“If you stop by the general store, I remember seeing a few outfits left over from a harsh winter from a few years ago. If you speak to Vivialla and tell her I sent you the council can cover the cost of those outfits.” (They have 5 cold-weather outfits in stock in the general store. Be sure to take note of the bonus you’d receive from the outfit.)
With that in mind, after folks leave the town hall, Krokod goes to Vivialla first, "Goodwoman Steranus. I heard from the council that you have some clothing meant for truly cold weather. We'll need enough for myself and ..." He does the count in his head Me, Mia, Krem, Kessir, Linge, and Golden Arrow... "Well," He sees what's left on the shelves "Heck, I think we'll need what is left of them. The Council will cover the costs."
It occurs to him he might be able to get a few more freebies on the council's tab and get away with it, but that's not his style. Besides, at least one of his friends would get their hackles up about stealing. And... rightly so Old habits. Old habits of taking what I want and rationalizing it so I can 'get away'. I'm not a thirteen year old boy anymore. Grow up, Krokod. Still, he does make a few other purchases while he's there.
Assuming he has time, he then moves to the Stoat, to kind of apologize to the Garimoses. And to let them know he was not going to be able to cook today anyway "Kale? Sorry I got riled with a customer. Not to leave you and Menander in a lurch, but I and a few others are on a mission for the council. So won't be able to help today. " he grabs a hot roll "Thanks." And races off.
It's then his eyes fall in the direction of Old Mother Theodora's house. She's always made him nervous. Is fear of crones a thing? but he's always treated her with respect too. For a moment he's tempted to head that way. Then he remembers I could just got get Kriemhild to come with me later and if need be I'll hide behind her!
That being a plan, he heads towards the Apothecary instead!
"Sorry if I'm late was wondering if we should see Old Mother Theodora, and ... I don't know, she might have some ideas." He says feeling a bit sheepish, and he looks as Mia shows up about the same time he did, also talking of being late. "Nice supplies." Then "Oh I got outfits for the cold for those that don't have any."
I am wearing one! That and my innate hotness! The half orc chuckles
But we should have as many spares as possible, its a good idea to have spares in case you fall into a river or something, if you want me to carry it sure!
Linge is a bit relieved that Natharen offers to talk to Tessaraea in her stead. She gladly leaves the responsibility to him.
She is used to spending whole days in the wilderness and her backpack is already pretty much done, with equipment adapted for the unnatural cold that has befallen Heldren and its surroundings. There's just one thing. It's incredibly heavy.
Reluctant as she is to trust Golden Arrow with anything yet, she appears to be the one only who owns a means of transportation - and two beasts. She approaches the elf. "If you're coming with us, will you bring your mules with you?" she asks, repressing the urge to defend Horn again. The hunter had probably got the message by now. "They might help us to carry equipment, unless you have other tasks for them in mind."
Natharen smiles in agreement; “Then I will head straight to the Apothecary and see about waking our guest.” thinking for a moment; “I will wait for your arrival to begin asking him questions. There is no need to pepper him questions.” As he begins to head west, he pauses for a moment and listens and continues on his way.
You might have missed it with everything currently on your mind, but there is an eerie silence. There are all the normal sights and sounds of the villagers going about their day past midday, but then it dawns on you. There aren’t any birds chirping or squirrels running from tree to tree or building to building.
Those who head to the Stoat first see a crowd that is starting to thin, but still plenty there. “Come on in!” comes a shout from the doorway into the kitchen. The man you know as Menander Garimos walks to the bar top with two bowls of his famous hearty stew and places them in front of two farmers; “Grab a seat and Kale will be right with you.” He slips back into his kitchen. The towns folk of Heldren know that the Silver Stoat’s kitchen is his.
Though ingrained in the community, Menander is a transplant. He came through Heldren as a young man and stopping off at the Silver Stoat for a meal. The Stoat was then owned by Andrus Sibylla, Kale’s father. Menander took a liking to Heldren and Andrus, who could have truly been his older brother. Andrus trusted him and offered him a job at the Stoat.
A young, still in her youth, Kale worked the floor. With her bubbly personality and budding beauty, she was perfect to work with the people of Heldren. Kale quickly took to Menander and a childhood crush formed.
Years later when Andrus took ill from an infection, he signed the Stoat over to Kale. When he passed it was hard on both Menander and Kale. Menander, and the now young woman, Kale found comfort in one another’s company. Through this time together that childhood crush Kale had on Menander returned, and for the first time Menander looked to Kale as she was. A beautiful woman.
The two married and are yet to have children.
Kale makes her way over to those who sit; “We have stew and humble pie left, both come with an ale” Nodding to an obvious drunk in the corner; “Or you can be like Dansby and have a few Three Devil Ale that I just brewed up. What will it be?” Once coin changes hands, she quickly leaves and returns with food and drink per order
Just cross the way from the Village Hall is Vivialla Steranus’ General Store. This sizable building his home to almost anything a villager would need, and most of what a traveler would need passing through.
With a little ring, the door knocks against a hanging bell above the door. Vivialla Steranus looks up from a book she was writing in. Vivialla is known for keeping tight records and knowing exactly what has come in and out of her general store, and exactly where she placed an item. When asked about the Cold-Weather Outfits and that the council would be reimbursing her for the cost of the items, she tightens her lips and moves to retrieve the items.
Rolling a ladder around to a high shelf, she begins to pull down three large wicker baskets; “Ionnia will be receiving a bill of sale for each of these items. If she doesn’t pay the full price, I will be looking to you for what’s owed.” Pulling free from the baskets are 5 Cold-Weather outfits. Each one contains a wool coat, linen shirt, wool cap, and a heavy cloak. Three have thick pants, the other two have thick skirts; “That’s 40 gold there.” and she promptly begins making notes in her book.
“Is there anything else you need?” Vivialla carries most mundane adventuring gear, but not much weapons and armor. There are rumors in the village that she has acquired a couple magic items over the years.
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Hehehe, I can wait to apply moi fists to some bandi Kriemhild speaks but suddenly stops as she, not too gracefully, ducks a bit to avoid the dreaded upper doorframe of the general store.
I shall be packing one as a spare, which of these is largest if I may ask? Oh, would you happen to have anything made of cold Iron? In case of Fey or Demons, if you prepare for them they are less likely to happen!
