GM Michael's Reign of Winter

Game Master Dread

"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"

I chose these for a reason. If you want another give me a good reason they might come to Heldrin to help.

I'm looking for creative backgrounds to meld the party...note that doesn't mean I'll choose some really unusual character over a tried and true normal character. It only means I'm looking for a melded group.

4. Classes: all. I may even allow 3pp if I can see the source material and think it'll fit. We will be using the unchained versions of Rogue, Barbarian, Summoner, and Monk.

5.no evil. Don't ask.

6.max hp for the 1st 3 levels. Roll after reroll 1's

7. Max starting gold.

8. We will be using hero points and every character starts with 2.

9. 3 traits. 1 must be from players guide ...a campaign trait.

Knowledges
Religion (1) +4
Geography (0)
Local (0)

Languages Common, Dwarf, +1
SQ Aura (Chaos, Good), Slow and Steady: Dwarves have a base speed of 20 feet, but their speed is never modified by armor or encumbrance.
Treasure sense Scent vs precious metals
Gear Cleric’s Kit (16), Scale mail (50), Heavy Wooden shield (7), Warhammer (12), Sling (0), 10 bullets (0.1), 5pp, 4gp, 9sp
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Special Abilities
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Channel Positive Energy (Su): DC 10, 1d6, 3/day
Strength Surge (Sp): 1/day, As a standard action, you can touch a creature to give it great strength. For 1 round, the target gains an enhancement bonus equal to 1/2 your cleric level (minimum +1) to melee attacks, combat maneuver checks that rely on Strength, Strength-based skills, and Strength checks. You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Agile Feet (Su): 6/day, As a free action, you can gain increased mobility for 1 round. For the next round, you ignore all difficult terrain and do not take any penalties for moving through it. You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.

APPEARANCE and WRITING SAMPLE
A dwarf wearing the tan and silver vestments of Cayden Cailean sits at the bar. She wears a warhammer at her hip and strokes her braided beard thoughtfully. Long locks of dark golden hair drape off of her head and nearly touch the floor. When a nearby roustabout petitions her with a drunken drawl she simply offers while raising her own mug, ”May you find wisdom in the bottom of a cup.” She cringes slightly when the man spills his drink on her, not because of the stain, which is easily fixed with a minor miracle, but because of the wasted drink. Finally her wait ends when Shalelu makes her way to the bar, Mike smiles at her friend genuinely, it has been too long.

Character Goals
Affected by a powerful wanderlust Mike wants to travel to distant lands
Not immune to the greed that curses most dwarves she wants to collect a number of precious gems and fine art worked from stone and metal.

Further Background
Mike is the granddaughter of master brewer, then Dentonet Dorndam, who frequently sold ale to a cabal of Caydenites. While this business of selling dwarven ale to humans was frowned upon it wasn’t until Dentonet sold a copy of the family recipe that she and her entire clan were exiled for treason. The family were stripped of their lands and wealth and forced to live in the wilderness. Mike was just a child.

Growing up Mike learned how to hunt and survive in the wilderness, she was also taught the secret of her family brew. But without the sophisticated equipment necessary she has yet to brew a true Dorndam ale. She often wondered what lay over the mountains and would frequently wander away, sometimes for weeks at a time, much to her worrisome father’s dismay.

On one of her walkabouts she came across a human settlement and proceeded to drink the local tavern dry. She blacked out and the next day found herself in the vestments of Cayden Cailean. She found that she was able to perform a number of miracles. After returning home she informed her parents, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, and her brother that she was leaving the clan for good and to spread the word of the Lucky Drunk. They didn’t take it well but also could do nothing to convince her to stay.

In Mike’s travels she encountered the elf Shalelu and they bonded when they faced off against a group of goblins together. They found they had a lot in common, both knowledgeable of the wilderness. But Mike grudgingly admits Shalelu taught Mike more of the wilds than the other way around.

