Ophelia descends promptly from her room, bundled up in her cold weather clothing and with her pack, snowshoes and bow strapped to her back, looking oddly prepared.  Though more characteristically, when Scramsax hands her the potato, she thanks both the innkeeper and Marva profusely, then proceeds to gaze deeply at the warm tuber in her hand for several moments as if it holds within it the secrets of the multiverse.

As the crew steps outside the Northlook and sets off, the she-elf makes some odd hand-motions, mumbles to herself in Elvish, and touches her amulet, surrounding herself with the faintest of protective lavender auras (Mage Armor, duration 8 hours).

Mumbling something bordering on sensible about her darkvision and watching the party's rear, Ophelia drifts towards the back of the marching order.  Whispering to herself.  "The voices lie in the deeps. Waiting beneath the snows, patiently, patiently. For us. To reveal the fatal softness of the Earth."

Dvu smiles at Ophelia, gazing on the illusion of the pretty northern lights as he did before, then heads up to bed.  Right before going to sleep, he pops a goodberry in his mouth for nourishment, then recasts the spell before going to sleep for 10 more fresh goodberries and carefully puts them in his pouch, securing them for travel tomorrow.  

Down at breakfast, after having coffee and taking a few warm potatoes, he sniffs the spuds before pocketing them and giving Scramsax a wink.  He sits down to discuss next steps with his companions.  

"Yes, Targos seems like a good choice for our next stop.  Let's head west, there is a little trail that will head that way, and it is closest to us.  I'll walk near the front, looking out for tracks, movement, anything that we should avoid.  We should stick together, also have a knotted rope that we can all hold onto - in case things get tough and visibility goes to squat.  That sound okay?"  The goliath starts checking his gear, tightening up straps, and securing equipment on his pack as he readies himself.  

Ellora would rise early, casting a protective spell on herself and then laying back in her bed to relax in order to recover. Later she would have tea and hopefully some oatmeal before heading out into the relentless cold. She would give Marva a grateful smile as she is handed the potatoes, not sure how much they would help but appreciating the thought, placing them in her pockets as instructed. As the motley group steps outside in the snow she would call upon her familiar, a tiny snow owl that she introduces to the others as Oculus, giving the bird a snack before sending him up to scout ahead of the team. She quickly agrees that Targos seems like a good next stop in the search for the chwingas, lighting the magical lantern and holding it as she walks close behind the front of the group.

(Cast Mage armor and then use Arcane recovery. Oculus perception: 18 )

To Marva "Thank you for the potatoes." Olfin has his leather armor and daggers at the ready. 

You step outside the relative safety of the walls of Bryn Shander and immediately feel a shiver go down your spine. Of course, the weather is worse outside the town and they say it is darkest just before sunrise, so the weather certainly plays a roll in that chill. However, it is the risk of going on an adventure that causes the sensation. Auril's everlasting winter has made a walk to the next town into something that most do not do. 

Dvu leads the way, his head scanning for trouble. Marva and Ellora follow, with the female dragonborn holding the lantern. Drift and Olfin are next, with Ophelia bring up the rear and periodically casting glances behind and strange statements forward. Oculus the Owl flies above and ahead of the group, using its darkvision to scan for threats. Your hands quickly grow cold on the rope but the intent is to keep folks together rather than to lose them. The walk to the north to Targos goes a little slower than normal but nothing exciting happens. No blizzards, yeti, goblins, or lanterns turning green takes place, which allow you to increase your familiarity with your snowshoes and your companions.

Month: Hammer, Day: VII, Time: 1030

You arrive in Targos just as some of the merchants are leaving for their own adventures. Targos has always been the main fishing port of Ten-Towns and cold weather has not changed it. The town faces the lake, and the smell of fish is strong despite the weather. Following protocol and while stamping their feet to stay warm, the guards at the gate ask what you are doing and where you are going. In the hopes of going inside to warm up, one guard helpfully throws out the three most common correct answers to the second question: the Luskan Arms inn, the harbor, or a market. How do you answer him? 

"We're here to look for a creature called a Chwinga, perhaps you have heard about them, terribly shy they are." The young white-haired woman says as she steps forward to speak to the guards at the town gate. "We're really only here to have a look around town before moving on to Bremen, but I suppose we would have lunch at the local inn too." She continues with a friendly smile. "We're mostly new to the dale I think so any advice on what to see and where to go while in town would be appreciated."