Linge pauses to listen as she notices Natharen stopping dead in his tracks -then she shakes her head sadly as she suddenly understands what might have ticked him off. He is right: there is something eerie and unnerving about Heldren since this whole terrible winter has started.
------
There is nothing that Linge needs more urgently than a warm meal, and so she heads for the Stoat first with whoever happens to want lunch. It's been a while since she's set foot in the tavern, which tends to be a little too rowdy for her taste. She'd be pleasantly surprised to find it so quiet, if it didn't seem a little strange on the eve of Archerfeast.
"I'll have a humble pie, please," Linge slips three silver coins in Kale's hand. "Can I just get a drink without alcohol?"
She adds, lowering her voice, "Also, do you think you can ask Menander to make a big pie for Horn? He'll have to be traveling with me, and I need to bring him something to eat first. I'll pay extra." She takes out five additional silvers out of her pouch.
Krokod is not the most wild wise of the citizens here but at the realization that birds and other wild life have quieted and been quiet for a time, he freezes This is ... not good. Not good at all. I thought it was maybe me being paranoid, but this smells too much like bad magic in the air. I thought I got the stink of THAT out of my nostrils years ago.
***
Rolling a ladder around to a high shelf, she begins to pull down three large wicker baskets; “Ionnia will be receiving a bill of sale for each of these items. If she doesn’t pay the full price, I will be looking to you for what’s owed.” Pulling free from the baskets are 5 Cold-Weather outfits. Each one contains a wool coat, linen shirt, wool cap, and a heavy cloak. Three have thick pants, the other two have thick skirts; “That’s 40 gold there.” and she promptly begins making notes in her book.
"I'm pretty sure her word is good... " Krokod says "But it 's on her bill so if she doesn't pay for some reason, please, take it up with her." Exactly why HE would be in debt if someone else stiffs the bill doesn't sit right with him . Still, best to be polite about it "And thank you."
“Is there anything else you need?” Feel free to purchase anything that you might need for this journey. Vivialla carries most mundane adventuring gear, but not much weapons and armor. There are rumors in the village that she has acquired a couple magic items over the years.
"How are we for tents?" while he asks. He casts detect magic on the store curious if the rumors are true.
And just like that a motley crew had formed with the intent of defending Heldren. Or, at the very least, understanding what was going on in the Border Wood. It felt good to be doing something for the town. And, judging by how quickly everyone jumped into action, the rest of the group felt the same.
Kessir chewed on the inside of his bottom lip a moment before addressing Golden Arrow outside of Town Hall. He speaks slowly, carefully, as if trying to imitate a more practiced speaker.
“I’m not sure if you would be interested, given you only just arrived in Heldren, but you seem to be capable of handling yourself. May I officially ask for your help in this matter?” Kessir gestured back at the Town Hall. “I know that the elders may have implied the request but that is not the same. I’m worried that once we hear what this man has to say, we may find ourselves in need of as much help as possible. If you’re interested, I’d gladly buy you something to eat though we may need to eat hastily.” He smiled and the persona softened some. "And if you say no, I'll just buy you an ale."
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Oi, can I have 3 humble pies for myself? Moi Bloodraging ish quite uhmmm mettarboilically intensive! Kriemhild winks at Linge as she buys some extra food for horn, who is by the way a good boy!
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"I can't carry that many pies," Linge protests in a hurried whisper when she understands what Kriemhild's conspirational wink means. "And he can hunt - a little." Not with much success yet, she adds silently.
It had taken an eternity to train him to defend himself against other predators, and even longer to get him to recognize some wood animals as preys and attack them to feed. He still had a tendency to get overexcited too fast. He'd pounce way before getting close enough to get a chance - not to mention he had become a bit too used to human food. The first time he had caught a rabbit, he hadn't even known what to do with it beyond bringing it to Linge and ask for a honey biscuit. At least the revelation that wild rabbits were for eating had come as a pleasant surprise.
"Don't you find the Stoat a bit too empty?" Linge changes subject.
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Not a problem Linge! Kriemhild whisper back as she happily omnomnoms one of the pies in less then 30 seconds.
You think you can carry 2? Its ok if you can only carry one as well! The self appointed mercenary continues while casting a semi hungry look at one of the 2 remaining pies.
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"Two would be fine," Linge sighs. "Thank you," she says rather reluctantly.
She looks down on her own meal, trying to avoid catching a glimpse of whatever is happening across the table. The noises were enough to know that this was going to be a long meal.
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“Sure thing!” Kale replies to Linge and places a silver back on the table; “Water or tea is all we have.” When asked about a pie for Horn; “We have a few pies, but if you think Horn will eat them we also have the scraps from today’s kills… they will go to the pigs, but there are always more scraps tomorrow.”
With Linge/Kriemhild’s order Kale quickly returns with the food and drink that was ordered; “What’s it like out there? Word from the farms is that it’s getting rough. People stealing crops, the frost killing the rest?” She says as she rest her serving tray on her hip as she leans against the table with the other two girls.
As Kriemhild ducks through the door, Vivialla smiles; “Cold Iron for Fey or Demons? If you’re looking for weapons you’ll need to go see Isker or Xanthippe over at the smith. They are going to have weapons for those kind of things.”
At that Krokod draws her attention when he ask about tents; “Tents? We have…” she stops as Krokod begins speaking an incantation and specifically moving his hands in a way that allows him to Detect Magic. Vivialla gives a start; “What are you doing?” and with that it causes his attention to fade, though he did see a faint magical aura coming from a tiny silver cube, and a simple ring that is a band of iron. “Are you wanting tents or not? I have a few small and medium sized tents, but I have one larger tent that Kriemhild might find more comfortable.”
She gives a questioning look at those in her shop.
Map of Heldren
As Kriemhild ducks through the door, Vivialla smiles; “Cold Iron for Fey or Demons? If you’re looking for weapons you’ll need to go see Isker or Xanthippe over at the smith. They are going to have weapons for those kind of things.”At that Krokod draws her attention when he ask about tents; “Tents? We have…” she stops as Krokod begins speaking an incantation and specifically moving his hands in a way that allows him to Detect Magic. Vivialla gives a start; “What are you doing?” and with that it causes his attention to fade, though he did see a faint magical aura coming from a tiny silver cube, and a simple ring that is a band of iron. “Are you wanting tents or not? I have a few small and medium sized tents, but I have one larger tent that Kriemhild might find more comfortable.”