The character is a tiefling paladin of Sarenrae, with the Soul Sentinel archetype. He was born in the woods near Heldren: the Border Wood between Taldor and Qadira, a land of evil fey, ghosts and horrors beyond imagination. His parents were merchants traveling from Qadira, ambushed in the road to Demgazi. While the small caravan survived the attack, they were all taken by a mysterious evergrowing madness. The few survivors ended up locked in different asylums across Taldan and Qadira, including him and his mother. She managed to hold to her sanity as far as she could - enough to nurse the baby infant - but then finally lost herself. The child was separated from the mother as her night screams wouldn't let him sleep (the deprivation was killing him), and he never saw her again. Yet, he started to show signs of insanity while still young, and was raised in a monastery dedicated to worship Sarenrae. His insanity escalated as the years passed, alternating with moments of normality, until he reached a similar state as his mother. The clerics and priests prayed and prayed, and finally the goddess intervened: the child stopped screaming, in the middle of the night, and from that moment on wasn't afflicted again. Instead, he grew stronger, absolutely compelled by his faith, and started traveling the lands, asylum to asylum, monastery to monastery, to help treat other people afflicted by the horrors of the woods. He became a Paladin of Sarenrae, a Soul Sentinel for the sick and suffering ones.

In truth, he still has the nightmares - however, he found comfort in the warmth of the Sun, the rays of light, and in such comfort he became strong to fight as he sleeps. Other words, he is still very much insane to some degree, but became conscious of this fact and by the goddess blessing became able to surpass it by creating a "reality bubble" of his own. He constantly feels the presence of doves, the sacred animals of Sarenrae but doesn't disclose it, and by times seems to stare at nothing and smile. Even in the coldest days and nights, he feels the warmth of the Sun on his skin, and thrives on his own fragile hold to sanity. His faith in Sarenrae is profound, and his code is that of Redemption and Healing; helping the people in need in a practical way. As other Sarenites, his biggest interest is the greater good, and he is the beacon of warm light no matter how cold the road to reach the ends would be.

With the current happenings in Heldren, it became natural for him to head to the city and offer the "heart of the Dawnflower".

As a side note: his father had the outsider blood running in his veins, although thin enough not to be even known by him. His birth, by other hands, was somewhat impacted by the fey of the wood, and that might have been the only reason his mother was able to still keep her sanity for the months she nursed him.

Init +7; Perception +4
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Defense
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AC 13 Touch 12 Flat-footed 11
HP 11/11
Fort +1 Ref +2 Will +2
Favored Class Sorcerer (+1 HP)
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee Cestus +3 (1d4+3/19-20)
Shortspear +3 (1d6+3/x2)
Ranged Shortspear +2 (1d6+3/x2)
Special Martial Flexibility (4/4)

Spells CL 1; Concentration +3
0th - Dancing Lights, Detect Magic, Prestidigitation, Spark
(4/4) 1st - Burning Hands, Shield
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Statistics
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Str 16, Dex 14, Con 13, Int 12, Wis 10, Cha 14
Base Atk +0; CMB +3; CMD 15
Feats Toughness, Improved Initiative, Eschew Materials
Traits Adaptive Magic, Trustworthy, Arcane Temper
Skills 4/level, 4 total
(1) Bluff +7
(1) Diplomacy +7
(1) Intimidate +6
(1) Perception +4
Background Skills
(1) Appraise +5
(1) Craft (Weapons) +5
Languages Common, Draconic
SQ Martial Flexibility (4/day), Bloodline (Draconic, Red), Eschew Materials

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Equipment
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As Ford grew older, his arcane affinity grew... as did his forceful personality. He was regularly the leader of the kids in his neighborhood, sometimes getting into trouble, sometimes leading the charge against bullies. Ford had an insatiable lust for adventure (and by the time he was a teen, a lust for the ladies as well), but he also had a knack for blacksmithing like his father. If anything, he was a prodigy at it, and he developed a love of fine craftsmanship for metal items. Weapons in particular struck his fancy, and his room is a treasure trove of pieces he is particularly proud of or simply acquired in his time with his dad. He joined the town guard, hoping that a bit of duty would bring him some excitement to fill his palate, but in a small southern town like Heldren, adventure was a bit hard to come by. Maybe a good boar hunt or chasing some thieves now and again, but nothing to whet his whistle.

