[PF] Reign of Winter: Snows of Summer IC

[North_Ranger]

It is said that time stands still in the small villages of the world. Whether they lie in patriotic Andoran, devil-ruled Cheliax or in some other corner of the civilized world, one day in such a town is rarely different from the other, or one year from another. Such is also the case for Heldren, a small, sleepy community of farmers and traders in southern Taldor. Far removed from the byzantine scheming of glorious Oppara, the people of Heldren live their life as they have for centuries, their daily lives filled with concerns not unlike those of generations that preceded them. Even the town's clocktower, once a marvel of Qadiran design and machinery, has become a common time-keeper for the town, one that has tolled as long as anyone can remember.

It was at the seventh tolling of said bell on one warm and sunny day in mid-Erastus, however, that marked a striking interruption to the humdrum life of Heldren. In the Silver Stoat, the finest (and the only) tavern in town, innkeeper Menander Garimos hummed to himself as he set down two of the large buckets of crisp, clean water he had just pulled from the village well. Yawning widely, the balding boulder of a man looked at some of the previous night's guests, still sleeping by the fireplace. Ever the jovial and kind-hearted man, Menander never denied a traveller a place to sleep in the common room, since the town had no proper inn.

Of course, said guests were also told to be up and on their way early in the morning. Beforehand, of course.

Clearly, someone had not been listening.

Picking up one of the buckets, Menander walked over to the snoring travellers, and unceremoniously tossed the bucketful of cold water on top of them.

"Rise and shine, ladies and gentlemen! It's the seventh bell, and it's time to get up and get out!" he called out, watching the rudely awakened guests. "At least until I've cleaned up the floor. Now shoo, unless you want me to mop you up along with yesterday's spillings."

"Don't forget to tell them of breakfast!" his wife Kale called out from the kitchen.

"No, dear, I won't!" Menander called back before putting down the bucket. "If you want breakfast, come back in an hour. Porridge, bread and coffee will be up then."

If you slept in at the Stoat, this is your wake-up call. If you were up early or slept somewhere else in Heldren, let's hear it. Other than that... Game on :smallbiggrin:

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

As usual, Avaris had stayed up late in the barn, in the small corner that Menander had allowed him to set up his laboratory. A night owl, Avaris spend hours with a cup of his herbal tea in hand, studying the scrolls he had received that same morning. When he had retired for the (late) night, his sleep had been full of pleasant dreams.

The water was not nearly as pleasant.

Avaris almost goes from vertical to horizontal in one motion. His hands flt frantically to his hair and his face.

"Sulfur and pyrh, goodman! Do you always treat your guests with such gentleness? Now my hair is all messed up. "

Avaris uses some of the same water to wash, shave and carefully brush his long hair, applying some splashes of mysterious substances to them.

"I will be back in an hour for bread and porridge, some honey if you have it"

Avaris then strolls out for a morning walk.

[Desril]

Sylvia

Having gotten drunk to the point of collapsing the night before, as is usually the case when no more interesting opportunity presents itself, Sylvia finds herself being rudely awoken with a splash of cold water early in the morning. "Hey now, that's no way to treat a paying customer!"

Despite her protest, she grins groggily, being experienced in far less pleasant ways to be woken up and freshens up for a minute before giving a cheery good morning to her fellow tavern-mates and trying to remember their names as they vacate the building.

[Mithric Gunn]

The Android Called Foxy

One hundred thousand, five hundred ninety two sheep. One hundred thousand, five hundred ninety three sheep. One hundred thous..

Well, guess it is time to wake up.

The lithe figure gets up, brushing droplets off her clothes as she shakes the water out of her red hair. She turns to Sylvia, "This 'sleep' thing is very boring. I don't think I shall try it again."

She picks up Hyjax, and walks outside, sitting with the fox on her lap, murmuring soflty to it as she pets him. She does this for an hour exactly, then walks back into the inn to eat.

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

Unlike the others who had decided to sleep - or tried to sleep - at the Stoat's floor, the Ulfen man called Jarnulf was not there when Menander arrived with his rude awakening. He had arrived late the previous night into Heldren, and had chosen to sleep - or try to - when the scythe-wielding pale woman was still in her cups. He didn't much care for such company, nor for most people he had met since he had departed from Wispil.

But, a summons was a summons, and it had been years since he had last gotten news from Southmoor. So he had travelled here to meet his cousin, and was waiting outside the inn, sitting at the base of when the wet wake-up call came. Looking up from his blade and whetstone, he looked for Nathali.