She gives a questioning look...
"nothing amazing, I assure you." And it's true, sensing magic is so..rudimentary. He doesn't see it as a glow so much as he feels it as a kind of faux heat from objects "I think the large tent is beyond my personal purchase range unless you're allowing us to put it on the tab?" Then he does ask "What are the cube and that iron ring there? I sense a magic in them."
"Tea would be fine," Linge thanks Kale with a smile. "A few scraps would also do, of course... Just keep enough for the pigs -they need to be well-fed too."
“What’s it like out there? Word from the farms is that it’s getting rough. People stealing crops, the frost killing the rest?”
As much as Linge welcomes the distraction from a potential tête-à-tête with Kriemhild, she prefers to be cautious when answering Kale's questions. Most people in Heldren know that information that end up in the woman's ears tend to be on everybody's lips the next day. "I don't know much about stolen crops," she answers honestly, in her usual soft voice. "Though the hail and the snow must have killed most of the crops this year. Still, I hope, people find ways to cope."
"I was just telling Kriemhild how unusual it was to find the Stoat so quiet at such an hour. Especially on the eve of Archerfeast. Are people uninterested in the festivities?"
[b]Hmm, if you got any rumors to share it would be good, like, when and what got stolen from whom. Information is ammunition an all that![/dice]
Kriemhild tries to get some more info, in a pretty friendly fashion.
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As Krokod points out the two items that he felt had magic in them, the door opens and lets in a blast of cold air as Mia comes in, her cheeks and nose bright from the chill and her haste as she tries gathering everything up. She carries a longsword, a bow, a quiver, and her pack, and the soft susurration of mail as she moves belies the armor and gambeson she now wears under her clothing. Strangely, she also carries a satchel that holds a book on the hip opposite of her sword, dagger, and quiver.
"Y-you sense magic," Mia asks Krokod after she closes the door.
The idea that Krokod can sense magic has her tense, but after a few moments, it becomes clear why as she keeps subtly shifting her position to be out of his line of sight.
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"Y-you sense magic," Mia asks Krokod after she closes the door.
"Not automatically, I have to make an effort, which is why my fingers moved around."
But he remembers the words of another..."He reeks of summer" the old crone said.. reeks was a strong word. I just have a few gifts is all.
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After everyone split off to tend to their own business, Golden Arrow made her way back to the Stoat. She wound up pushing her empty cart back into the barn too, right next to her mules. After a moment, Linge finds her.
Reluctant as she is to trust Golden Arrow with anything yet, she appears to be the one only who owns a means of transportation - and two beasts. She approaches the elf. "If you're coming with us, will you bring your mules with you?" she asks, repressing the urge to defend Horn again. The hunter had probably got the message by now. "They might help us to carry equipment, unless you have other tasks for them in mind."
A slight laugh escapes her lips a moment, shaking her head. "Well, I might have to break the news to them that after their brushing, they're signed up for another trek." Golden Arrow would call over to the mules, saying in a foreign tongue
Next Kessir came up to her,
“I’m not sure if you would be interested, given you only just arrived in Heldren, but you seem to be capable of handling yourself. May I officially ask for your help in this matter?” Kessir gestured back at the Town Hall. “I know that the elders may have implied the request but that is not the same. I’m worried that once we hear what this man has to say, we may find ourselves in need of as much help as possible. If you’re interested, I’d gladly buy you something to eat though we may need to eat hastily.” He smiled and the persona softened some. "And if you say no, I'll just buy you an ale."
"I'm of the mind that my Goddess sent me here to help. So it'll take no hard convincing me for me, sir." Golden Arrow smirks, peering up at the sky once more. The elf would then clap her hands together, rubbing them for warmth. "And I would be a fool to say no to a free meal, shared with a new friend, neh?"
With a frown; “I don’t think it will be happening tomorrow. Not unless they can figure out what is going on with this mercenary that claims his caravan was attacked. Or at least it seems the council is more interested in that right now than a festival…” Kale looks to the half-orc; “I don’t know what was stolen other than this Lady he was protecting. If it’s cold enough to freeze the guards fingers and face I don’t know if she would have made it this long.”
Pulling the small metal cube and iron ring free from the case; “Magic indeed, and the traveler who was passing through who traded them for supplies should have had a friend like you in his party.” Placing the cube on the table showing that all sides are perfectly flat; “This here is what Natharen called an Arrow Magnet. He said that it will attract arrows to it instead of you. Seems handy, but we don’t see any kind of battles that would call for this magical trinket. It is still nice to have just incase.”
Slipping on the iron band; “This here is my most valued possession. Natharen said that it is a Ring of Force Shield.” Vivialla says a word and shield of energy appears before her. “I have yet to meet the traveler who could afford this.” she looks at it on her hand; “But once I do, I am selling my shop and moving to Oppara.”
As Golden Arrow approaches the stables, she once again hears Sophia struggling and the sound of the horses crashing against the stable walls and doors. As Golden Arrow rounds the corner, she sees one of the stall doors bust open, knocking Sophia down, and a horse begin to wildly run and jump about in this rear courtyard. “Don’t let him get out.” she stands quickly and rushes to reign in the freed horse; “All of them have gone wild. Even your mules I had to tie within their stalls.”
"ooo" He looks at the two items with admiration "Yeah, those are.. probably not going to be covered by the council" Wistfully.
Kessir smiled and held the door open for Golden Arrow. “Food is the great equalizer,” he said with a chuckle. He squeezed in with the others and dragged a chair over for Golden Arrow then ordered a pie and an ale for the two of them.
“How much’re we charging regulars today? A couple of copper?” Kessir handed over six silver plus an extra two. Payment for his poor joke.
Kessir waited outside of the apothecary. Now that his belly had been filled he was eager to speak with the unconscious man.
“They all just scattered as soon as the word was given,” Kessir thought. “Not that I was any better but, still, what if we encounter whatever attacked the carriage and everyone scatters again?” He bit down hard on the inside of his bottom lip, drawing blood. “Someone needs to take charge.”
Mia waits patiently for Krokod to finish talking to Vivialla. After he finishes, Mia pays for four days of rations.