However, the sudden drop in temperature and the reports of snows at the height of a Taldan summer is an intriguing situation... but also a worrying one. As much as Ford is spoiling for a good mysterious adventure, the bizarre weather is hitting a touch too close to home. Ford likes danger, but not when it threatens his family and village. Even worse was the news that something had attacked a passing noble and her bodyguard was dragged in looking awful. Something is wrong in the woods near Heldren, and Ford has volunteered to lead in the investigation into the danger. While it may worry his parents, Ford knows that as a town guard and resident, it's his job to investigate.

And besides, who better to answer unseasonable cold weather than someone who has fiery magic coursing through his blood?

Rumors reached me through gossiping mercenaries at a trader's store of strange happenings down South in Taldor, near of the Border Wood region. Odd, disturbing stories of wintry conditions when the weather should be warm and the grasslands lush and vibrant. Of animals acting out of sorts and attacking far from where they should be found this time of year. And of worse things hunting in the darkness...

When I brought these tales to the Druid Council circle in the Verduran Forest, I was dismissed as a young alarmist, as none of the more senior druids there had heard these same rumors. In fact, it was only after several days of stubbornly arguing with my mentor Talnon that I was able to convince him to let me head off at all to investigate the matter, and even then, outside of any official capacity.

And so off I venture, seeking the truth of these matters and to quell the ominous sense of dread I have felt since I first heard about them. It would be nice to be wrong...but I fear that I am not.

"I was born in Heldrin. My mom raised me here after arriving, heavily pregnant and alone, from up North. Don't know much about my father, mom doesn't like to talk about it. Although, I do have some ideas..." she says, pointing at her pale white skin and sharply pointed ears with a friendly grin.

Tara looks at the council thoughtfully after they explained what had happened. It was her, a few other hunters and some other local notables, as well as the injured man that had arrived into town earlier. She now knew that he was a mercenary. She looked more closely at the man, noticing the extent of his wounds, even cleaned up as they were.

Something dangerous had attacked him, that was for sure.

She looked back to the council and nodded, her decision made. "I'll go. I can investigate the attack site and see if I can find a trail into the forest. I'm pretty familiar with it, as you know, and Sylv will also be helpful, which you probably also know" she finishes with a grin. The big cat lying on its side near the fire let out a big groan as its name was mentioned, raising its head briefly to look at Tara, before lying it back down again when nothing else was said.

"Besides, that strange unseasonal cold in the Border Wood didn't seem to affect me as badly as some of the others" she says, nodding towards the other hunters beside her.

He gets up and takes a bow, showing his willingness to perform. Seeing that the farmer who was talking to him was completely confused by why he got up, he decided that in such a small town, actors weren't that common. "Come see perform in the inn tonight and you'll see why I'm here, but also wonder why I haven't been around longer!" He bounces his eyebrows up and down suggesting his evening's performance will be long remembered.

Jujo notices the sad and scared look of the folk and decides to tell a story of how a small boy from a village managed to bring out the sun on his own during a storm. At the end, he said "I'll investigate this matter and make sure you are safe!" After all, who is going to enjoy his acting if they are all worried about the woods?

My father did not hear the whispers. Oh, he respected the power of the Harrow, as every good Varisian man should. (Particularly when one’s own mother is the fortune-teller.) But the cards never spoke to him. Nor did they speak to my mother, a stern-faced woman with a will of steel. Only my grandmother truly understood, and did her best to help me interpret the whispers. To see them as a gift, rather than a curse.

(”What’s this one, Nana?”

“The Mountain Man. A force you cannot control, cannot stop. Be careful, child. When giants walk through the world, those of us who are smaller must move out of the way...or be crushed.”)

I remember the cards warning me of my mother’s death. But, as is common with such a delicate form of divination, they did not do so clearly enough for me to properly interpret the signs. Or perhaps I am reading too much into a childhood memory, and they never spoke to me on the matter at all. I do not know. That is one of many mysteries the cards have never answered.

(”Ooh, I know this one! It’s the Big Sky. Right?”

“Right you are, my darling. A time of momentous change. A symbol of casting off old shackles and being reborn into a new way of life.”)

