Max looks eagerly at everyone to make sure they experienced what he just did. In an effort to be helpful for the woman’s question, he says, “This is my friend named Thirteen!”
Virjor replies, "Oh my goodness, well then, this is seperditdedous indeed! I thought we would need to scour the buildings to find the town's notability, and our information indicated Speaker Duvessa Shane was a man. No matter! I'm glad that we have been afforded the import of an immediate meeting with the town's leader!" and takes a deep graceful bow.
Rolls a perception check to make sure this woman isn't lying about who she is:14
"Our mission is to discover the the cause of the never ending winter suffered by your little town, perhaps you can provide some valuable insight?"
He gestures to his travel companions "We are uniquely qualified to carry out this investigation. After all, no one person can whistle a symphony, it takes a whole orchestra." Virjor is very pleased with himself "Oh, that's good, note that down Carric!"
Perking up at Max's introduction of Thirteen to the woman's inquiry she looks up at her friend with a big grin, "Yes! Isn't he brilliant??" Hopping a little.
At Virjor's response to the woman, she pauses as her smile fades a second curiously whispering very low to herself, "seper...ditde..dous? se..perdit..de..dous? se perdit de deux?" then she looks up at Virjor who has already moved on from the word with other phrases. Yes, she was very lost at the moment, or could it be a surprising place to find oneself? Yes, that must be it and her smile returns.
As her mind rejoins the conversation, she hears his Virjor-ism and commits it to memory, just in case Carric doesn't write it down, then back to the potentially Duvessa Shane. Pulling her newly acquired warm clothing tighter to her with a little shiver.
Thirteen arrives and takes one step forward before scanning the area around him. He's introduced by Max and Eerie but pays no mind whilst he looks around for any danger.
He finally turns to Duvessa and casually draws Shatterpike from it's scabbard. "Point us towards the Winter Maker, we have a job to do for this cursed elf," nodding towards Virjor.
Carric raises an eyebrow at the directive from Virjor. "Sadly I don't have a writing implement," the monk says. "But I will do my best to remember your wisest and most clever words."
He looks to their "host" and clears his throat. "And our halfling friend is Max, the wise gnome is Eerie, and..." Carric pauses, rubbing his chin for a moment. "Oh yes, his name is Virjor."
(Virjor – it’s normally Insight for detecting lies & intent so your roll is actually 2 lower. You see no sign that she is lying)
“Very serendipitous indeed, sir. Auril’s curse has had us locked in eternal winter for nearly two years now. Ferocious blizzards make the mountain pass through the Spine of the World exceedingly treacherous, and the sun no longer appears above the mountains, not even in what should be the height of summer. A shimmering aurora weaves across the sky each night and is said to be her doing—a potent spell that keeps the sun at bay”
During this monologue, Duvessa has taken on a slightly mournful look, her initial confidence sapped by the subject of the curse striking this land.
She snaps back to the town hall: “Oh it’s not just our town. All of Ten Towns is afflicted, and the region beyond as well. As far as we can tell, all the way east to the Reghed Glacier, south to the Spine of the World and to the Sea of Moving Ice in the North and West”
The Speaker indicates two large maps on one wall of the town hall, one detailing the layout of Bryn Shander and another showing the wider area, with the towns’ relative positions indicated (see below).
“As for leads? We suspect Auril resides somewhere in the frozen sea but know little more; you might be best served asking around, as Ten Towns is home to hardy folk who survive by exploring and scouring the land.
You might also be interested in our most recent arrivals, excluding your good selves. A group of four wizard types who arrived through the same teleportation circle about a tenday or two ago. They asked some questions about arcane happenings in the region, a bit of local history, then after one night at the Northlook inn they seemed to have a falling out and left town in different directions”
Virjor gently puts a hand on thirteen's sword to lower it from Duvessa's face with a smile...
"Thank you for the information Duvessa. It seems that a visit to the Northlook Inn is on the cards to enquire what happened to this other party...I do hope it is an appropriately proper establishment, but I fear my expectations may be a little high." He bends down and rubs some dirt on his face...immediately regrets it and quickly wipes it off again.
"My dear Duvessa, I see that the route to the Inn takes us past something called BlackIron Blades, is this a blacksmiths that may be worth a visit?"