"W-would enough tents for six be covered by the council," she asks, obviously nervous.
As the others get close to finishing their meals, Mia comes in, laden with her gear and the newly acquired provisions. She goes up to the bar and asks if she can get a humble pie to eat as she heads to Tessaraea's apothecary. After a moment, she asks if she could a mug of something warm to go with the pie instead of the ale.
Mia is a little surprised to see Kessir waiting outside, though not unpleasantly so.
"Hi, Kessir," she says, her voice edging a little higher than normal as she smiles. "Did you already get everything?"
Since we are all around, well, hands on the table. What do you all intend to be doing if we are in combat? My cunning plan is to place myself between yall and whatever is attacking us, shout insults, and throw things at it while also using ma bardiche. If s*!* gets closer I boink it with ma bardiche, if s#@& gets into knife fighting range with me its clawin time.
Kriemhild says with a smile showing her fangs
I know a bunch of really mean phrases in Abyssal, I mean, I dont know exactly what they mean, but shouting insults in that language is a great way to get hostile attention! Like:
Твой отец был хомяком, а твоя мать пахнет бузиной!
or
Я пукаю в твою сторону! She adds
Your father was a hamster and your mother smells of elderberries!
I fart in your general direction!
No demon would insult like that, although the relative tameness of the swearing could well act as a meta level insult. Your guess is that some actual Abyssal speaker, and not a native one for sure, pranked Kriemhild by telling very unusual insults, likely one of the mercenaries with whom she came to Heldern.
"With a frown; “I don’t think it will be happening tomorrow. Not unless they can figure out what is going on with this mercenary that claims his caravan was attacked. Or at least it seems the council is more interested in that right now than a festival…” Kale looks to the half-orc; “I don’t know what was stolen other than this Lady he was protecting. If it’s cold enough to freeze the guards fingers and face I don’t know if she would have made it this long.”
"We can only hope," Linge answers, a bit awkwardly. Since it's obvious neither she, Kriemhild or Kale know what's going on in Heldren, she can only keep her fingers crossed that the conversation won't devolve into small talk. She's all too happy to let the half-orc carry the discussion on her broad shoulders and ask other questions if she wants to.
The tea and humble pie are tasty, but Linge finds them rather hard to enjoy, preoccupied both by the fate of Lady Argentea, her bodyguard's -but, if she has to be completely honest, she is worried most about how Horn is doing in his hunter shack. She eats her meal as fast as she can, though she's nowhere near as fast as Kriemhild. It looks like they'll leave the Stoat together then. It doesn't really improve Linge's mood.
She pays whatever Kale asks for the pie and the meat scraps destined to Horn, and mutters a thank-you to Kriemhild if she buys an additional pie for the bear cub.
"I have to buy a couple of things from the general store,"Linge tells Kriemhild when they walk out of the inn. "I'll meet you in front of the apothecary if you're not coming."
--------
In front of the Stoat:
Linge spots Kessir, Krokod and Mia from afar counting rations and tents for the party, and thinks of her own provisions at home. She approaches them. "Hi. Um," she says a bit nervously, doing her best not to let her gaze travel from Mia to Kessir too much. The bowyer seemed a little too happy to find herself alone with the hunter. She didn't want to interrupt anything. "I have a small tent. Did you buy bigger ones?"
She had only a couple of things to grab from Vivialla's shop, but the thought she might be able to leave her heavy tent at home was a relief.
"Since we are all around, well, hands on the table. What do you all intend to be doing if we are in combat? My cunning plan is to place myself between yall and whatever is attacking us, shout insults, and throw things at it while also using ma bardiche. If s%@# gets closer I boink it with ma bardiche, if s&@* gets into knife fighting range with me its clawin time."
Linge stares at Kriemhild with a bit of disbelief as she details her 'cunning plan', before growing alarmed that they're going to have to discuss battle strategies.
"I, er... I can poke things with a spear, or shoot some bullets at them. I can heal you, and cast a few spells. But mostly Horn takes care of most of the fighting... When we do get into fights."
You have yet to see Linge train with any kinds of weapons, and she's definitely not on the muscular side. Her short hesitation and evasive answers alone tell you that she probably has never been in a fight, though she obviously doesn't want to admit it.
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As Golden Arrow approaches the stables, she once again hears Sophia struggling and the sound of the horses crashing against the stable walls and doors. As Golden Arrow rounds the corner, she sees one of the stall doors bust open, knocking Sophia down, and a horse begin to wildly run and jump about in this rear courtyard. “Don’t let him get out.” she stands quickly and rushes to reign in the freed horse; “All of them have gone wild. Even your mules I had to tie within their stalls.”
Hearing the ruckus first, the Elf was already moving inside to figure out what was going on. Seeing the young woman get bowled over, Golden Arrow jumped to action, or tried to at least.
Soothing tones, slow and purposeful movements, the Elf did all she could to try to get the bewildered beasts to find themselves once again at peace. Though, something out there was spooking them something fierce... and they're hardly ever wrong about those feelings.
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Kessir slow-blinked at the demonic words spewing from Kriemhold. “I..I, uh…” he did his best impersonation of a fish gasping. “I intend to keep anything that’s hostile from getting that close to us. I’ve also been exploring these woods since before I could walk. When I was a baby my mom would…” Kessir felt himself heading toward a line of thinking he was not prepared to explore while sitting at the Stoat and quickly diverted himself. “What I mean is, I can handle any recon if need be.”
Kessir wiped the blood from his lip on his shoulder. “Oh, hi, Mia,” Kessir said. “No, I didn’t pick up anything. I figured since Krokod was seeing about those changes of clothes, he could go ahead and get whatever else we might need.“
“Actually, since it looks like we might have a free minute, I was hoping to talk to you about something,” Kessir said. He shifted from one foot to the other. “Ya know, I’ve been coming to you for a while now for all of my bows and whatnot. And there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a bit now. Any chance that you-Linge! Alright, glad to see we’re all starting to trickle in.” Kessir looked over Linge’s shoulder and asked, “Where’s the fluff ball?”
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Those who eat are thankful for the warm meal, the mug of ale or tea, and a friendly conversation. Talking to those in the Stoat doesn’t prove fruitful with any information. It’s all different variations of what you have already heard around town, or from the council.