My father was never the same after that. He tried, do not get me wrong, but my mother’s death broke something in him. There is something in us Varisians that craves the horizon, the clear night sky that city folk can never properly see. After she died that part of him was lost. He began to dream of settling down, making steadfast friends, having a home that did not move. No one was surprised when he announced his decision to leave the caravan. Why Heldren? I doubt even he knows. Perhaps it was simply the closest town at the time he decided he could take no more. At the venerable age of ten I was allowed to make my choice. To stay with him, or to leave with my grandmother. I love my father. But he never heard the whispers. He could not explain to me what they meant. So I gave him a hug goodbye and set out again for the open road.

(”That man looks funny!”

“Perhaps, but you should not laugh. The Hidden Truth is a good omen when properly aligned. However, see how he points at the book? You will never find your truth unless you seek it.”)

I missed my parents. Of course I did. My mother, taken from me too young by an accident. My father, lost to me amid the hustle and bustle of village life. (As well as, eventually, a new wife. A new family.) Nevertheless I was happy, for my grandmother also heard the whispers. She understood them. She taught me how to look inside myself for the answers the Harrow offered. When I was wrong, (and I often was), it was not the fault of the cards. They did their best. It was simply that my fragile human mind could not always understand them properly. But as I grew, I learned how to open myself to the Truths they represented.

(”I don’t like this card Nana…”

“Understandably. The Empty Throne is not a card to be liked. A card of loss and grief, that one. But there is hope nonetheless. See how the ghost reaches for him? Those who leave us are never truly gone, not as long as we still remember them. We must honor their memories. If we reach out to them, they can reach us in return.”)

My grandmother’s death was even harder on me than my mother’s had been. No freak accident, this. No sudden snatching. Only months and months of slowly declining health. Pneumonia, the caravan’s doctor said. Something a younger woman might have overcome, but deadly for the old. My grandmother’s coughing increased in frequency and severity with every passing day, until she could do little more than lay on her cot and gasp for breath. One day she reached out with what seemed to be a herculean effort and gently tapped my chest. ”Trust the cards,” she said, “but trust this more.” The next day she was gone.

(”Ugh, is she eating that eye?!”

“That would be wasteful, and the Mute Hag is never wasteful. She holds her secrets close to her chest, or to her mouth in this case, but she does not destroy them. That does not mean she is to be trusted, particularly when properly aligned. Her secrets are treacherous. They can destroy the unwary. Be very careful child, when the Hag comes calling.”)

I returned to Heldren after my grandmother’s death. My father deserved to know, of course, and selfishly I also wished to cling to the only family I had left. He welcomed me into his new home. My stepmother was kind. I had heard stories of wicked stepmothers, those who hated the reminders that their husband had once had a life before them, but she was not one of those. She felt for my sorrow and wished to ease it in whatever manner she could. She may not have been my mother, but she loved me as if I were her daughter in truth. My little half-brother welcomed me also. He adored having a big sister to show him around, and I adored him in turn.

(”What’s this one, Nana?”

“The Juggler, child. See how it fits into the spread? A card of destiny, this one. Perhaps even yours.”)

I have lived in Heldren for nigh on a year, now. Helping my stepmother around the house, performing readings in the local inn for a few coppers. But I grow restless. The cards were quiet for a long time, but they have begun to whisper to me again. I was not surprised, when the snow began to fall in summer. When the bodyguard appeared, speaking of strange creatures dragging his charge into the wood. The cards tell me that it is time. That the hidden truths I seek are there to be found, if only I reach out my hand and grasp them. I do not know this Lady Malassene, but I believe finding her may be the first step in discovering what secrets lie within the Border Wood.

”Is it time to leave?”

”Soon, child. Soon.”

Titia doesn’t pause as she continues scrubbing the floor. ”What is it now, Adrian?”

“That damned mercenary, is what it is. Sure, he couldn’t save the woman he was being paid to protect, but surely a bunch of untrained locals can do the job!” He spits, and Titia glares in response to the affront on her nearly-clean floor. ”The Border Wood is bad news right now. Any hunter knows that, and most are staying far away. But talk of rescuing a Lady probably already dead and suddenly half the town thinks they’re trained fighters! Fools, the whole damned lot of them.”

In the corner, Ylena looks up from where she’d been entertaining her brother. Victor might not hear the whispers, but he thought the pretty pictures on the cards were fascinating. ”They’re forming a search party?”