"Before we leave, Carric - I bestow upon you some writing apparatus. Never let it be said Virjor doesn't provide for his associates!" Virjor digs an ink pen and sheet of paper from his backpack and hands it to Carric with great formality*, what a noble gesture he nods to himself, I truly am of the people.
*Carric please add an ink pen & paper to your inventory and I'll remove from mine*
Eerie looks over with a grin as Carric is provided with Pen and Parchment to fulfill future 'duties' and tucks her lips in to hide the expression as Virjor turns back within view of her. She takes herself closer and stares up at the map on the wall noting that they presently find themselves at the middle of the town. Northlook being just inside the North Gate. Duvessa spoke of the place as a small town, but it seemed magnificent. So many shops to peek into and alleys to wander..later though. Job to do. Focus! Her eyes alight as if some sort of internal dialogue was progressing.
After a brief time at the map, she moves back over to the group and looks up at the others waiting to see what they do next.
“Aye, the Blackiron Blades is a smithy. They’re normally well stocked but, ah, having a supply issuer right now. In fact, you might be able to help with that”
Duvessa pulls an expression that seems halfway between a shrug and a plea, raising both hands slightly: “Three dwarves of Clan Battlehammer are currently recuperating at The Northlook, they were bringing iron ingots to the Blackiron Blades when they were set upon. Had to leave their payload in the snow. I’m sure if you speak to them, they can offer a reward for recovering their cargo and a degree of their dignity. They might even have information about the Frostmaiden if you’re lucky, or at least those wizards that were here”
She starts to speak and then stops herself, then tries again with a deadly serious expression: “There’s something you need to know about Ten Towns. In the time that we have been under the Frostmaiden’s curse we have had to find any way we can to survive. For the last year, each of the towns has found a way to appease her by way of a sacrifice every new moon. Some towns forsake a day’s worth of food, others give up warmth – fires and the like – for the whole night. We…do what it takes to survive, but we would stop in a heartbeat if this curse could be lifted”
"Duvessa, we will do all we can to help, but are you saying that the people may be less than friendly to outsiders in their attempts to supplement what they need to sacrifice or survive?" Eerie speaks up with concern written all over her face.
Eerie dismisses her question to Duvessa and nods at Thirteen. "Yes, I think North to the Blackiron Blades then Northlook seems best." She looks to the group for agreement.
After Eerie is finished, Max also looks up at the maps (sometimes standing on his toes to get a little better look). He hides his excitement at a brand new city to explore, but then cannot hide it when hearing about the iron that the Battlehamers would need recovered. "Maybe we would want to help those poor dwarves?" Max asks his companions. "I love finding lost things! Though some people misunderstand that and give me a bad reputation for walking off with things that don't belong to me.." He shrugs and indicates that he is ready to head over to the Inn. Looking at his shortsword, he also says, "I wonder if the blacksmith would have a rapier for me; I feel like I am becoming quite the swashbuckler; just like in some of my favorite stories!"
Eerie leans into Max and whispers. "I know. Some people just leave their stuff all over the place. How are we to know they don't want it touched?" Thinking about all the time she'd opened a book or picked up a little figurine as a younger gnome and gotten reprimanded for it by others.
Looking up at Virjor, "We can help the Battlehammers too, right? They probably know something that could help."
Duvessa’s expression is a mixture of shock and reassurance as Eerie asks about the treatment of outsiders: “Oh no, your strangeness won’t be an issue. Everyone is careful to manage their own supplies, so as long as you do not steal or threaten their own means of survival then you will be left in peace"
As Thirteen comments on everyone having a price to pay, her look darkens: “Yes, that sadly is true. I will be honest with you, our own sacrifice in Bryn Shander is a little more…literal. Every full moon we hold a lottery, with one citizen selected to be sent out into the wilderness without protection of any kind. Their brave sacrifice mollifies the Frostmaiden enough to allow us to survive another month”
A tear seems to be forming in her eye as she recounts this, her hand trembling as she wipes it away.
Hearing the group’s discussion about next steps, she smiles slightly “The Battlehammers would indeed appreciate your help, and recovering the iron may even earn you favour at Blackiron Blades.
Scramsax, who runs the Northlook, used to be an adventurer – he’ll likely trade a rumour or two for a recent tale of excitement. You look like you have one or two”
Virjor nods, but in truth his mind is wondering on what kind of magic could be using human sacrifices? Certainly nothing he has worked with before, it may be very powerful - if a bit distasteful. He strides out in the cold...and immediately squeaks: He tries to wrap himself even tighter in his robes
"Yes Eerie, I think helping the Battlehammers may prove fruitful for collecting information, but if it proves to be an onerous task, we must be prepared to focus on the main mission."