Kale laughs at Kessir’s joke picking up only 4 pieces of the silver and leaving 4 behind. She continues busing tables and refilling mugs of ale.
Vivialla gives Krokod a wink; “Probably not, but I have sold items on credit to those who are good for it.” as Mia ask about the tents she shakes her head; “Krokod didn’t say anything about tents. Only the outfits.”
Golden Arrow’s quick acting helps keep the horse in the rear court yard. “I don’t know what’s gotten into them.” Sophia says as she gains control of the horse with Golden Arrow’s aid. “If I thought they’d make it I’d let them roam in Jones’ fields. They have the tallest gated fence this close to town. They are going to end up hurting themselves otherwise.”
Golden Arrow moves the cart to the rear courtyard.
It has been a couple hours of errand running and meals being had when everyone starts to arrive around the same time at the Apothecary. Kessir and Mia at first then others shortly after.
Elder Natharen Safander opens the door and sees the group of you there. “I didn’t realize you’d be gone so long. When I said I would have Tessaraea wake the man I thought you’d make a few quick stops.” he opens the door into Willowbark Apothecary.
Within you see Tessaraea Willowbark bringing a steaming bowl and a loaf of bread to the table towards a man who looks to be in rough shape. Tessarea looks to the party then to Linge irritated. “I hear you would like to speak to Yuln Oerstag? He’s been waiting.” The elf sits at the table opposite her patient.
Mia listens intently to Kessir as he starts to ask his question, only to have her curiosity remain unsatisfied as Linge shows up. She tries to hide her frustration, not wanting to make the moment more awkward. The question about Horn piques her own curiosity, only for it to be crushed, this time by Elder Natharen. His mild chastisement and the irritated look Tessaraea gives them has her turning beet-red with embarrassment and shame. She hadn't meant to take so long, she truly hadn't. It just sort of happened.
She shuffles in behind the others, content to let them take the lead.
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Fast-forward, but still feel free to do anything your character would need to do before arriving
Willowbark Apothecary (5 on the map)
It has been a couple hours of errand running and meals being had when everyone starts to arrive around the same time at the Apothecary. Kessir and Mia at first then others shortly after.Elder Natharen Safander opens the door and sees the group of you there. “I didn’t realize you’d be gone so long. When I said I would have Tessaraea wake the man I thought you’d make a few quick stops.” he opens the door into Willowbark Apothecary.
Within you see Tessaraea Willowbark bringing a steaming bowl and a loaf of bread to the table towards a man who looks to be in rough shape. Tessarea looks to the party then to Linge irritated. “I hear you would like to speak to Yuln Oerstag? He’s been waiting.” The elf sits at the table opposite her patient.
"Haggling at the general store took longer than I thought, Elder Safander." He explains, then goes on in, nods to Tessarea "Apologies, I got kind of lost in budgetary concerns in the General store." Like is the council good for what they say or aren't they? Seems to be a lack of trust... but bringing that up isn't wise.
Boldly as brass, he comes forward to Yuln Oerstag, "And apologies double over to you, sir. I'm Krokod. I'm with Heldren's Investigative Council Utilized Patrol.. or HICUP for short. Can you tell us what you remember of the incident on your way here?"
Krokod hopes that sounds official enough. Perhaps he should have discussed matters with the others, but hey, this is Taldor. And every legion or squad seems to have some slightly pretentious name in order to give it that extra ommph!
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A smack and a groan come from Mia as she slaps her forehead in disbelief. She didn't think this impromptu group could justify the dignity of a name, but it surely didn't deserve one that sounded like hiccup! Nor did it help that Krokod sounded too much like a gnomish instructor her "father" had brought in that liked to come up with names that could be turned into puns with their first letters, no matter how forced.
Krooookod! Why? She thinks as she looks over her hand that had slid down her face at the young cook.
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Hicup? For real? Lemme check, names of the most notorious merc companies I am aware off...
Golden Erinyes Legion
Evokes gold, angry but reasonably hot devil and girls, not a bad salespitch.
ORChestra
Bunch of murder hoboes from the Hold of Belkzen who are
lead by a very drunk Orc who used to be a cook and is trying to wield an ORCa-whale as a weapon. Never accept a position of being a sORCeror with these guys. Actually sing so badly it works as a sonic weapon
Forsaken
Started as a Sarkorian Kellid black ops unit in the first Deskarite-Sarkorian war, got sentenced to death by the inquisition for consorting with demons, broke out of prison, now work for Nocticula if she wants some violence problem solved "professionally", rather then sick a bunch of adrenaline crazed murder hobo violence junkies at that problem which brings us to
Midnights witches
Funny how two of these groups are all female. The "ladies" are a bunch of demon, half demon or people who think being a demon would be cool. They are generalized psychopaths who are also mostly working for Nocticula, the big-boned-bat-b@*~$ being the Abysses best employer or something, I mean, probably high employee satisfaction yada yada. Oh, they have an insanely capable and highly professional marketing department! Dont f&$& with Suzie from marketing! Both literally and figuratively!
Second Sons
Typically more like, 4th or 5th sons. Mostly a means to get children unlikely to inherit either killed or experienced at war. Their main issue is, if you are not their main recruitment demographic, why would I take commands from some noble nincompoop who thinks he is the main character in some fiery emblem story?
Last resort
Undead influenced merc operating out of geb lead by a Vampiress that is really good at negotiating. Excellent Dental care package.The contract says they get to raise you as an undead if you die. Not my type because the ghouls are smelly!
These at least are the groups, some real, some not, that were getting talked about while I was with the mercs.
Kriemhild snaps out of her reverie.
The Hicup thing is more like an improvised name roight? I would prefer something more emotive, loik, "Destructive Donkeys"? "Paid for Punches"? She remarks about the names.
But, anyway Mr. Yuln, who f%!+ed you up, where, when, how many, tactics, magical means, and armaments used? She suddenly gets professional and takes out a journal.
THe journal is mostly full of
surprisingly good doodles depicting the merry and not quite safe for work adventures of "Kriemhild and Horn, violence providers" on the current page titled "drop bear incident" well, make a guess.
Well, I guess those are marginally better than HICUP, Mia thinks to herself as Kriemhild begins... taking... notes?
The young bowyer peeks past the much taller woman's shoulder, and frowns.
