Snow gently falls from the sky and wind bites your cheeks as you stand in the graveyard of Palebank Village, a fishing outpost of Uthodurn that is home to several hundred dwarves and elves. The sun is low in the sky, sinking behind the fresh grave of Urgon Wenth, an old dwarf who caught a curse or disease that turned him into an ice statue. The folk of the village have gathered to pay their final respects to Urgon’s frozen remains. 

Urgon’s sole surviving family member, his nephew Durnham, is at the front of the small crowd having just delivered a eulogy to his enigmatic uncle and closed the quiet but respectful ceremony. 

Within the crowd stand a tall goliath, who can’t help but catch sideways glances from the village folk, and a human in dark clothing; both arrived in Palebank from Uthodurn with Durnham. A raven sits atop a nearby gravestone, observing the ritual with detached curiosity. 

Behind and a little distant from the crowd stands the druid known only in these parts as Winterwalker, paying his respects from afar without embroiling himself in the social complexities of mourning. He catches the goliath’s eye and they give each other a subtle nod of recognition. 

In the middle of the huddled villagers, a small and slight figure moves.  Hidden within a hooded cloak, she seems to be getting rather close to the assembled people – and their money belts.  Almost simultaneously, her suspicious movements are spotted by the goliath, the druid, Urgon’s nephew and the dark-clothed human... 

The girl shivers, pulling at the edges of her thin cloak moving with the crowd as it leans in to hear the service over the biting wind and snow.  She wraps the collar about her ears pressing closely to keep out the cold, revealing pointy tips that stick out through her hair.  A gnome?  In Palebank?  She looks sad, tired and hungry as if a dear one has passed.  Huddling close to those nearby to soak up some warmth.  

Ressys stood outside the crowd and watched the others as they mourned the dwarf who had died.  He wrapped himself tighter in his bear cloak to keep out the biting wind.  His unkempt hair and beard blew in the wind, his weathered face uncovered, with hard eyes he observed the crowd.  He catches the eye of Kotar and gives him a nod.  He makes a mental note to approach the goliath and see why he had returned to Palebank Village.  He also noted that Kotar stood with Durnham, interesting.  Urgon's nephew had returned to the village and in the company of the goliath and another, a man he had never seen before.  Time would come for those conversations but Ressys had only come into the village that morning himself.  He had heard enough to know the Durnham had returned, and in the company of others.  It had been a few years since the young dwarf had left for his studies.

The gnome then caught his attention.  There were few gnomes in Palebank and he did not think he had seen this one before.  But he didn't know every soul that lived in the village.  And it had been some time since his last visit.  Elro Aldataur would know who he is, it was his affair to watch over the village.  Ressys turns his attention back to the words that were just finishing.  The small ceremony was coming to a close.  

As the crowd dispersed he would approach Kotar to see what had brought the goliath back to the village.  He moved towards the goliath and looked at him.   It was strange to look at another eye to eye.   He was so used to towering over everyone he met with he came to the village. At 7'1" in height the cool gray skinned Firbolg stood so much taller then the dwarves,  though sometimes he met an elf that may match his height.  "Greetings Kotar, it is good to see you again.  What brings you back to Palebank?"

Kotar stood tall and silent as snowflakes speckled his shoulders, melting over his dark cape and long-sleeved chain mail. Shield over the left arm, sword in the triple belt, hood down and mind in the past. The Goliath knew it was Durnham’s time of grieving, but he could not help remembering his grandfather. How long it’s been? He asked with the voice of his mind, trying to remember when he last saw Lo-Kang.

He was brought back to reality by the sight of an acquaintance. On those parts most knew the Firbolg as Winterwalker, but the Fighter knew the man’s true name. Ressy nodded to him as a distant greeting, and he did the same in return. At some point in the funeral a small woman appeared. Gnome, he recognized. Albeit not prevalent, there were Gnomes in Uthodurn. This one seemed dejected, almost as if Urgon was a relative of hers. Or, at the very least, a dear friend.

With each passing moment more and more of the crowd dispersed. Not that they were mistaken in doing so. Their lives continued and they needed to carry on. It was the old Wenth who passed away - and in a rather strange manner. Kotar knew places where the weather was far harsher, colder, than in Paleblank and its surroundings. Hells, he was born in one of such places. Even then he never heard of a disease that could literally freeze someone, let alone to death. He was pondering if he should keep the thought to himself when Ressy approached him.