He turns to Duvessa, and with a nimble bow; "Very well Duvessa, we thank you for your guidance. We will endeavour to find the source of this intriguing magic." And with this he turns to everyone else: "Come along, my loyal team!"
He strides out in the cold...and immediately squeaks: "By the gods! It's frigid out here! Quickly, let us navigate to the Blackiron Blades as swiftly as possible." He wraps himself tighter in his robes, and stamps his feet impatiently.
Carric looks at the pen and paper for a moment, then shrugs and stows it in his pack.
Before they depart, Carric observes aloud, to everyone essentially, "What do these sacrifices bring you if you remain locked in endless winter?"
He nods in agreement with the suggestion to seek out the dwarves. "It would be good to begin our time with a helpful deed," he says. "All the better if it brings us information and goodwill."
As they move outside, the monk seems unperturbed by the cold, but he does lower his facemask to help keep warm.
Eyes widening as Duvessa describes the lottery of sacrifices made and an urgency sets in. She tightens her lips against speaking out at this occurrence seeing the regret on Duvessa's face and feeling that they wouldn't do so if anything else could be done. They were that something else.
Hearing the Elf express annoyance at the cold, she wished she'd have thought of at least a torch to warm them. The Wizard didn't seem to have any helpful cantrips either or would have used them. Eerie allows herself to fall in behind Virjor, subtly using him as a shield for the cold but outwardly following loyally their leader. (Those knowing her well might suspect the former) Her speed of movement clear that she shared Virjor's wish to be out of the cold quickly.
As they travel along, Eerie gazes at the back of Virjor's gear and slowly a warm scene appears in front of her of a warm sun beaming down on a grassy meadow. She stares at it as if willing herself to climb inside it then shrugs and dismisses it with a wave of her hand.
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Max looks eagerly at everyone to make sure they experienced what he just did. In an effort to be helpful for the woman’s question, he says, “This is my friend named Thirteen!”
Virjor replies, "Oh my goodness, well then, this is seperditdedous indeed! I thought we would need to scour the buildings to find the town's notability, and our information indicated Speaker Duvessa Shane was a man. No matter! I'm glad that we have been afforded the import of an immediate meeting with the town's leader!" and takes a deep graceful bow.
Rolls a perception check to make sure this woman isn't lying about who she is: 14
"Our mission is to discover the the cause of the never ending winter suffered by your little town, perhaps you can provide some valuable insight?"
He gestures to his travel companions "We are uniquely qualified to carry out this investigation. After all, no one person can whistle a symphony, it takes a whole orchestra." Virjor is very pleased with himself "Oh, that's good, note that down Carric!"
Perking up at Max's introduction of Thirteen to the woman's inquiry she looks up at her friend with a big grin, "Yes! Isn't he brilliant??" Hopping a little.
At Virjor's response to the woman, she pauses as her smile fades a second curiously whispering very low to herself, "seper...ditde..dous? se..perdit..de..dous? se perdit de deux?" then she looks up at Virjor who has already moved on from the word with other phrases. Yes, she was very lost at the moment, or could it be a surprising place to find oneself? Yes, that must be it and her smile returns.
As her mind rejoins the conversation, she hears his Virjor-ism and commits it to memory, just in case Carric doesn't write it down, then back to the potentially Duvessa Shane. Pulling her newly acquired warm clothing tighter to her with a little shiver.
Thirteen arrives and takes one step forward before scanning the area around him. He's introduced by Max and Eerie but pays no mind whilst he looks around for any danger.
He finally turns to Duvessa and casually draws Shatterpike from it's scabbard. "Point us towards the Winter Maker, we have a job to do for this cursed elf," nodding towards Virjor.
Carric raises an eyebrow at the directive from Virjor. "Sadly I don't have a writing implement," the monk says. "But I will do my best to remember your wisest and most clever words."
He looks to their "host" and clears his throat. "And our halfling friend is Max, the wise gnome is Eerie, and..." Carric pauses, rubbing his chin for a moment. "Oh yes, his name is Virjor."