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris walks out to find the taciturn Ulfen with which he had traveled into Heldren sharpening a rather imposing blade. What had been his name? Jarnulf wasn't it? He did not seem to like company, but politeness was a virtue.

"Good morning to you, Master Jarnulf. That is a rather big blade you are carrying. If you need sharpening oil, I have just the thing for you. But perhaps sharpening it so publicly could draw attention you might not want?"

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

The whetstone's steady shhnk-shhnk stopped when the Ulfen hunter heard the alchemist's greeting. With almost bored eyes, the young man looked up and shrugged.

"No one's complained yet", he answered but put his whetstone aside and shoved the old blade back in its battered scabbard. "Besides, I don't intend to stay here any longer than it's needed to see cousin Nathali. Speaking of whom, have you seen her this morning? Her and that sneaky little pet of hers?"

[Mithric Gunn]

Foxy


The pale-skinned, athletic woman with the red hair looks up briefly, glancing at the two humans. Her tone and expression seem oddly calm and straightforward.
"It seems to me that such a big blade would also ward away the very attention you speak of. It seems a very elegant form of discouragement. I would have to threaten people with Hyjax here," she holds up the small disgruntled-looking fox in her lap, "but he's apparently not very imposing. I normally have to kill people who try to hurt me. Perhaps if I carry around a large blade they might leave me alone."

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris is taken back with the words of Foxy. He unconciously steps back.

"People try to kill you often, madam? That would be... worrying. And no, Master Jarnulf, I have not seen your cousin. I think. How does she look like?"

What is this, some kind of joke? Who are these people?

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

People often described Nathali as a happy-go-lucky person. This was considered to be true because Nathali could almost always be found with a grin planted firmly on her face, and it was also true that she always tried to make the best of bad situations and to think well of those around her. Say what you would of Nathali Sarrasoka, Gunhagen's only daughter, dark clouds and gloom had about as much effect on her as water off a duck's back.

Unfortunately, Nathali Sarrasoka was not feeling very happy right now. Nor was she going anywhere or thinking herself particularly lucky.

This was because Nathali was LATE. Very late. If a giant meteor fell out of the sky and squashed her flat, her parents would have had to put 'the late Nathali Sarrasoka' on her gravestone and it would have been absolutely true.

What had started off as one of Balthasar's regular rabbit-hunting escapades had very nearly ended in blood and fire and resting in pieces in a wolf's craw, if not for the intervention of her latest travelling companion. That had set them back nearly half a day. And there had been the incident in the other town when she and Balthasar had both agreed that the man making personal comments about Hikaru ought to have his ankles thoroughly chewed. That hadn't been pleasant and it'd been another half a day wasted trying to explain things to the authorities before they'd managed to scram out of there.

Which in turn meant that she hadn't made it to Heldren the night before, as planned, but only just a few minutes ago. For all she knew, cousin Jarnulf could have missed her and left town, and then what on earth was she going to tell her parents and the rest of the family?

Panting slightly as she bends over and tries to catch her breath, Nathali sweeps stray strands of hair that have escaped from her braids out of her eyes, then nudges Balthasar out of her cloak pocket. "Go find Jarnulf first, would you? S'pposed to be at some inn what's named after you when your coat turns colour, hm? Man with a big sword. You can find that, right?"

Watching as her familiar speeds off down the village's main road - he wouldn't get lost, it was just a village, how hard could it be? - she turns to Hikaru and grins sheepishly. "Well, we're here. I'm off to find my cousin. I'm sure we'd have plenty to talk about over breakfast, so I might as well feed you too. Hungry?"

Balthasar

Perception check: (1d20+5)[10]

If Balthasar manages to find Jarnulf, he immediately runs towards the man and makes a flying leap onto the man's knees. If not, he avoids contact with the villagers and returns to Nathali.

[Miraqariftsky]

Miko Hikaru

A mound of metal and meat looms in Nathali's wake. Beneath the skirt of scale mail and lamellar leather, a set of overlarge chicken legs scrunches through the snow. They carry her gracefully, as if the warrior were no heavier than a bird of prey. Behind her, poking out from between her armoured kilt below and cuirass above, stretches a four-foot long, well-muscled tail, the first foot of which even has its own section of overlapping armour plate.