“It’s good to see you too.” He answered with an almost sad smile. “I just wished it could have been in a…” The warrior deterred himself in search of an adequate word. “Different situation.” He said looking to Durnham. “This is Urgon’s nephew. We are accompanying him, paying respect.” He concluded, briefly using his right hand to point in Brandon’s direction.

"Life and death, that is the cycle of the natural world." Ressys replies bluntly, "Though this seems different.  I have seen many a creature that has frozen to death in the Greying Wildlands, but not like this.  Unnatural it is."

When Kotar motions to Durnham Ressys nods.  "I know who the boy is, as I knew his uncle.  It has been many a year since I had seen him though, left for his studies." A glint comes to his hard eyes, a small smile crosses his weather beaten face.  "Used to follow me around when I passed through Palebank.  Would pester me with questions about what was beyond the limits of the village, of the beasts, the alps and the Crystalsands Tundra.  He seems to have grown some while he was gone.  He likely knows more than all those who live in this village now."  

He then takes in the other, the man that stood nearby.  "Who is the other?  Another companion picked up in your travels?" He asks.

Brandon pulls his cloak tighter against the cold breeze.  The dark traveling cloak was draped over scale mail and the hilt of his sword hung ready by his side.  He had traveled to Palebank searching for information on Eiselcross and the expeditions looking for artifacts there and came upon the funeral.  The entire town was present, so it would be the best place to get information anyway.  Death was a natural end to life, something he was no stranger to, but being turned into an ice statue was curious. 

He looked around at the group assembled in the graveyard.  Among the villagers a few stood out; Kotar, the tall Goliath fighter traveled with them to Palebank, Brandon had asked him about his homeland and looked for opportunities to learn from his skill with a sword, and Durnham, the dwarf from Uthodurn.  Brandon had seen him in the library at the Vellum Steeple, but had shared few words with him on the journey here.  Apparently, the dwarf being laid to rest today was a relation.  He also noticed a wild looking elf talking with Kotar, and raised his eyebrow at a small gnome crowding against the mourners.

After the ceremony ended, Brandon approached Durnham and placed a hand on his shoulder “My condolences on your loss.  Death is the natural ending for all, may the Matron guide his soul to peace”

The sad little gnome brushes back her sandy hair and keeps moving in close to the onlookers at the funeral.  Her expression shifting from sadness to one of determination.  Looking as if she's trying to convince herself of something she reaches out towards a dwarf at the gathering.  Slipping, she catches his shoulder instead and apologizes profusely.

"I'm so sorry, so clumsy." She sputters out a little too loudly.  As the old dwarf turns to her, the sadness in his eyes meets her own deep green and he nods to her and looks back again at the ceremony.  A startled look crosses her face and she gently drops something into his pocket.  

She brushes the back of her hand across her face, wiping away the snowflakes falling on her little lashes and sighs.  Shaking her head every so slightly, she walks slowly away.  Nearing the side of a small church structure, and now sheltered from the wind, she digs into a little place nearby and seems to pull out several items.  She straps a pack to her shoulders with bow and quiver, tucks a couple of daggers in her belt and you realize she has tucked all of this here in the snow bank.  She continues for a moment, then turns and sits with her back against the building watching as the crowd disperses.  

@Qidira:

A crunch of footsteps announces the approach of someone capable of stealth but not trying to hide their arrival.  You look up through the gentle snowfall to see a weathered male elf standing over you, face marked with sadness and compassion.  In your short time at Palebank you have seen and heard many townfolk deferring to him, and you recall the name 'Elro'

"I saw what you did, little one.  I can't condone your initial intent, but you have a tendency towards decency which may affect your career prospects in that line of work.  What are you doing in Palebank?"

Durnham feels nothing. It wasn’t the cold, though that didn’t help, he grew up in Palebank and was used to the cold. He approaches an eleven couple and hugged them briefly. “I’ll see you back at the house later.” Durnham then walked towards the small gathering of new and old acquaintances. He nods silently to the many folk offering condolences as he passes. He barely hears what they say and offers no words in response. He spent all his words in the Eulogy, talking in front of a group was not something he was used to.

As he approached his recent traveling companions, Kotar and Brandon, Durnham realizes that Winterwalker is nearby as well. “Uncle Urgon knew a lot of different people,” he thinks. “What did he know about my parents?” More words are spoken, people saying they were sorry or offering condolences. He barely heard them. 