Oh boy, Linge is not going to be happy if she ever sees this. At least this explains that one time I saw Horn staggering around the village a couple of months ago. I thought I smelled whiskey.
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Kessir looked over Linge’s shoulder and asked, “Where’s the fluff ball?”
A very guilty expression shows up on Linge's face, and she looks down at her feet. "I left him outside town," she answers almost in a whisper. "In the hunter shack you showed him. I couldn't risk him causing a panic!" she dares to look Kessir in the eyes. "Not with a patient to take care of. I wouldn't have been able to keep an eye on him."
She's clearly ashamed and distressed.
At Tessaraea's:
Linge absolutely wilts under Tessaraea's exasperated gaze. "W-we had to grab something to eat," she stammers, clearly aware that this makes them look even more like children who showed up late at one of Natharen's lessons. She forces herself to raise her voice a little, courageously. "It took too much time. We're sorry." She makes no comment on Krokod's weird naming choice, though she does shoot him an odd look.
Out of the corner of her eye, she catches a glimpse of Kriemhild's doodles. Then takes a good look. The colour drains from her face and for a moment, she looks furious. Now is not the time to make a scene, however, and she forces her attention back to the patient.
"How do you feel today, Mr. Oerstag?" she asks, her voice a little strained, as she takes in the Ulfen's general state. She cannot say anything to Kriemhild... Yet.
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Krooookod! Why? She thinks as she looks over her hand that had slid down her face at the young cook.
Awww, she loves it
The Hicup thing is more like an improvised name roight? I would prefer something more emotive, loik, "Destructive Donkeys"? "Paid for Punches"? She remarks about the names.
If she had said witches outloud, she would have gotten a firm head shake no no no hell no, but at the Destructive Donkeys, he ponders this, and Paid for Punches too. He mutters thinking it over "I don't know about Hicup being not emotive enough, they seem pretty animated to me but I do think it needs the village name: Heldren's Harriers, or Swords of Heldren, or even Heldren's Hammers..." Then he adds on "Of justice."
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When Linge ask how Mr. Oerstag is doing he waves a bandaged hand; “I am well enough. I do wish I could go back. 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 slaw at least one of them before they dragged Lady Argentea away.” Said in a thick Skald accent.
Holding out his bandaged hand; “I can barely life this bowl of soup, let alone by blade. Also, just Yuln.” Ulfen mercenaries aren’t that formal.
When Krokod and Kriemhild pepper him with more questions, the Ulfen man sits back in his chair. He closes his eyes thinking, recalling what had happened.
“We thought they were just bandits at first – outlaws who hide like wolves in the forest. Cowards.” He almost goes to spit, but opening his eyes he remembers he is inside. “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.”
Seeing a confused look on a few faces when he says the words winter-touched, Yulin continues to explain; “They are fey creatures who have sworn themselves to the White Witches of Irrisen, those who stole our lands from us during the Winter War.” with that Yuln does spit; “Tiny sprites no taller than the length of a man’s forearm.” he shows using his arm as an example; “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.”” he takes a drink of his soup.
Turning to Tessaraea; “Do you have more of that lovely tea from yesterday?”
Krokod listens, and then...talk of winter touched.. he doesn't KNOW what it means, but for some reason is stirs a terrible dread in him. He shivers, and it has naught to do with the cold outside. Things he's tried to forget, and only half succeeded at. Stories he was told as a boy , mutterings of a crone ...
"..who have sworn themselves to the White Witches of Irrisen.."
At that, the young man goes pale as a well cleaned white sheet, "Did you say... witches of Irrisen? "
No no no, not here. Not in Taldor. They have no reach here. They have no reach here. No no not here. Not in Taldor. They have no reach here. They have no reach here... He eyes the door as if tempted to exit... now. Just leave.
Instead he visibly steadies himself against the nearest wall.
"Where did they attack you?" Linge asks, confused. "And why would they take Lady Argentea with them? Did she have enemies?"
Maybe the man was still a bit delirious after all.
Mia shifts uncomfortably as Yuln describes the foes. Half-forgotten lessons and memories of a mad wizard babbling about the fey and immortality swirl around in her mind.
"She may have had something they wanted or needed," she muses aloud, just loud enough for everyone to hear her.
Hehe, they are fighting in unfamiliar terrain and their logistics must be completely f~@@ed up! Kriemhild is pretty sanguine about things.
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Now caught up with the party at the Apothecary, Golden Arrow again stays in the rear of the group listening to the explanations to the questions posed by everyone. The Elf frowns a bit when the Ulfen man, Yuln apparently, expresses shame in his lack of valor, and that his ancestors would be ashamed of him. "Don't be in shame because you live, Yuln of Linnorm. Life is never to be cursed. Your ancestors will know of your resilience, and praise you for making it this far. Your time to die in battle simply wasn't this one." Golden Arrow offered a reverent bow of her head to the frostbitten Ulfen.
Listening to the description of the foes that bested his friends and stole the Lady, more frowns cross the Ilverani's lips. Golden Arrow would speak up saying, "My people have encountered sprites such as this. We call them Jäähaldjas*. It's as he says, to the eye they aren't so dissimilar to how I look, save for their height, and the white moth wings on their back. They're quiet, and are as stealthy as a whisper." The elf would move towards the fireplace and squat, holding her hands out for warmth.
"...as for Irrisen, those people were far from our lands, to the south of us. Never had contact with their kind."
"Hehe, they are fighting in unfamiliar terrain and their logistics must be completely f+#$ed up!" Kriemhild is pretty sanguine about things.
Looking to the Orc, Golden Arrow says "Have you ever fought in the snow, in the middle of summer? It sounds like they're changing the terrain to liking. It's us," Golden Arrow would gesture to the party as she was saying this, "... that will be at the disadvantage. These Jäähaldjas are changing the very land. Or at least, their master is."
The Elf would pluck a log from the dry stack next to the hearth and place it atop the already burning coals.
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Tessaraea pours steaming water from a kettle that was resting on an iron shelf in her fireplace. Opening a few drawers and mixes herbs into the mug and brings it to Yuln. “Let it seep for a few minutes.” he nods his thanks.