”A death party is more like it.” He looks as if he wishes to spit again, but he doesn’t want to risk Titia’s wrath. Instead he clears his throat. ”If what the man said was true, going into the Wood is practically suicide. If it’s not, and the Lady just got dragged off by some wolves or something, then she’s already dead. No point in risking lives just to retrieve a corpse.”

Ylena hums thoughtfully as she pulls another card for Victor, only to stop and stare at it. The Survivor. Of course, there are only 54 cards in the deck, and she had not been intentionally performing a reading. Nevertheless, it seems auspicious.

”Hey Victor, would you like to see me perform a full reading?”

Adrian looks up suspiciously, already having an idea of where this is going. ”No no no, don’t tell me you’re-”

”I just want to see what the cards say.” Ylena smiles beatifically as she starts shuffling. ”Not a bad idea, when times are this strange. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Adrian might have left the caravan years ago, but he’s still a Varisian man. He is not going to deny the power of the Harrow. He gives Ylena a strong look of disapproval, but doesn’t try to stop her.

The choosing is the most important part of the reading, in many ways. Fortunately Ylena has a much simpler question than normal. Is Lady Malassene still alive?

Shields for the choosing. She pulls out the Mountain Man and grimaces. Not, perhaps, the best omen. It was the card she most clearly remembered seeing before her mother’s death.

But the choosing isn’t the reading. It says something about her, and the card must be interpreted if it appears, but it does not answer the question.

Nine cards are carefully dealt and flipped over. She dismisses most of them out of hand. Unaligned, (not misaligned, which is a completely separate matter), or partial matches that simply don’t speak to her. But when she listens carefully, four of them are whispering.

Past. The Inquisitor, truly matched. In this spread she sees it as a warning. Not a malicious card, but not a beneficial one either. The Inquisitor is concerned only with the truth. With aligning one’s self to see what is, not what one wishes would be. A reminder to not lose oneself in fantasies and daydreams, something Ylena is uncomfortably aware she has a tendency to do.

Present. No ambiguity here. Once again the Survivor stares back at her. Given the circumstances of her question and the true alignment of the card, the answer is clear. Lady Malassene is indeed still alive. Battered and bruised perhaps, but not broken. This card is in the present column however, not the future. While she most certainly lives now, that may not last.

Future. Two cards speak to her here, both misaligned. In the Tangled Briar’s case that is a blessing. It speaks of pain, yes, but misaligned means the focus is more on the treasure hidden within. She just has to be brave enough to risk the thorns. The Hidden Truth however...she has rarely seen this card misaligned. Misaligned implies that the truth she seeks is being actively hidden from her by an outside force. That someone, or something, is working against her.

She points out the meaning of the cards to Victor, who is too young still to truly understand. Her father is not.

”Ylena.” His face is pale. ”Please tell me you don’t plan on going. Even if Lady Malassene lives…that is not your responsibility.” He points towards the Hidden Truth. ”If something is working against you, is that not all the more reason not to go? There are others-”

“The cards do not whisper to the others.” Ylena is calm as she reshuffles the deck. ”Father. You knew my mother, and my grandmother. You know me. The cards have spoken. Would you see me ignore their call?”

Adrian is silent for a long moment. Meanwhile Titia ceases her scrubbing long enough to come over to Ylena and hug her. ”I would not see you come to harm, daughter of my heart. But if you feel you must go, know that you do so with my support. And love.”

Ylena blinks away tears. ”Thank you. Know that I love you too. However far I travel, I will come back to you. To you all. I swear it.”

Adrian comes over to join in the hug. (As does Victor, young as he is. He senses that something of import is happening.) ”Be safe, Ylena. I am counting on you to keep your promise.” He points to the Juggler, a card unmatched and subsequently uninterpreted in the spread. ”This may well be your destiny, but do not forgot. Sometimes the fates are unkind. They play with us mortals and are as likely to drop us as to send us high into the air. Be careful, my daughter.” For a moment he sounds almost exactly like Tsurana, and Ylena can practically hear her voice in the wind.

Be careful, child. When giants walk through the world, those of us who are smaller must move out of the way...or be crushed.”