Persuasion if relevant: 20 Another roll if help action is provided: 10

“Yes, a scholar named Ms. Dannika Graysteel has sent us. She seeks to learn more about these creatures with the hope that they might have some influence or at least answers about this terrible cold winter,” adds Marva, looming over Ellora’s shoulder. “We’re not really sure where to look, so we are touring the Ten Towns. By the way, do you know of a place where I could purchase a fishing rod? Or freshly baked potatoes?”

Drift chuckles to himself as the ‘fresh’ potatoes are mentioned, but potatoes are good eats. He digs around in his pockets for his. 

Olfin, standing behind the young white-haired elf woman, nods as she speaks to the guard. "Is that a good place to stay? (referring to the Inn)"

Argh, wanderers as green as three-day old trout. Leav'em be an' less gettouta this cold. With the captain's preferences clear, the junior guard shrugs and says, Well, on your way. Most folks go to the Luskan Arms, which is over wonder, and he points generally into the town. Good luck and don't die too quickly! he says with a smile as his back is already turning to you so he can re-enter his slightly warmer hut. Feeling none the wiser about chwingas or potatoes, you head into town and within a few steps of the wall you come across a female human merchant whose do sled is overloaded with fresh knuclehead trout. Aye, you, yes, you lot, particularly you, big guy, she shouts with a gravelly voice while looking at Dvu. Ye want to help me move this delivery to Bryn Shander? There's a reward for ye if you help me. She looks strong and the dogs appear fine, it is just that there are too many fish for the sled, so they keep falling off. The lantern light remains yellow. 

Ophelia's eyes come into focus briefly, and she appears to look on bemused as her companions ask the Targos guards about the Chwingas.

"The secrets that Lady Winter holds to her frozen breast," Ophelia murmurs softly, singsong, "may arc, arc far beyond the ken of these good townsfolk, as the source of a glacier may range far from its lakeside edge.  Even the littlest secrets.  The lantern-revealed elemental spirits we seek."

She taps a finger to her wind-chilled lips.  "Or not.  And yet, the guards may yet know of frigid death stalking their streets, may they not?"  Suddenly her voice becomes clearer and she projects so the guards can hear her clearly over the wind and blowing snow.

"We heard tell of a shipbuilder here.  Human, slain with a knife of ice in the heart.  Is this true?  And why might a wintry killer mark them for murder?"

The young white-haired human woman gives the fishmonger a surprised look, and then she looks up at the massive goliath guide. "You decide about that I guess but I hope you stay with us until we have found that chwinga." She says quietly, looking quite skeptical. Her own focus was on the current mission and she hadn't even considered either trying to catch murderers or delivering fish, instead hoping to continue her tour of Targos town while watching for green light.

Marva mutters under her breath, “Thanks for your gracious help for these wanderers…” and starts to head into town. When the fishmonger addresses them, she looks around the group, and says, “We really have no idea where our chwingas are, so it matters little which way we go. We could go on to Bremen and then continue a methodical tour of the towns. Or we could follow fate and this fishmonger. Perhaps asking more locals if they’ve had any sightings would help us. And it doesn’t hurt to ask about the murders at the same time.”

She turns to the merchant, “We’ve just come from there, so it’s hard to envision retracing that freezing trek. But perhaps we could trade in more than gold. Do you know of any small elemental creatures frolicking about? Or do you know anything about the shipbuilder who was recently murdered?” (Persuasion: 11)

Dvu nods and smiles as the others answer at the gate, waiting to hear their response.  He says “Luskan inn sounds good” quietly under his breath.  Apparently they say enough to satisfy the tired and grumpy guard, so they start to march forward into town.  He looks on with curiosity as the woman with the knucklehead trout approaches them about turning around and marching back to Bryn Shander with a load of fish.  Delivering fish sounds much less exciting than hunting elusive Chwingas or solving ice knife murders.  

“Ma’am we just arrived, we’re headed over to the Luskan Arms.  We have other business here, maybe we can help you on the next load.”  He pauses, for a moment.  “How much of a reward are we talking about?”  The Goliath crosses his arms, looking toward the center of town then turning back to the woman, to make sure before they dismiss her, not wanting to burn any fish bridges.  

Almost in unison, Olfin also asks the female human merchant "How much you willing to pay?" He thinks about how light his coin purse has gotten and how cold the nights would be. 