Several white wolf pelts are slung over Hikaru's left shoulder, a clacking sack of bones hanging from a black-taloned hand. The lean body of demonblooded scarlet scale flexes effortlessly beneath a Tian-made hauberk of fine scales on sturdy leather. In her right hand, held at rest, is the long staff of what a shrine maiden's naginata, its ceremonial tassel for now serving as peace bond, holding a wooden sheath in place over the slightly curving blade at the top. Upon her slightly stooped back rests a backpack well-stocked with wilderness gear.

Large, black lips twitch as Hikaru suppresses a sigh, amber eyes following the scampering weasel. Demon, freak, witch, dat ass... these and other terms of folly, the locals had levelled at me--- and her as well.

PFFT! Her? Aye, certainly, a stunning beauty. Why, then, did that man keep commenting on my ass? Bastard. I do charity, but not THAT kind of charity.

The weasel at his legs? I'd seen beheadings, disembowellings, burnings, quarterings, death by a thousand knife-pricks, death by a million ant bites... The weasel in the pants? That was new.

In their defense, none of those were lies, but it was the tone of their saying and their meaning behind their saying.

Hrrmph.

Wonder if these wolves'll fetch a good price in this town?

Presently, shaken out of her reverie by Nathali's grin, Hikaru simply and sincerely nods, then sets to follow her once more, the stoic set of herface contrasting starkly with the sudden snap and wag of her tail.

[North_Ranger]

Balthasar's Search
Jarnulf was not exactly hiding, but the new sights and smells of Heldren were enough to give the excitable ermine some pause. The smell of fresh meat from the butcher shop, the clucking of chickens in the backyards of houses, the wafting aromas of the apothecary and the tavern... still, Balthasar was on a mission, and had little trouble locating Jarnulf. After all, he smelled a little like Nathali.



Jarnulf

Avaris's question actually gave Jarnulf pause. What did his cousin actually look like? The last memories he had of her were more than a decade old, back when he still lived in Hjallarsnes at the border of Grungir Forest. He remembered a smiling girl at the cusp of womanhood, a year his senior and always telling her mother how she was a big girl now and would absolutely not want to wear her hair in pigtails any more, thank you very much. And the ermines at her feet, always getting her - and him - in trouble.

He shrugged. "I don't know, really. I don't it will be too hard to tell, though. It's not like there's that many Ulfen traipsing around the Taldan countrysiiihhaawhat the heck?" his bored monotone suddenly rose when all of a sudden a blur of brown fur and small paws jumped into his lap and started crawling up his chest. Taking the little creature by the scruff of its neck, he stared at it.

An ermine.

"Nevermind. I think she's somewhere around here", he said with a heavy sigh and let go of the ermine, letting it drop back into his lap. "That or someone doused my shirt with musk this morning." Looking all serious again, he looked at the little creature in his lap. "So, by what manner of pompous southern name does she call you?" he asked the ermine, as if he expected the excitable creature to start talking. "Melchior, maybe? Malachi? Nicodemus?"



GM Post

"You paid for the night, good lady and sir. And I told you I expected you to be up on your feet early so I can start cleaning up", Menander had replied to Avaris and Sylvia before unceremoniously picking up his mop and starting to clean the floor - right where they were sitting. The Stoat was no inn, true, but it was still better than sleeping under the stars.

The morning is bright and sunny as the last of the rudely awakened guests and newcomers approach the town square. The sun is already climbing up the sky, and the people of Heldren are already out and about.

Knowledge (Nature) 12:
Despite the beautiful day that the morning promises, there is something odd in the weather. It's barely been two and a half weeks since Midsummer, and usually it is a lot hotter in southern Taldor at this time of the year. Today, however, there is a slight chill in the wind, making the air feel a little cold to those accustomed to Taldan summers, and giving a small respite from the blazing summer to those who are not.

Knowledge (Nature) 15:
It can't be a cold wind all the way from Southern Range, though, blowing down from the snow-topped peaks and across the plains. The wind is blowing from the wrong direction: from the southwest, not east where the mountains lie, far across the horizon.