“Yep, they are the only ones who can twist the fey like that.” he breaths in the tea through his frostbitten nose and winces as if it is painful. “You’ve heard of them… sir?” he says to Krokod who clearly looks shaken. “I wouldn’t want anything to do with them either. I’ve seen their wretched souls at work.”
“Attack us? It was a few miles down the road towards the Boarder Wood. You can’t miss it if you follow the road. I feel terrible for any travelers that might have come across the site since I fled.” a twinge of shame comes across his face when he said fled. “I don’t know why anyone would take her. 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 took the Lady 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. From your village…” he says sadly.
Yuln leans forward straining to hear Mia’s voice; “Don’t be so quiet. If they were here, you being silent wouldn’t help. She was a Lady. I am sure she had valuables in her carriages. She was supposed to be married. I am sure there is wealth in that.”
Yuln chuckles at the half-orcs comment, but when Golden Arrow speaks up he nods; “Listen to this one. The road down there is covered in snow and ice, but as soon as you step into those woods you are in deep snow. Travel is not going to be what you are use to.”
Looking over the group; “It seems that the lot of you are getting ready to go and see the ambush site? I wish I could go with you. If I can’t be there in person, then I’ll be with you in aid.” pulling his scabbard free, he places a sheathed longsword on the table before him. The iron of the pommel and guard are aged, but well cared for. The leather grip is a leather grip has been made dark with age, but looks as if it has been replaced. “This blade is fraendi she has seen many battles and has kept my ancestors safe.” pulling the blade free, you can tell that this is an old blade but still in excellent shape. “I will want it back, but she will help with those winter-touched fey.” he places the sword back in its sheath and lets it rest on the table.
As he pulls the blade free you, being a smith yourself, notice from the grain in the steel that this blade wasn’t forged in high temperature that you’re used to. This is a Cold Iron Longsword
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“Yep, they are the only ones who can twist the fey like that.” he breaths in the tea through his frostbitten nose and winces as if it is painful. “You’ve heard of them… sir?” he says to Krokod who clearly looks shaken. “I wouldn’t want anything to do with them either. I’ve seen their wretched souls at work.”
Krokod nods in answer, and says an old rhyme. It's almost sing song, but then it would be, for in a land where winter never ends, it's a children's rhyme used to both keep cadence, and teach the young to fear so they MIGHT survive.
"Bak hvert snøfnugg finner du et hekseøye. Og hver istapp, en heksetal, klar til å slå til. Ingen kjærlighet, ingen varme, ingen latter; De dør ved vinterens føtter. Hvis Winter er en gudinne, enn heksene er hennes prester.""Oh, I've heard of them," The young man says, rubbing his arms as if cold despite being indoors, "I've tried to forget. They are not supposed to reach this far." He nods at the man's mention of a White Witch sending them...and he listens to Golden Arrow's advice, nodding. It's been so long since he had to trundle through deep snow he is not sure he will have the knack anymore, but he nods "But they are reaching this far. We need to kill these Ice fairies if we can. We need to rescue the lady, but we need to kill these Jäähaldjas if we can. If they're spreading this cold, then they are ... like scouts in an army. Cut their eyes out, burn them to ash, and you might stop worse from following." Krokod is terrified, but it is the terror of a cornered animal, and he bares his teeth like wise. "Burn them, melt them, boil them send them back to the North to never ever return!"
And then he realizes he sounds like a madman, and says, "What does the lady look like? Hair, eyes? We'll not leave any innocent we find there I don't think, but best to know anyway." There, that sounded saner, right? Practical.
He is pacing now. Like a panther caught in a small ravine and unable to climb its way out.
Interesting, so they can use weather as a weapon? The worldwound was a bit like that as well, in the early war phases, Sarkoris lost as many men to starvation because Derpkaris locust swarms f@#+ed up the harvest as it lost to demon claws. What do they eat though, if they have to eat? She taps her Bardiche
My axes name is "Nein, du"
No U
Behind worthy f*##ingsnow you find the witches, in worthy stops a witchvalley, cleared to kill you, no light, no warmth, no butter? The door to f~+@ing winter, this winter will be good if we press the witches hard?
Orcish and Ulfen have some common terms, and Kriemhild tries to translate using this.
Mia jumps as Yuln addresses her. She hadn't meant to speak aloud, but apparently her thoughts had other ideas.
"S-sorry! I didn't realize I was talking out loud," she stammers.
Fool, she hears Galvinius say in her mind as Yuln continues to speak and the conversation flows around her. Always the fool, Curseborn child.
She thinks about trying to slip out the door when she hears Krokod's raving. She looks at the almost ever-cheerful cook and starts to wonder what secrets hide in his past. She shakes the thought away, then her eyes fall on Yuln's sword.
Cold iron, she thinks to herself as she picks up the blade from the table and holds it reverently in her hands.
"Thank you, Master Yuln," she tells the man as they are about to leave. "I will see your fraendi back to your hands."
"Have you ever fought in the snow, in the middle of summer? It sounds like they're changing the terrain to their liking. It's us,... that will be at the disadvantage. These Jäähaldjas are changing the very land. Or at least, their master is."
As Golden Arrow voices her thoughts, the situation starts making a lot more sense to Linge, and Yuln Oerstag seems a lot less delirious than what she has assumed. She'd been suspecting that this unnatural winter might have had magical causes for a long time. Fey creatures coming from the frost -now, that could explain a few things.
"Thank you for your gift," she nods respectfully to Yuln after he places his blade on the table. Even if she couldn't wield such a weapon (and wouldn't know how, anyway), she fully measured the weight of the responsability Yuln was placing in them with this simple gesture. Ulfens did not part with ancestral weapons lightly. "We'll take great care of it and return it to you, even from beyond the grave."
There was no breaking such an oath. If an Ulfen warrior went into the afterlife without his weapons or armour, then he was no warrior -and if he had lost the weapons that made the fame of his ancestors, then he had no honour. If you were felled in battle with someone else's ancestral blade, either your surviving kin or friends would return the weapon for you, or you would be forced to roam this earth until you could do it yourself.
All legends, of course -with all the pillaging going on on the battlefields, it would have caused more than a little logistical problem in the spirit world already. But in Ulfen culture, it was still a legend that mattered.