“Winterwalker, Kotar... you both have spent a lot of time in the cold wildlands... have either of you ever seen something like this? A seemingly healthy person turning to ice out of nowhere?” It didn’t make sense.

“Just try to not tell it to the guy who just lost an uncle.” He said in response to the Firbolg comment about death, knowing well enough how oblivious one can be about the common sense of city people. “Fire is natural, but still hurts when it happens too close. Give time for him to deal with his pain.”

That was something he knew from experience. Both the need of time and the pain in the flames. He was a boy when he learned, playing with the other children of the clan when one of then asked who had the courage to put a hand in a bonfire. Stupid like a rock, Kotar decided to take up the challenge.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. Durnham literally takes his power from technical knowledge of the arcane.” The Goliath answered to Ressys’s comment about the dwarf intelligence, half surprised the Druid knew the Wizard. “The other one is Brandon. The best way I could describe him is as a warrior journeying in search of betterment. Got an interest in fighting techniques and magic, that one.”

Soon enough Druham approached them, his voice echoing their thoughts.

“We were talking just about that.” He said assuming a more serious tone. “I have never heard of this kind of thing happening and Ressys think it unnatural. Folk’s been saying it was some disease or curse - I’m guessing the later. Do you think he stumbled upon something cursed or…” Did someone kill the old man?

Durnham frowns angrily. “I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to my Uncle in years. We had a falling out when my parents died.” He then smiles sadly as he remembers “As a child I used to hang on his every word. He would tell me about his adventures and the creatures he saw and the lands he roamed.” Durnham’s face hardens again, “But he never told me the truth about what he was doing. He treated me like a child who couldn’t understand anything. When I received that letter from him I thought he was finally ready to trust me, treat me like an adult and let me come with him...”

She looks up squinting against the glare of the sun on the snow, "I know, I'm a wretched creature."  Looking a little ashamed.  "I took a transport here, hoping for better, but don't know what I'm going to do.  There was nothing for me in Uthodurn, scraping on the streets was getting dangerous as the part of town I was in didn't accept gnomes.  I passed for a young elf for a while, but I'm too old now I don't look at all like one of them."  

She looks back to where the old dwarf was, "I've never seen sadness like that before.  I couldn't bear it."  Her voice trails off and she hangs her head a moment.  "You said..line of work?  And prospects.  What sort of prospects?  I need work."  She brightens realizing what he may be suggesting, could there be something she could make a living at beyond the streets? "Are you Elro?  I think I've heard people speak of you in Palebank."

Ressys grunted at the mild rebuke from his friend but he gave no other answer.

The firbolg looked down at the young dwarf as he approached. He was still young as the dwarves were a long lived race.  Ressys knew he would likely outlive even Durnham's long life but that was a matter for another day. 

"There are creatures that could freeze you though it is more likely the elements would kill you first here in the north.  There is nothing to my knowledge that would do this to a hardy dwarf.  It is unnatural." He answered him.

If you are paying attention to such things you notice that at no point does Ressys offer condolences to Durnham, yet he is not harsh with the young dwarf either. It is as if the firbolg has no knowledge of how to act or what to say in this situation but not just out of ignorance of what to say.   He is clearly oblivious to the social norms of the situation and what should be said.

"Is that why you have returned to Palebank? Because your uncle died or had you hoped to find a relationship that is now lost by his death? You have certainly grown in the years you have been gone. Your time at the citadel of Uthodurn was well-spent I take it?"

Ressys scratches his chin and then shifts the cloak, a bear skin. You can't help but wonder how big a bear would need to be to have a cloak made from the pelt of a bear that would fit one the size of a firbolg. 7 feet at least in height and at least 250 lbs.

"Have you spoken to Elro Aldataur? He is in charge of the protection of the village. I wonder if he knows anything."

Looking around he sees that the elf ranger is now speaking to the gnome girl who sits next to the small building.

Durnham looks at Winterwalker and replies

”Yes, my studies have been good. I’m finally starting to understand magic on a basic level. At least enough to not blow myself up... again.”

”No, I had no idea he had passed.I only just arrived. I came back because he sent me a letter saying he had some kind of information about my parents. Now I’ll never know what he had to say. I hate not knowing!” And those around get the sense that this is a common complaint of his, a phrase he has said many times over his years. 

Durnham becomes uncomfortable at the idea of going to talk to Elro alone. “ Do you think WE should see if he knows anything?” Durnham looks to those around him as he tries to gather support rather than approaching the old Elf by himself.