In fact, there seems to be quite a lot of people out and about, gathered at the doorway of the town's small Erastili temple. Usually farmers would be heading out to the fields, perhaps stopping by the statue of a matronly woman, simply called "The Lady", in the middle of town square. Instead, they seem to be trying to sneak a peek into the chapel, all the while droning amongst themselves like agitated bees. And not just farmers. There's also some of the town's women, including a crouched old woman leaning heavily on her staff, and some of the handful of non-human townsfolk as well. A dwarf with well-groomed hair and beard is conversing excitedly with a halfling man in a stained apron, and a gnome with a wild shock of electric blue hair is jumping up and down or peeking past the legs of the "longshanks", all the while trying to see what's happening inside. And as the guests of the Silver Stoat wait and watch, a lithe woman with the tell-tale all-green eyes and pointed ears of an elf rushes by them, muttering the barest of apologies as she makes her way towards the crowd.

[North_Ranger]

Map of Heldren:
http://cdn.obsidianportal.com/assets/227108/heldren.001.jpg

And a brief description what everything is, based on what you've seen so far.

1. A small stockade on top of a nearby hill, perhaps intended as a holdfast for the townspeople.
2. A smithy
3. A general store
4. The town hall, with a large clock tower that actually works efficiently. Those of you who've spent the night in town know that it strikes at every hour on the hour between six in the morning and six in the evening.
5. Willowbark Apothecary is the name of this two-story shop, with an ornate willow tree depicted in its hanging sign. This is where the elven woman came running from.
6. Goldtooth's Barber Shop and Surgery
7. The Silver Stoat
8. A livery stable, with a white-and-green banner hanging in the front. DC 12 Kn. (Local): The banner means that the stable's owner holds an official license for their stable to be a changing post for royal couriers.
9. The town square, with a large statue of a beautiful, matronly woman standing in the middle.
10. A simple, two-story house. Probably the home of some local bigwig, considering it's right across the street from the town hall.
11. The temple of Erastil, a small, two-story building with white-washed walls and the symbol of Old Deadeye presented prominently above the twin doors, along with smaller symbols for other gods flanking the hornbow-and-arrow: Abadar's golden key, Gozreh's leaf and dewdrop, Pharasma's spiral and even Sarenrae's sunburst angel.
12. A carpenter's shop, a wooden building with quaint, elaborate decorations carved along the windows, doors and the roof, making it look like the house has been decorated with gingerbread.
13. Sawmill
15. A small, one-story house, set apart from the rest of town.

I'm assuming that those who slept at the Stoat are milling about between #7 and #9, with Hikaru and Nathali coming from the west. The crowd's gathered in front of #11.

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris smiles at the grim warrior gets an ermine attack. And yet, Jarnulf does not mind and he in fact sees it as a sign from his cousin,

"You must be an interesting family, Master Jarnulf"

He shivers as a cold chill blows and unconciously he tightens his vest. But then he frowns and he seems to smell the air. In his hands, as if by magic, a stirring rod appears, twirling between Avaris' dextrous fingers as if it had a life of its own.

"That is strange. Cold wind at this time of the year? And from the wrong direction, too. And would you think that the crowd is too...crowded today? I think I will take a look. Care to join me? I am Avaris Voreinos, Collegius Ambicalis Experta, by the way. A pleasure"

Avaris will wait for a quick reply and then proceed to the crowd. With insticts honed by several years of illicit trading, he tries to pick what is happening.

Sense motive [roll0]
Local [roll1]

[maggie_mcknife]

Balthasar

Mildly pleased with himself, Balthasar chirps loudly to get Nathali's attention, then immediately gets distracted by the buttons on Jarnulf's person and begins searching his person for anything remotely edible and shiny that would be small enough to drag away for later, without regard for Jarnulf's privacy or personal space.

Perception: [roll0]

*****

Nathali

Taking 10 on Knowledge (Nature) for 16

"Lousy stinking weather," mutters Nathali sullenly, squinting up into the morning sunshine and wondering if she ought to pull her travelling cloak out of her backpack. But surely, it would look too ostentatious and overdone to be clad in furs in the middle of summer, weather or not? "Either the world's gone plumb crazy or some idiot student mage is busy trying to make the crops grow faster and got it all wrong..."

Spying Balthasar pawing a gruff-looking man just outside what must surely be the village tavern, Nathali gives a low whistle of nervousness. Balthasar had better gotten his person right. If not, that was a really big sword next to the man and having to explain herself first thing in a few town to an angry swordmaster would be a brand new record and a whole bucket of pain.

"Balthasar, get your furry bottom over here right this instant!" Then to the man, Nathali tries on a bright smile, wishing her braid was less messy from all the rushing. "Cousin Jarnulf?"