Month: Hammer, Day: VII, Time: 1100

Ophelia, Upon hearing your question, the captain of the guard returns with a scowl and shoves the nicer guard away from you. Aye, deaths I have heard of since who hasn't heard of 'em. About this murder you say, it was Alvin the shipbuilder who was found just after the new moon with a dagger of ice stuck in him. As far as shipbuilders go, he did good work but as a person, well, les' just say no great loss. If ye be looking for stories oabout Alvin's death, Luskan Arms is as good or bad a place as any. We are not investigating the death so got nothin' more ta say 'bout the matter." He gives you a glare before stomping away, and this time slams the door shut for good measure.

Marva, the fishmonger looks at you funny and says, "Well, now isn't that cute - chasing tales for children and old maids. Maybe ye aren't the group for such a job. But she smiles when addressing Dvu and Olfin and squeezes the arm of the goliath, "Just a wee bit o'gold since that is all me purse can handle. Come see me in five days when I make my next run while I find someone for this run. Me name is Gali and you can find me on the ice or at Triglio, the general merchant." She continues brushing Dvu's arm, so you get the feeling that she just started the negotiations for your eventual assistance with fish or is fishing for a date with the big guy. 

You leave the fishmonger and gate to head to the Luskan Arms. The building is nearly two hundred years old and shows its age. The inn has sturdy thick walls but rotten floorboards, and drafts come up into the common room from the cellar. You can hear the occasional rat running through the walls, but none are obvious in the common room. There are a few dingy tables and chairs, as well as a mannequin in a corner that has been used as the target for a dagger-throwing competition. The proprietor is a quiet, balding, slow-moving, depressed human who goes by the name of Owenn. There are only a few degenerates in here with eyes red and shoulders slumped around small empty glasses, since the limited light outside means it is prime working time before the cold night resumes after sunfall at 1400. The only real decoration on the wall is a tattered map of the town. You can recognize that you are in the lower right corner of the town, 7th dock from the right, by the red X over one of the buildings. The lantern light remains yellow. 

Ophelia, Upon hearing your question, the captain of the guard returns with a scowl and shoves the nicer guard away from you. Aye, deaths I have heard of since who hasn't heard of 'em. About this murder you say, it was Alvin the shipbuilder who was found just after the new moon with a dagger of ice stuck in him. As far as shipbuilders go, he did good work but as a person, well, les' just say no great loss. If ye be looking for stories oabout Alvin's death, Luskan Arms is as good or bad a place as any. We are not investigating the death so got nothin' more ta say 'bout the matter." He gives you a glare before stomping away, and this time slams the door shut for good measure.

After the guard captain is done glaring at and lecturing her, Ophelia's lavender eyes continue gazing slightly upward with a distant look.  She murmurs.

"Skilled the shipwright in a lake town
Yet hated such that none ask why
A blade of ice has cut him down
And at his passing, not a sigh"

Seemingly lost in thought, Ophelia follows the others to the Luskan Arms.

As they were approaching the Luskan Arms, Marva explained an idea she had on the cold trek from Bryn Shander to Targos: “We haven’t had any luck just running across these chwingas. They are supposed to be attracted to civilization, right? I’m going to try to get something to lure them. But maybe you all could try to find out more about this Alvin fellow.”

Once they enter the tavern, she steps carefully across the room to approach the proprietor. “Excuse me, sir, I know this might be an odd request, but could I buy a handful of utensils from you? Say, maybe three forks or spoons? Also, could you point me in the direction of a general store or somewhere I could buy a simple fishing pole?”

“Pole, string, hunting trap, that’s all a fishing pole is.” Drift scratches his chin with a near frozen finger. “I can make you that, don’t need to spend no coin.”

It is with some relief the young white-haired woman hears the offer of a fish delivery being turned down, for now. Luskan arms sounded like a good place to get warm and have some tea before making the tour of Targos. As the dragonborn scholar suggests making more inquieries into the death of Alvin the shipbuilder she merely nods and joins her at the bar, speaking with the proprietor as Marva's business have been dealt with. Ellora was still not convinced it was their business poking around in that matter but now her curiosity was piqued and she had nothing better to do while warming herself up.

"A cup of tea thanks." She says with a friendly smile to the balding proprietor, bringing up her purse after placing the lantern on the bar counter in front of her. "Also, we heard there was a murder here, Alvin the shipbuilder had a dagger of ice stuck into him. Do you know anything about that, who could have done such a thing, and why? Was there any reason for anyone to want him dead?" She asks with a friendly and curious smile.