The drowned body's possessions include a battleaxe, a light wooden shield, chain shirt and a finely crafted helm decorated with swirling carvings.
Nearby a sack holds three days trail rations, two torches, a half-full wineskin and some old goat cheese.
The second body is clad in leather armour, his longsword remains in his scabbard but a well crafted shortbow (mwk) and a quiver of ten arrows rests against the tree where his body hangs. An ornate amulet of carved pewter in the shape of a hammer hangs from his neck.
Moving cautiously through the undergrowth Hrafn sees the swollen body of a young warrior. He lies face down in a shallow pool his cold hand still tightly grips his axe pointing upwards on the ground. The axe is grimy with dried blood.
"He didn't even fight... whatever killed him - some kind of sickness?"
Hrafn's voice trails off.
"Oh, poor Unn. She will want to know..." Hrafn moves to see where Dorvarr has found another corpse. "Both her sons. This is a cruel blow."
"Unn's sons? This in a pity. Since returning the bodies will not be possible, perhaps we should burn them here?"
"He didn't even fight... whatever killed him - some kind of sickness?""Oh, poor Unn. She will want to know..." Hrafn moves to see where Dorvarr has found another corpse. "Both her sons. This is a cruel blow."
"Sickness? No... I say it is a curse, black magic, or some sort of devil... followers of Loki must be behind this... is that not so, Dorvarr? Poor Unn... this is very bad news... We should bring the amulet back to her..."
As your band stands over the bloody corpse of Unn's son your eyes wander further into the Temple Grove.
Further on past the small bubbling sulphurous pools, the dense trees and thick brush of the forest give way, parting seemingly in respect for the titanic Waleska tree that dominates the clearing beyond. Several times smaller than a temple minaret, in one direction the obviously ancient tree reaches into the sky with branches like a giant's arms, while in the other massive roots thicker than a man's wasit plumb deep into the moist earth. Its limbs broad and strong, its bark thick and so richly coloured by the strange moss that grows thickly here. The giant things is less a tree and more a cathedral of boughs and branches. This tree must surely be the source of the elderwood moss that Unn spoke of.
On the northwest side a large hot spring pool lies and stretching all around the base of the towering tree is a loose circle of moss-covered standing stones many askew at odd angles. Bizarre and ancient glyphs partially concealed by the plant life are inscribed at the heads of these stones. A black marten stands upon the head of one of these stones regarding you curiously.
As Vladimir ponders funerary rites appropriate to such brave men he sees that some of the loose forage and smaller jack pines could service for a pyre for Unn's two sons.
Knowledge(nature) DC 12
Knowledge(nature) DC 14
Knowledge(nature) DC 16
Vlad notices the pools and remembers a story told to him by one of Halfdeane's rangers, of feywomen emerging from pools and driving men to madness with their songs . He carefully loosens his sword in its sheath, then scoops up a little mud in his off hand. He holds up his other hand for quiet, then points towards the pools.
"Perhaps we should step carefully around these parts- rusalka have been known to haunt groves like this one. We should be on our guard..."
"Perhaps we should step carefully around these parts- rusalka have been known to haunt groves like this one. We should be on our guard..."
"Be on our guards? Smart men would leave... and I think we should be smart men -- let's get what we need and get out of here..."
"Perhaps we should step carefully around these parts- rusalka have been known to haunt groves like this one. We should be on our guard..."
"True spoken, Vlad. Yet the rusalka's song can be a boon, as well as the bane it proved to Unn's sons."
Hrafn too picks some mud from the ground... "Listen all. The rusalka can cloud men's minds with their song. If anything seems strange or you start to think unwelcome thoughts... then stop up your ears."
As your ready yourself for the dangers of the Temple Grove you espy a gathering of mist on the surface of the pool near the central grove. A shape seems to be taking form. A female figure with pallid skin and flowing silver hair and adorned in white robes begins to surface from the distant pool. Her cold eyes regard you expressionlessly.
As your ready yourself for the dangers of the Temple Grove you espy a gathering of mist on the surface of the pool near the central grove. A shape seems to be taking form. A female figure with pallid skin and flowing silver hair and adorned in white robes begins to surface from the distant pool. Her cold eyes regard you expressionlessly.