[Miraqariftsky]

Miko Hikaru

Hikaru pauses, a sudden chill barely felt
Still, who knows if there
Be deviltry about?
She snorts some
Breath into the air---
---Sure enough, her nostrils steam.

Bemused, and slightly disturbed
She strides over to Nathali
Taps her shoulder
Blows steam
Raises
Her brow
And arches
Her tail in question.

However, orienting on Nathali's heading
Hikaru simply pads after her,
Remaining respectful
Distance behind.

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

Also taking ten for a total value of 17 in Know. (Nature)

"Interesting, huh? Well that's certainly one way of... Hey! HEY! Stop it, you! Quit it! Bad weasel! Bad!" Jarnulf started again, only to be interrupted by the ermine as it suddenly started climbing all over him, and somehow managing to find its way down his collar. Jumping up, the Ulfen ranger cursed as he twisted and turned, trying to get the slippery little devil out from his clothes. Suddenly he felt a tug on his neck, and saw that the ermine was skittering away, holding his compass between its teeth. Maybe the little sneak had noticed the brass inlays on the compass's case and thought it pretty.

"Hold on to that thought, master Avaris! I need to get back my compass, and then make mittens out of that rat!"

Running after the damnable rodent, he stopped the second he saw the ermine disappear under the protective skirt of its mistress... one who called him by his name. Looking up, Jarnulf saw a face that was quite familiar still, even after thirteen years. He wondered if she saw the same; last they met, he had been a beardless boy of twelve, skinny and wild-haired. Now he had grown to manhood, his own long hair braided in an Ulfen warrior's style, while his chin and upper lip were covered with a thick, pale beard.

"Nathali?" he asked, looking the statuesque woman in the eye, feeling suddenly quite shabby in his worn travelling clothes. "Er det du, slekting?" he continued in Skald, even as he took a step back when he noticed the strange apparition for a bodyguard the Ulfen woman was travelling with. Strange armor, strange weapons, carrying pelts white as snow and... was that a tail? If he hadn't been certain that there was a strange chill in the air, he would have taken the sudden shiver up his spine as a sudden sense of danger from the strange, silent warrior woman.

Mangling some Swedish for Skald: "Is that you, kinswoman?" :smallwink: 'Cousin' and 'kusin' were a little too close for my tastes.



GM Post

Avaris:
The alchemist got the distinct feeling that this was a lynch mob, even though no one was carrying torches. There were some pitchforks, though. Hearing them talk, they sounded like local townspeople, at least judging by their accents. Except for the gnome. There was a strange lilting cadence to his incessant "Lemmesee! Lemmesee!" shrieks that sounded... oddly familiar. Much the same way his father spoke Taldane.

[Desril]

sylvia

"Well, sleep is boring unless you know how to have a good dream, so that's not surprising."

In response to Foxy's comment about carrying a big sword, "Discouragement like that just draws the attention of things that are harder to kill. It's better to do something flashy, like light something on fire with a glance."

Greatly amused by Balthasar's mischievous antics, Syvia delays for a little in figuring out the mob's purpose to laugh as the ermine flees with the compass. "I'm curious too, but I want to see how this turns out Mr. Avaris. If you find anything out before I get there though, let me know." Upon seeing Nathali she grins brightly, recognizing her from their encounter a few months prior, "Hey, long time no see! Remember me?"

Pleasantries aside, she can't resist the allure of a crowd for long and strains to hear about what's going on.


Sense Motive on the crowd [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

Sylvia:
The crowd seems to be waiting for someone inside. There is a sense of anticipation in the whispers and murmur, but also a sense of fear. Clearly, something has gotten the people of Heldren worried and agitated. Mothers hold their children closer, some of the farmers are checking they have their knives on their belts, and the dwarf and the halfling seem especially worried. The gnome... he just seems eager to see something new, apparently. At this distance, however, Sylvia cannot tell what they are actually talking about. Again, except for the gnome who keeps yelling "Lemmesee! Lemmesee!".

The crowd also seems to be giving some room at the very doorstep instead of slipping into the temple's entrance hall. Someone with authority has apparently told them to wait beyond the temple's twin doors.