Linge listens to the conversation enfold, and realises just how involved and emotional Krokod is getting over this. She hadn't noticed, with all of Kriemhild's nonsense going on. "What are the Winter Witches? The Winter Wars? What would they be doing so far south?" she asks to Yuln, then looks at Krokod pointedly. "How do you know about them?"
Normally, Krokod would laugh at Kriemhild's banter about butter. He had joked with her a long time before, but now his face is grim "It's not about butter, though the Witches will let whole villages starve if they rebel. It's an old child's rhyme, so every Irrisien learns from an early age who the power in their world is." The memories are vague, years of WISHING them away are not undone completely in an instant "There's some trade for food from beyond, which can be cut off in an area if it's peasants become unruly. There fish, walrus blubber and meat if you can get it."
Krokod tries to remember the name of the hunter commissioned to get the walrus meat for his mistress' home. He nearly died in the attempt, bloody and staggering he returned.. he was offered coin for the task, so he was paid coin, and then, with the walrus meat dragged in, the hunter was sent off into the oncoming storm, no doubt the wounded fellow died somewhere out there. The coin in his pocket doing him little good when it was shelter that he needed.
I don't remember his name. I don't even remember much of what he looked like. I didn't want to remember.
Mia's stare at his raving pierces him with shame She thinks I'm mad. They're going to figure it out and think worse. Best to be honest, lies only work to kill you in the Hoarfrost
Linge listens to the conversation enfold, and realises just how involved and emotional Krokod is getting over this. She hadn't noticed, with all of Kriemhild's nonsense going on. "What are the Winter Witches? The Winter Wars? What would they be doing so far south?" she asks to Yuln, then looks at Krokod pointedly. "How do you know about them?"
By now, he's pacing, as much in control as he can get, and bites his lip. She's not going to like the answer. Linge is not going to like what it says of herself if she thinks on her accent too much. He should spare her but at the same time, it's all coming out anyway. Well, not ALL. Not yet. "It's like Yuln the Generous says: They stole the lands of the Linnorm Kings from them a long time ago. They unleashed monsters upon them, they released a magic winter... one that clings still to the claimed territory. I wish I could give the proper history, but I was young when I fled, and I was never that educated in the details of the history. The Winter Witches are said to be descended from the greatest of Witches, who left her daughters, adopted and bred alike, to rule. Each Winter Witch embraces not just the power of the cold, but the nature of it into their very heart. They rule with an iron fist under the Eldest Crone's favored daughter's leadership The queen of Irrisen." There's more, much more, but he does not remember. He was taught fear more than facts. "I don't know what they're doing so far south. It should not be possible. I'm hoping Yuln and I are wrong somehow. And how do I know?" An admission "I'm not from the land of the Linnorm Kings. I am from Irrisen. I was born there, and from there I fled swearing I'd never go back. I was lucky to make it here alive to folks who are kind, who accepted me. That's why I say we need to rescue this lady, and kill the ice fae. If they are of Irrisen, if they ARE bound to Winter Witches, we want them killed. Mark me, Heldren and it's people are not ready for mystic winter or the horrors it spawns."
Krokod looks at the others, but most especially at Linge.
Supposedly the leader or Irrisen, Baba Yaga, unmanned the demon Lord Koschtschie and got away with it. Demon Lords are pretty nasty customers, I would claim that Sarkoris is more f*$%ed then Irrisen is but its close?
She pauses
But why the hell are they dicking around with Taldor? Taldor has seen better days, but its legions are hardly pushovers, they have allies they can call in, and they are pretty good at assassinations. They are also like, pragmatic enough to just order a bunch of hits on Irriseni leadership in Alyushinyrra or however that place is even spelled...
Wait, do we even know if Taldor is the only place they are messing with? She pauses
Is it only Taldor or are they doing something crazy enough where we are collateral damage? Also, abduction of nobles? Is it for interrogation, conversion or impersonation? Or first one then the others? SHe muses, betraying a perhaps unusual degree of understanding
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When Krokod begins his rhyme Yuln looks surprised and joins in with him; “De dør ved vinterens føtter. Hvis Winter er en gudinne, enn heksene er hennes prester.” with Krokod’s call to Burn them, melt them, boil them send them back to the North to never ever return! Yuln’s Ulfen blood begins to surge and he unsheathes Frændi and lets out a cheer that is quickly cut off as he drops the sword due to the pain in his fingers; “Curse those damns witches and what they’ve done to me!” Yuln sits back in his chair.
As the company begins to share their knowledge of the Winter Witches, The Winter Wars, and other things of the north, Yuln speaks up; “You ask why Taldor, why Heldren? There are many of you with some form of tie to the north. Maybe the witches of the north are seeking something. I pray to my ancestors that I would be healthy enough to fight beside Taldor’s legion if they try to claim these lands. A worthy battle it would be.”
Elder Natharen is against the wall taking notes of what the discussion that has been taking place. He is a good councilman.
What strange turn of events this day had taken. First a newcomer and now winter-touched fey attacking carriages along the road. Not only that but, these fey were somehow tied to witches from far north. Most of the others seemed to be taking it all in stride, answering the call with little hesitation.
“So why do I suddenly feel so hesitant about this whole thing?” Kessir thought. “Of all of us, shouldn’t I feel the strongest urge to protect Heldren? To protect MY Heldren?”
A voice whispered through time in the back of Kessir’s mind. “You’re in my hoooome,” it cooed. The voice brought with it an intense headache just between his eyes. But several years of similar headaches and more than one visit to Tesserae, had taught Kessir how to alleviate the pain. Or, at least, manage it.
Kessir put his thumb against the inside of the bone around his right eye, where the bridge of his nose began to curve into his eye socket and applied pressure to the sharp headache that had sprung up. He held the pressure for a few seconds like a child pressing down on a loose tooth, almost enjoying the pain he caused himself because it meant that when he stopped the aching would feel less painful by comparison.
Kessir released the pressure before speaking. “So, these jaha-jahold-ja- these winter fey are working for some evil witches. And they just happen to come to Heldren. And you two,” Kessir made a point to look to Krokod and Kriemhild, “just happen to know an awful lot about them.” Kessir let the words hang in the air before smiling. “I suppose Old Deadeye is looking out for his flock and sent you here.”
“Please, get some rest, Yuln.” Kessir turned and caught sight of Mia holding the borrowed sword. “Do you even know how to use that thing?”