Ragnarr's eyes widen in fear as he witnesses the apparition, and he starts to tremble like a leaf. "More sorcery," he murmurs in his gravelly voice. "Friends, give the word... and Thor as my witness, I shall bury my axe in this witch....
Ragnarr's eyes widen in fear as he witnesses the apparition, and he starts to tremble like a leaf. "More sorcery," he murmurs in his gravelly voice. "Friends, give the word... and Thor as my witness, I shall bury my axe in this witch....
"Peace. Make no move yet. We may be safe... if we are wise. Friend Ragnarr, I suggest that you be ready to stop up your ears if she starts to sing."
"Peace. Make no move yet. We may be safe... if we are wise. Friend Ragnarr, I suggest that you be ready to stop up your ears if she starts to sing."
"Aye, sound advice. Let's see what we can learn before we test our might again."
The stout man stoops to grab something to put in his ears, should the need arise.
The figure stands in the pool for a moment and then with an abrupt motion her mouth opens as if to gasp in air. Her milky white eyes shoot wide open.
The waters ripple and voices sound as if emanating from below ground.
"You have disturbed the slumber of the three sisters below. Have you come to share our dream or to awake and release us?"
An image appears in the reflection of a nearby pool. It is a night ages ago just before the dawn. Pale moonlight shines down through the branches of the grove. A congregation of black robed figures bearing torches stand about the megaliths circling the great Waleska tree. Three maidens clad in white are dragged bound into the waters. Horrible screams of desparation issue from their lips and are then cut off as one by one they are pushed below the water by the black robed priests. As the third sister is drowned the first rays of the dawn's light shine and shimmer upon the calm waters.
A second voice sounds from the pool; "Answer the riddle of the Grove and you shall receive its boon."
A third voice emanates "Fail and you will dream with us..."
The standing figure turns to face your band directly; "You may still leave in peace travellers or will you accept the challenge of the Three Sisters Below?"
Knowledge (Religion) DC 10
Knowledge(Relgion) DC 15
Pale moonlight shines down through the branches of the grove. A congregation of black robed figures bearing torches stand about the megaliths circling the great Waleska tree. Three maidens clad in white are dragged bound into the waters. Horrible screams of desparation issue from their lips and are then cut off as one by one they are pushed below the water by the black robed priests. As the third sister is drowned the first rays of the dawn's light shine and shimmer upon the calm waters.
A second voice sounds from the pool; "Answer the riddle of the Grove and you shall receive its boon."Knowledge (Religion) DC 10
** spoiler omitted **
Knowledge(Relgion) DC 15
** spoiler omitted **
"Uh, Dorvarr... that ritual seemed some sort of sacrifice. Any ideas about it or this riddle?"
"Aye lad, the black ones I've seen before. Worshippers of Skoll, the beastly wolf that chases the sun and is fated to swallow it in Ragnarok. What the ritual has to do the wolf is something I'm still pondering..."
The figure gazes at you coldly. "You have not fled so I take you accept our challenge. Here is the riddle of the Three Sisters Below" The three sisters raise their haunting voices in unison as if part of a ghostly choir:
I saw a wonderful creature carrying
Light plunder between its horns.
Curved lamp of the air, cunningly formed,
It fetched home its booty from the day's raid
And plotted to build in its castle if it could,
A night-chamber brightly adorned.
Then over the east wall came another creature
Well known to earth-dwellers. Wonderful as well,
It seized back its booty and sent the plunderer home
Like an unwilling wanderer. The wretch went west,
Moved morosely and murderously on.
Dust rose to the heavens, dew fell on earth--
Night moved on. Afterwards no one
In the world knew where the wanderer had gone.
The maiden standing erect in the pool pauses for a moment: "Answer who we are and release us from our shackles but take care for the Three Sisters will provide only one chance. If you fail you will dream with us in the waters."
The figure gazes at you coldly. "You have not fled so I take you accept our challenge. Here is the riddle of the Three Sisters Below" The three sisters raise their haunting voices in unison as if part of a ghostly choir:
The maiden standing erect in the pool pauses for a moment: "Answer who we are and release us from our shackles but take care for the Three Sisters will provide only one chance. If you fail you will dream with us in the waters."
Hrafn stands, motionless and thinking.