(Virjor – it’s normally Insight for detecting lies & intent so your roll is actually 2 lower. You see no sign that she is lying)
“Very serendipitous indeed, sir. Auril’s curse has had us locked in eternal winter for nearly two years now. Ferocious blizzards make the mountain pass through the Spine of the World exceedingly treacherous, and the sun no longer appears above the mountains, not even in what should be the height of summer. A shimmering aurora weaves across the sky each night and is said to be her doing—a potent spell that keeps the sun at bay”
During this monologue, Duvessa has taken on a slightly mournful look, her initial confidence sapped by the subject of the curse striking this land.
She snaps back to the town hall: “Oh it’s not just our town. All of Ten Towns is afflicted, and the region beyond as well. As far as we can tell, all the way east to the Reghed Glacier, south to the Spine of the World and to the Sea of Moving Ice in the North and West”
The Speaker indicates two large maps on one wall of the town hall, one detailing the layout of Bryn Shander and another showing the wider area, with the towns’ relative positions indicated (see below).
“As for leads? We suspect Auril resides somewhere in the frozen sea but know little more; you might be best served asking around, as Ten Towns is home to hardy folk who survive by exploring and scouring the land.
You might also be interested in our most recent arrivals, excluding your good selves. A group of four wizard types who arrived through the same teleportation circle about a tenday or two ago. They asked some questions about arcane happenings in the region, a bit of local history, then after one night at the Northlook inn they seemed to have a falling out and left town in different directions”
Virjor gently puts a hand on thirteen's sword to lower it from Duvessa's face with a smile...
"Thank you for the information Duvessa. It seems that a visit to the Northlook Inn is on the cards to enquire what happened to this other party...I do hope it is an appropriately proper establishment, but I fear my expectations may be a little high." He bends down and rubs some dirt on his face...immediately regrets it and quickly wipes it off again.
"My dear Duvessa, I see that the route to the Inn takes us past something called BlackIron Blades, is this a blacksmiths that may be worth a visit?"
"Before we leave, Carric - I bestow upon you some writing apparatus. Never let it be said Virjor doesn't provide for his associates!" Virjor digs an ink pen and sheet of paper from his backpack and hands it to Carric with great formality*, what a noble gesture he nods to himself, I truly am of the people.
*Carric please add an ink pen & paper to your inventory and I'll remove from mine*
Eerie looks over with a grin as Carric is provided with Pen and Parchment to fulfill future 'duties' and tucks her lips in to hide the expression as Virjor turns back within view of her. She takes herself closer and stares up at the map on the wall noting that they presently find themselves at the middle of the town. Northlook being just inside the North Gate. Duvessa spoke of the place as a small town, but it seemed magnificent. So many shops to peek into and alleys to wander..later though. Job to do. Focus! Her eyes alight as if some sort of internal dialogue was progressing.
After a brief time at the map, she moves back over to the group and looks up at the others waiting to see what they do next.
“Aye, the Blackiron Blades is a smithy. They’re normally well stocked but, ah, having a supply issuer right now. In fact, you might be able to help with that”
Duvessa pulls an expression that seems halfway between a shrug and a plea, raising both hands slightly: “Three dwarves of Clan Battlehammer are currently recuperating at The Northlook, they were bringing iron ingots to the Blackiron Blades when they were set upon. Had to leave their payload in the snow. I’m sure if you speak to them, they can offer a reward for recovering their cargo and a degree of their dignity. They might even have information about the Frostmaiden if you’re lucky, or at least those wizards that were here”
She starts to speak and then stops herself, then tries again with a deadly serious expression: “There’s something you need to know about Ten Towns. In the time that we have been under the Frostmaiden’s curse we have had to find any way we can to survive. For the last year, each of the towns has found a way to appease her by way of a sacrifice every new moon. Some towns forsake a day’s worth of food, others give up warmth – fires and the like – for the whole night. We…do what it takes to survive, but we would stop in a heartbeat if this curse could be lifted”
"Duvessa, we will do all we can to help, but are you saying that the people may be less than friendly to outsiders in their attempts to supplement what they need to sacrifice or survive?" Eerie speaks up with concern written all over her face.
"Everyone has a price to pay Duvessa," says Thirteen in a low voice whilst carefully examining his blade.
He nods. "We thank you for the information." And turning to the others, "So shall we head to Northlook? And stop by at Blackiron Blades on the way?"