[Miraqariftsky]

Miko Hikaru

Looking at he of whom Nathali
Had long spoken of meeting
Hikaru stops and stares
At the thick-thewed
Gold-bearded man

Her black smile
Breaks into a swift scowl
And then into a far-eyed sigh

Shaking her head,
Wolvish ears then prick forward
Towards the tumulting, crying crowd

Slowly, she stalks towards them
Hoping there is no danger


Eh, what?
Perception [roll0]
Sense Motive [roll1]

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

This does not bode well for someone, Avaris thinks.
"If people get fired up, they become an avalanche. So far, they seem rather quiet. "

But things spill over, too. Avaris has seen it before. And then, the strange and the strangers are often the first to fill the sting. Perhaps it was time to learn a bit more. Avaris walks to someone who seems calm but in the loop and asks.

"Goodmorning, goodman. Is there something amiss here?"

Perception check if needed [roll0]

[Mithric Gunn]

Foxy

Taking ten on kn nature for a 19

After much thought, Foxy turns to Sylvia, asking, "So, how do you dream?"

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Avaris:

"Huh? Oh... Good morning to you too, stranger", the thick-armed man that Avaris approached answered. Unlike most of the crowd, he was not dressed in a peasant's summer garb, but rather a thick leather apron marked with old burn marks and soots. That and the impressive musculature of his bare arms and barely-contained-by-his-shirt chest betrayed him as the village smith, most likely. Like his fellow townspeople, however, he seemed as wary as travellers as any other country folk in Taldor. Typical for these people, really. Insular and not willing to draw much attention to themselves, lest some jumped-up prefect or viceroy from Oppara notice their sleepy little town.

"I don't know myself, really. Best I can gather is that some Ulfen sellsword dragged himself to town last night, barely alive. Elder Safander's probably looking after him", he continued with a shrug.

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

"Thank you, goodman. I am sorry to bother you. But I am a newcomer in Helden, here to conduct business, so I do not know who Elder Safander is. And why did this sellsword make such a steer?

Again if it is not too much trouble to tell me"

Avaris remains deferential and friendly.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Hikaru

The townspeople seem to be too distracted by whatever's happening inside the Erastili temple to pay notice to the demonblooded exile approaching them. The air is filled with the busy drone of murmured conversations, punctuated by the sometimes pleading, sometimes annoyed urgings of the blue-haired gnome to see what is going on. As she listens in, Hikaru picks up bits and pieces of conversation.

"--- say it's snowing in the Border Wood."

"--- in the lady's caravan, that's for ---"

"--- heard from the Sentinels in weeks."

"--- fibbing. No way it gets that cold ---"

Finally, she focuses her sharp senses on two of the women closest to the doorway: a woman of Qadiran birth judging by his light brown skin and dark, almond-shaped eyes, dressed in a simple, utilitarian dress with a sunburst knitted on the bosom, and the stern-looking elven woman with a basket on her arm, her hands covered in supple leather gloves and her body wrapped in a tight-fitting suit of forest green.

"I am so sorry for troubling you, Tessaraea", the Qadiran woman said apologetically, speaking to the elf across the temple's threshold - a clear border that none of the peasants seemed willing to cross. "It seems I misjudged how serious the situation is. Husband Natharen said the man is now stable and resting."

"Better that way, I suppose", the elf called Tessaraea answered, shrugging nonchalantly. "Anything you can tell us what happened? The townsfolk seem to be getting restless. Rumors, whispers, guesses. And it looks like Tengezil is going to explode if he doesn't hear what's going on soon."

"No. No, I cannot do that. Mistress Teppen is seeing him now, along with two of the other councilmen. They are trying to figure out what happened, now that he is lucid again."

"So all this talk about pixies and witches summoning a blizzard...?"

"He was delirious, Tessaraea. I would take anything he has said with a pinch of salt. But the frostbites... Dawnflower's mercy, I've never seen such damage. He will be lucky if he ever holds a sword again."

"Oh? Well, maybe I can help him there. I have been experimenting with a brand new mutagen of manual dexterity. Granted, it's still very much experimental, but if he doesn't mind warts and maybe an extra thumb, maybe I could ---"

"TESSARAEA!" the Qadiran yelled out, looking absolutely shocked.



Avaris

The smith took a good look at Avaris and smiled wryly. "Ah, one of Willowbark's colleagues again, eh? Well, as long as you don't go blowing up a cow or tinkering with the well... And that's Elder Natharen Safander, our pastor. He's looking after the sellsword. I remember him. Ulfen with big bushy beard who drank like a fiend at the Stoat. Passed by here some weeks ago, escorting some Opparan highborn lady to her betrothed in Zimar. What he's doing in here... well, that's none of my business, really. What worries me is how he came back. I've never seen a northman so frightened and so badly wounded... whatever he came across must have been a terrifying foe indeed."