The figure gazes at you coldly. "You have not fled so I take you accept our challenge. Here is the riddle of the Three Sisters Below"
Ragnarr seems about to flee as the ghostly figure proclaims that the party has accepted the challenge of the Three Sisters. At the last second, realizing that none of his companions seems ready to flee, he steels his nerves and stands his ground with them. The coarse hair on his body bristles somewhat as the Sisters begin their ghostly wail, and all colour drains from his normally dark face.
Vlad looks appropriately puzzled by the riddle, and leans against a nearby tree to think on it.
I saw a wonderful creature carrying
Light plunder between its horns.
Curved lamp of the air, cunningly formed,
It fetched home its booty from the day's raid
And plotted to build in its castle if it could,
A night-chamber brightly adorned.
Then over the east wall came another creature
Well known to earth-dwellers. Wonderful as well,
It seized back its booty and sent the plunderer home
Like an unwilling wanderer. The wretch went west,
Moved morosely and murderously on.
Dust rose to the heavens, dew fell on earth--
Night moved on. Afterwards no one
In the world knew where the wanderer had gone.
"A curved lamp of the air," he says quietly to the others, hoping that it wouldn't be counted as his answer.
"Could that perhaps be the sun? It comes from the east and goes westwards...Could this perhaps be about the gods Sunna and Dagr?"
Vlad looks appropriately puzzled by the riddle, and leans against a nearby tree to think on it.
I saw a wonderful creature carrying
Light plunder between its horns.
...
Then over the east wall came another creature
Well known to earth-dwellers. Wonderful as well,
...
Dust rose to the heavens, dew fell on earth--
Night moved on. Afterwards no one
In the world knew where the wanderer had gone."A curved lamp of the air," he says quietly to the others, hoping that it wouldn't be counted as his answer.
"Could that perhaps be the sun? It comes from the east and goes westwards...Could this perhaps be about the gods Sunna and Dagr?"
"My thought, Vlad," begins Hrafn in equally quiet tones, "is that the first creature is the moon, with curved horns. The second is the sun, well known and wonderful indeed. After that I am less sure; dust and dew; I am in doubt."
Hrafn looks at Dorvarr, hoping that the Thorsman will bring light.
I saw a wonderful creature carrying
Light plunder between its horns.
Curved lamp of the air, cunningly formed,
It fetched home its booty from the day's raid
And plotted to build in its castle if it could,
A night-chamber brightly adorned.
Then over the east wall came another creature
Well known to earth-dwellers. Wonderful as well,
It seized back its booty and sent the plunderer home
Like an unwilling wanderer. The wretch went west,
Moved morosely and murderously on.
Dust rose to the heavens, dew fell on earth--
Night moved on. Afterwards no one
In the world knew where the wanderer had gone.
"Aye, Lads, I'll agree with the assessments of sun and moon. It seems like the booty would have be light or darkness, most likely light. But something about the last few lines is nagging at me. Could Dust, Dew and Night be proper names? Would these ghostly creatures use a pun?"
"We saw these women sacrificed, offered up to... Skoll, did you say?" Vlad turns to Dorvarr, questioning him.
"So the question means 'who do they represent?'... am I correct? They are obviously not actually night, dew, and dust, but they represent these things, like when the shamans wear a wolf skin to tell the tale of the Ragnarok?"
"We saw these women sacrificed, offered up to... Skoll, did you say?" Vlad turns to Dorvarr, questioning him.
"So the question means 'who do they represent?'... am I correct? They are obviously not actually night, dew, and dust, but they represent these things, like when the shamans wear a wolf skin to tell the tale of the Ragnarok?"
"Dust is Earth is Freya? Dew is water is... bah, I don't know. Maybe Ragnarr's answer was the best." Hrafn looks worried and frustrated.
The grey figure stands motionlessly; "We await your answer."
Int 12
"I'm thinking the sisters represent sun and moon, a pairing. Mayhaps we're overthinking this..."
"Overthinking it... aye, perhaps. But are there not three sisters? Does that not... perhaps they are the sun, moon, and earth? No, that doesn't make sense, I think it's two. Blast these riddles!" Vlad is clearly becoming befuddled by this.
Vlad looks gravely at Dorvarr and Hrafn.