"We?" Ressys questions out loud as he thinks for a moment. "Yes,  I suppose we could go with you.   Or at least I will go with you." He answers both himself and Durnham. 

"Kotar, will you be staying in the village for long or are you still traveling with Durnham?"

Durnham looks up at the Winterwalker and smiles gratefully. 

Elro looks down at the gnome, warmth and sadness both tainting his voice. “You’re good at what you have been doing – I can tell that wasn’t your first ever lift.  But that path carries only more sadness, and I can see that your heart will not take much more before you’re lost” 

He looks around the emptying graveyard and lingers on the four collected figures.  A thought forms in his head and he looks down at Qidira again. “Come.  I have some friends that I would like you to meet...and make” 

He leads the small gnome over to Ressys, Brandon and Durnham.  He nods to the first two, slightly deeper for the firbolg, and then puts a warm hand on Durnham’s shoulder. “My friend, I cannot say any more than you have already heard many times today.  The Greying Wildlands – all of Wildemount – is a lesser place for your uncle’s passing.  I wish that I could promise you an answer to the mystery of his demise, but in truth I am one elderly ranger and the Glassblades are more soldiers than detectives.  Good soldiers, but the wrong instrument for this task” 

Elro takes a moment to judge the group’s mood, snow settling on his face.  “I must ask you to help me in this matter, and it comes with a sense of urgency; Tulgi Lutan, the dwarven trapper, appears afflicted by the same condition that took your uncle Urgon.  If you could find the time to stay in town a little longer and solve the mystery of this illness’s source, it would be a great service to Palebank.  I can reward you from the town’s militia fund, it will more than cover your expenses.  Oh, and this-” he turns slightly and you see the small gnome shivering behind him “is my new friend.  She will help you” 

He smiles patiently, waiting for your questions or reactions.

Ressys chuckles, "Well Drunham, it looks like I do not have to go to with you, he has come to you."  Turning his attention to Elro.  "Greetings ranger." is all the firbolg says as he gives a respectful bow of his head to the elven ranger.

Durnham nods at Winterwalker and then Looks at Elro oddly “Yes... thank you Elro. All of Wildemount you say? Huh... I have so many questions and hoped you would be able to tell me more about what happened to him.”

He turns to the gnome and says “My name is Durnham, and these three are old... and new... acquaintances.” He gestures and names Brandon, Kotar, and Winterwalker. “What was your name? Did you know my Uncle too?”

He then returns to Elro and says worriedly “Is there some kind of outbreak of disease or something? What is happening to Tulgi? Is the whole village at risk?”

The gnome steps out from behind the gentle ranger Elro and gazes at each of them. Her deep green eyes sheltered by dark, sandy blond, unkept layers falling only as far as her shoulders with the tips of her wilting ears escaping their strands on either side. Little scars mark her face showing that she's lived mostly the rough life of a city and maybe a few small street battles. 

She gazes a the dwarf who must be kin to the other here that is celebrated, and opens her mouth as if to offer her own condolences but seems to fall short of the right words and clamps her mouth quickly shut. 

Turning her eyes to the human, she nods slowly. A warrior already she sees, a weapon he has used well at his side, noting the wear in the handle and the fresh shine on the blade as it peeks from its sheath.

Moving on to the odd looking, elf? She gazes almost jealously at the bear cloak he is wrapped in, thinking she could lose herself in a thing like that. What a story that might be?  The mighty bear felled in battle.  A full 4 feet taller than her she wondered what he could be. His manner was much different than an elf's and to be friends with a Goliath?

Looking at the equally towering Goliath next to him, as that MUST be what he is. She heard stories, but others always told her stories of things that weren't real, or were they? She wondered as she gazed at the being the others called, 'Windwalker'?  Not seeming to be able to take her eyes off of the sight of Kotar as she speaks carefully, her eyes stuck on him even as she turns her head to introduce herself.  

"I am Qidira, of no particular reknown, but I think what the wise ranger Elro means to reference is my talent for the lighter arts ins and outs, traps and locks and the like?  Perhaps of further assistance as, true to my race, I have a knack for tinkering.  She presents, nearly out of nowhere, a small mechanical bird, a tiny music box, and with a quick flick of her thumb  a tiny brass lighter as it produces a small flame.  I have blades and a bow I will use, but I see that's already handled."  She smiles awkwardly and pulls her gaze from Kotar as she's by now realized she's starting and looks back at Elro hoping he meant her to sell herself to them.