Eerie dismisses her question to Duvessa and nods at Thirteen. "Yes, I think North to the Blackiron Blades then Northlook seems best." She looks to the group for agreement.
After Eerie is finished, Max also looks up at the maps (sometimes standing on his toes to get a little better look). He hides his excitement at a brand new city to explore, but then cannot hide it when hearing about the iron that the Battlehamers would need recovered. "Maybe we would want to help those poor dwarves?" Max asks his companions. "I love finding lost things! Though some people misunderstand that and give me a bad reputation for walking off with things that don't belong to me.." He shrugs and indicates that he is ready to head over to the Inn. Looking at his shortsword, he also says, "I wonder if the blacksmith would have a rapier for me; I feel like I am becoming quite the swashbuckler; just like in some of my favorite stories!"
Eerie leans into Max and whispers. "I know. Some people just leave their stuff all over the place. How are we to know they don't want it touched?" Thinking about all the time she'd opened a book or picked up a little figurine as a younger gnome and gotten reprimanded for it by others.
Looking up at Virjor, "We can help the Battlehammers too, right? They probably know something that could help."
Duvessa’s expression is a mixture of shock and reassurance as Eerie asks about the treatment of outsiders: “Oh no, your strangeness won’t be an issue. Everyone is careful to manage their own supplies, so as long as you do not steal or threaten their own means of survival then you will be left in peace"
As Thirteen comments on everyone having a price to pay, her look darkens: “Yes, that sadly is true. I will be honest with you, our own sacrifice in Bryn Shander is a little more…literal. Every full moon we hold a lottery, with one citizen selected to be sent out into the wilderness without protection of any kind. Their brave sacrifice mollifies the Frostmaiden enough to allow us to survive another month”
A tear seems to be forming in her eye as she recounts this, her hand trembling as she wipes it away.
Hearing the group’s discussion about next steps, she smiles slightly “The Battlehammers would indeed appreciate your help, and recovering the iron may even earn you favour at Blackiron Blades.
Scramsax, who runs the Northlook, used to be an adventurer – he’ll likely trade a rumour or two for a recent tale of excitement. You look like you have one or two”
Virjor nods, but in truth his mind is wondering on what kind of magic could be using human sacrifices? Certainly nothing he has worked with before, it may be very powerful - if a bit distasteful. He strides out in the cold...and immediately squeaks: He tries to wrap himself even tighter in his robes
"Yes Eerie, I think helping the Battlehammers may prove fruitful for collecting information, but if it proves to be an onerous task, we must be prepared to focus on the main mission."
He turns to Duvessa, and with a nimble bow; "Very well Duvessa, we thank you for your guidance. We will endeavour to find the source of this intriguing magic." And with this he turns to everyone else: "Come along, my loyal team!"
He strides out in the cold...and immediately squeaks: "By the gods! It's frigid out here! Quickly, let us navigate to the Blackiron Blades as swiftly as possible." He wraps himself tighter in his robes, and stamps his feet impatiently.
Carric looks at the pen and paper for a moment, then shrugs and stows it in his pack.
Before they depart, Carric observes aloud, to everyone essentially, "What do these sacrifices bring you if you remain locked in endless winter?"
He nods in agreement with the suggestion to seek out the dwarves. "It would be good to begin our time with a helpful deed," he says. "All the better if it brings us information and goodwill."
As they move outside, the monk seems unperturbed by the cold, but he does lower his facemask to help keep warm.
Eyes widening as Duvessa describes the lottery of sacrifices made and an urgency sets in. She tightens her lips against speaking out at this occurrence seeing the regret on Duvessa's face and feeling that they wouldn't do so if anything else could be done. They were that something else.
Hearing the Elf express annoyance at the cold, she wished she'd have thought of at least a torch to warm them. The Wizard didn't seem to have any helpful cantrips either or would have used them. Eerie allows herself to fall in behind Virjor, subtly using him as a shield for the cold but outwardly following loyally their leader. (Those knowing her well might suspect the former) Her speed of movement clear that she shared Virjor's wish to be out of the cold quickly.
Max does not hide his shock at the mention of sacrifices. Seeing the group head out, he steadies himself to follow the party.
As they travel along, Eerie gazes at the back of Virjor's gear and slowly a warm scene appears in front of her of a warm sun beaming down on a grassy meadow. She stares at it as if willing herself to climb inside it then shrugs and dismisses it with a wave of her hand.