"My friends, you have not let me down before. I trust in your wisdom and I think whichever fate you choose for us will be correct."
Vlad looks gravely at Dorvarr and Hrafn.
"My friends, you have not let me down before. I trust in your wisdom and I think whichever fate you choose for us will be correct."
Slowly speaks Hrafn, ill-accustomed shaper of words, to answer the rhyme posed by these riddlers.
"You and you I name, as told in your tale; our sun most well-known and our moon chill and pale."
Facing their fear they wait for fate's answer...
The stout man's grip tighten's on his hammer as Hrafn steps forward to take the lead. "Good on ya lad. Glad t'see someone take over when the going gets tough..."
Vlad looks gravely at Dorvarr and Hrafn.
"My friends, you have not let me down before. I trust in your wisdom and I think whichever fate you choose for us will be correct."
Slowly speaks Hrafn, ill-accustomed shaper of words, to answer the rhyme posed by these riddlers.
"You and you I name, as told in your tale; our sun most well-known and our moon chill and pale."
Facing their fear they wait for fate's answer...
The ashen skinned woman holds her eerie poise for a breath as Hrafn replies to the rusalka's riddle. "Wisely answered, traveller. Now my sisters and I may finally lay down our burden and dream no more... Drink of the water of the pool and it shall bestow upon you good luck in the face of adversity. Anything else of the grove take as you will it is no longer ours to protect..."
Facing you the maiden's expression changes serenly to one of peace and in the shaft of light that she stands in it as if she is dissolved into foam. Cries of delight resound from below fading peacefully to a quiet murmur and then silence.The great thick trunk of the central Waleska tree and its ring of megalithic stones stands alone. A few coils of sulphurous mist trace trails above the surrounding pools. Luxuriant growths of elderwood moss entwine the wide trunk of the tree. A casual glance indicates there should be much more elderwood moss than required by Unn.
Facing you the maiden's expression changes serenly to one of peace and in the shaft of light that she stands in it as if she is dissolved into foam. Cries of delight resound from below fading peacefully to a quiet murmur and then silence.The great thick trunk of the central Waleska tree and its ring of megalithic stones stands alone. A few coils of sulphurous mist trace trails above the surrounding pools. Luxuriant growths of elderwood moss entwine the wide trunk of the tree. A casual glance indicates there should be much more elderwood moss than required by Unn.
Hrafn blows a surprised breath out through his beard, then turns to Dorvarr and Vlad with a grin, "That went better than I thought it would!"
Vlad lets out his breath, expecting to be breathing water the short rest of his life.
"Aye, Hrafn, those were words boldly spoken and wise. Now, we should find this elderwood moss and begone as soon as we can- the dvergar hall at the base of Droskar Mountain grows no older, but the victims of the plague suffer even now."
Vlad lets out his breath, expecting to be breathing water the short rest of his life.
"Aye, Hrafn, those were words boldly spoken and wise. Now, we should find this elderwood moss and begone as soon as we can- the dvergar hall at the base of Droskar Mountain grows no older, but the victims of the plague suffer even now."
"True and wise words. We must gather the components for the cure. Let's get moving."
Vlad lets out his breath, expecting to be breathing water the short rest of his life.
"Aye, Hrafn, those were words boldly spoken and wise. Now, we should find this elderwood moss and begone as soon as we can- the dvergar hall at the base of Droskar Mountain grows no older, but the victims of the plague suffer even now.""True and wise words. We must gather the components for the cure. Let's get moving."
Ragnarr's clenched teeth relax with the departure of the sinister witches. He grunts in assent to his comrade's words.
Your band after some time collects a plentiful supply of the elderwood moss and restored by the rejuvenating if acrid waters of the pool is glad to depart the gloomy environs of the Temple Grove. The last leg of your journey beckons as the dark and jagged rocks of Droskarfell wait amongst the clouds above.
Survival DC 10
Ragnarr's clenched teeth relax with the departure of the sinister witches. He grunts in assent to his comrade's words.
"Come friends, this way." Hrafn hoists his pack and starts in the direction of a distantly-seen river-bed.
Vlad is willing to follow Hrafn, his usually-good woods-sense having let him down this time.
"Aye, the riverbed seems like a good choice. Lead on, lad."
