shanya: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (12) - 1 = 11

Sven eyes the foolish goblins but forgoes his axe in favor of clenching a mammoth fist. He remains silent while his friends pile on the threats - as wild as they are. He does his best to suppress a chuckle and maintain the persona that had been painted for him. Instead he growls and stares down the speaking goblin, sparing a glance at Kalt with the same glint of laughter.

"And when I'm in a rage, I get indiscriminate in where I take my pleasure. Now make yourselves scarce before you really piss me off. Challenging a wolf is stupid, even for fools like you."

Intimidate (includes size bonus): 1d20 + 9 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 9 + 4 = 25

Ankih groans at his friends words, getting horrifying images of the large Ulfen man in congress with wretched goblin women.
Milady help me , I think my companions are crazy. But maybe that is what's required to prevail. Surely no sane person would attempt what we are!
He remains quiet, but grips his dagger and prepares to cast if needed.

Lana glances around at the goblins. "Sven," she adds softly, "please stay calm... remember what happened to the last city where you became angry?"

Intimidate to Aid (size bonus): 1d20 + 5 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 5 + 4 = 23

The thought of having accosted a winter wolf seems to strike mortal fear into the goblin gang. They look at each other nervously before breaking down into numerous, simultaneous, apologetic conversations both in Goblin and Skald.

"But, hair not white..."

"Oh, many apologies... we thought stupid human..."

"No mean harm. Please don't eat! Wolves ate cousin."

The leader jumps off the roof into a snow drift, disappearing under it. A few moments later, her bursts out and rushes forward, throwing his pouch on the ground.

"Please, we hungry. We give treasure if you give just a few fish."

He looks piteously up at Sven with piteous red eyes before throwing himself prostrate into the snow. The rest of the goblins quickly scatter and hide behind various carts and corners. They seem to stay, though, curious as to if the great wolf man will give them some fish... or perhaps eat their chief.

Shanya smirks. All too easy.

"Well, master?" She turns to Sven. "Have they been forgiven for their ignorance?"

Sven continues to growl and then scoffs dismissively. His words a moment ago weren't forgotten. A little mercy goes a long way.

He grabs a pair of fat fish from the stack filling the cart and tosses them to the groveling leader-goblin.

"Because you amuse me. Now get out of here before I change my mind."

As the goblins hastily collect the fish Sven has given them, Kalt tells them in a fierce tone, "Warn your little goblin women! Sven Winter-Breath has come!"

He then catches Sven's eye and gives a faint nod, as if to say, Nicely handled, that.

"Yes, yes, thank you oh great Sven." the leader barks in Sven. The goblins look perhaps a little disappointed at the meager offering, but know better then to question one of the lords of Whitethrone. They quickly scamper off with their meal, retreating into the alleyways from which they take their name.

Ringeirr nods in approval at the adept handling of the situation; he begins to push the burden forward once again.

Sven scoops up the offering and tosses it to Shanya.

”The little creatures are a nuisance but they deserve a chance to eat too”, he mutters softly among his friends.

”Let’s keep moving.”

Shanya catches the pouch and looks inside.

Potions, and a couple of vials of liquid ice. Wonder where they got these from...

She pockets the pouch with a nod. "Indeed. Let's get to where we need to go--I'm tired of walking about without my gear."

The group presses forward through the Howlings, trudging through the eternal snow crud of Irrisen.

About a quarter of a mile later, the group passes an alleyway where a darkly cloaked figure seems to be observing something.

It turns a bit and comes into profile, although it's focus seems diverted elsewhere. When it turns, it is easy to see the figure is far from human, or even winter worg. Where a face would be, there is only a mirrored surface.

What do you do?

Shanya has +8 to Knowledge (Arcana)...

Shanya's eyes narrow as she sees the mirror-faced figure.

"Mirrored man, off in the alley." She whispers. "A construct with an independent mind, crafted from people." Shanya shudders at the thought. "The Witches can see everything they can see, but they're vulnerable to being smashed. They're somehow susceptible to magic that affects a person's mind, unlike most other constructs."

"I recommend we keep moving. Don't draw attention to ourselves."

The big man’s hulking frame shivers a bit at the sight of the creature. Beasts and monsters were one thing but there was something disturbing about objects given malevolent life - stolen life.

He nods at Shanya’s suggestion and quickens his gait a step.

Crafted from people? Gods, I've a mind to put this whole place to the torch...

Kalt keeps moving with the rest of his companions, trusting in their disguise to keep their presence from being noted by the mirrored man and his witch masters.

Is our quest doomed from the very start? How can our small band free an entire nation from the likes of these witches?

Avora presses on quietly.

The mirror man turns, and in its face is a miniature reflection of the heroes. Its body language is impossible to read. Who can say if it displays curiosity or concern at seeing the group?

It begins walking towards the party at a brisk pace. One can't help but note the creatures legs are bare underneath its cloak. The legs are clearly human, but white, shriveled, and unfeeling of the cold snow through which they walk. It holds a single longsword in its equally shriveled hand.

It speaks in a deadpan tone, speaking perfect but emotionless Skald "Halt for questioning"

Shanya's blood freezes as the mirrored man approaches.

"Don't let it question us. Break its face--the Witches need time to cast their mirror-scrying magic." She whispers to Sven.

Would I have time to retrieve my light mace from the fish wagon?