The darkness of the dense forests of the Vale recede as you emerge on the far side of the wood at the foot of Droskarfell. A barren expanse of scree slopes and black jagged rock stretches up dotted by dwarfish shrubs and the occasional scraggly spruce.
The cold wind bites and a slight flurry of snow blows on the breeze down from the cloud shrouded mountain.
Reaching the riverbed it is a small trickle that now remains. Pools of water show a slight skin of ice and frost atop. The way is daunting but this would seem to provide the best approach up.
The day wears on as you trudge up the ravine that gouges down the slope of the peak. As mid-afternoon wears on you estimate that you are three quarters of the way. However the cloud cover remains thick and despite constant scanning you have so far seen no signs of the ruins.
Clambering up a slight bend in the riverbed you stop in your tracks. A crude cairn has been erected here. Mounted atop the pile of rocks is a grisly sight. An eviscerated goblin lashed to a crucifix of old dead wood rests at a hideous angle. From the dessication of the corpse it would appear the goblin has been here for a few weeks.
It would appear that the unfortunate goblin did not die quickly. Slashes and other mutiliations show the tell tale sign of a prolonged and bloody torture before being left exposed to the elements.
A quick glance around indicates no other signs of activity.
It would appear that the unfortunate goblin did not die quickly. Slashes and other mutiliations show the tell tale sign of a prolonged and bloody torture before being left exposed to the elements.
A quick glance around indicates no other signs of activity.
Hrafn grunts, "Someone doesn't like greenskins," then he turns his head to the left and spits, a deliberate turning aside of bad luck.
"Ugly death."
Vlad spits as well. "No creature deserves death like this... it draws bad luck and curses."
The winds on the mountainside pick up with a quick series of gusts. The hanging clouds part to reveal the upper regions of the southeastern slope.
Sitting squat at the foot of an imposing arm of the Wyrmice glacier, a ruined monastery comes into view. Made of simple stone blocks worn with the passage of time, the stout building is in a dilpadated state. Sections of the slanted shale roof have collapsed and portions of the outer wall have crumbled. Weeds and wild thorn shrubs sprout out from the loose field of scree rocks leading up to the place, leaving only a slight indication of a worn path that ends at the ruined front gate. Beyond an overgrown yard sits in shadows.
"Shall we?"
Hrafn looks left and right at his companions.
"Or would dawn make for a better approach?"
Vlad's face hardens, and his chin lifts. He loosens his sword in its sheath, checks his equipment quickly, and then speaks. "Let's be done with this." He begins to approach the ruined building, eager to find the last ingredient for the cure.
"Aye, into the ruins. The people dying cannae wait for mornin'. Let's get in and out as fast as possible."
The stout man readies his shield and hammer.
As you near the broken gate you only hear the calls of the many crows that roost about the dilapadated walls.
Stepping over the splintered and rotting remnants of the gate doors you arrive in the monastery's yard.
Tall grasses and chunks of stone debris have all but overtaken this small yard. A thin layer of encrusting snow covers the area. Off to one side, a wooden stable has collapsed into a mound of rotting timbers and mouldy straw. Amidst the collapsed heap of the stable and slightly buried by the snowfall lie two more goblins. One corpse has been viciously hacked perhaps by the blows of an axe. The other mysteriously shows no signs of great wounds but the rigid contortions and expression of agony frozen on the goblin's face evidence a painful death. A handful of baying crows peck at the grisly remnants.
The outer wall on the east side has also collapsed, leaving a ragged hole. Three doors exit into this yard -a pair of double doors to the east, a single door to the north, and a lone door leading into the squat tower situated in the southeast corner.
The outer wall on the east side has also collapsed, leaving a ragged hole. Three doors exit into this yard -a pair of double doors to the east, a single door to the north, and a lone door leading into the squat tower situated in the southeast corner.
Hrafn looks from door to door, his expression becoming more and more grim as it becomes clear that he will be forced to leave the open sky and venture in this ill-omened place.
He mutters under his breath, barely audible, "...has to be done, no good turning back now..."
Vlad considers, then points his sword-blade at the door leading to the squat tower.
"Perhaps this one first? I'll lead the way." He unlimbers his shield and straps it on to his left arm, trying to ready himself for the adrenaline of a sudden attack.