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

"Willowbark? I think I will trust your insight, goodman, and say that I am indeed a colleague of Willowbark. Perhaps you can point me to the direction of my colleague?"

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Avaris

The smith frowned a little, looking at Avaris strangely before he nodded towards the doorway. "You'll be wanting the elf what's talking with Elder Safander's old lady", he said and pointed towards the white-haired elven woman that had ran past the Silver Stoat just moments earliers. Over the heads of the crowd it was next to impossible to tell what she and the Qadiran woman at the temple's doorway were talking about, but apparently the elf had made some manner of a shocking suggestion, judging by the darkhaired woman's expression.

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

"Thank you kindly, goodman".

Avaris walks confidently towards the two women. He himself is not sure why. After all, he is in trouble already. But it was one of those moments.

"Excuse me good ladies. I am Ι am Avaris Voreinos, Collegius Ambicalis Experta. A pleasure. May I ask if I may be of assistance?"

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

Ahh. At least Balthasar hadn't gotten the wrong person. Nathali laughs in relief and strides forward, replying in their native tongue as she clasps Jarnulf's hands warmly in her own.

* "Why so formal all of a sudden? It is good to see you. It has been too long."

Clapping her cousin roundly on the shoulders, she fails to notice for the moment that Hikaru has departed to take a closer look at those gathered around the town hall. A moment later, she espies the tiny sylph standing by Jarnulf and her eyes widen in pleasant surprise before furrowing in faint bewilderment. "And if it isn't the little lady who drank me and Balthasar under the table back in Jol! Wait- you both know each other?"

Balthasar, having clawed his way up her skirt and ensconced his shiny prize in Nathali's hood, decides to risk peeking at Jarnulf from the safety of Nathali's shoulder.

[Desril]

Sylvia

In response to the android's question about dreams, the sylph struggles to find a suitable answer. "That's difficult to explain to anyone. It's sort of like visiting another world that only exists while you sleep, but it just happens." Not satisfied with her own answer, she continues thinking about it until Nathali notices her.

Beaming again at Nathali's question, "Never seen him before, but I joined in the conversation just before your furry little friend showed up. Now I'm glad I did, it's looking like today is going to be pretty entertaining. The Lady in the Room must be looking out for me today."

Looking over at the crowd and at the people trying to listen in she decides that she can't bear not knowing any more, "Now I'm getting really curious about what's going on. I'm going to see what I can find out while you two catch up. Care to join me Foxy?" That said, she quickly steps toward the crowd, trying to get a better position to figure out what's happening.


Perception [roll0]

[Miraqariftsky]

Disturbing tidings
Filter through babel,
The beasts they'd met
And the off-season snow

Hikaru frowns, thinking,
Then makes towards Nathali
She taps her on the shoulder,
Flicks her ears, then gestues
Towards the temple
She gives an exaggerated shiver
And draws a line across her wrists
Then points with her naginata
Out, out into the forest
She then gives a mock-
-Shudder, stumbling
Mimes some walking
And some stumbling
With a hand's fingers
Making towards the temple,
Then suddenly imitating
A backwards flop,
As if struck
Or weak

Her charade done, she returns
To a semblance of normalcy
Nodding at Nathali solemnly.

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

"It's been years since I last saw you, cousin. And the fact that it was you who came here, without a wife's hood no less, that makes me wonder what has happened with you since we last met", Jarnulf answered. He was always like that, going straight to the point. That a woman who wasn't a shield maiden had travelled this far south from their ancestral land was surprising in his eyes. Either Nathali held a special status in her family, or something had happened in the intervening score of years to elevate her so that she would be sent as their family's envoy.

"And no, we don't have the pleasure of knowing each other. We merely shared the floor of the tavern for the night. And speaking of... Balthasar, was it?" he asked, extending his hand. "I would like my compass back now, please." That said, he stood and waited, even though he looked curiously at his cousin's bodyguard as she returned and started signing to Nathali.

Is she mute? Jarnulf wondered to himself, trying to figure out what the chicken-legged woman - he was pretty sure she was a woman - was trying to communicate. Something about... wounds? And about the temple and the forest? He had noticed the gathering of people outside the temple, but he had paid them little notice.



GM Post

Sylvia

As Sylvia neared the crowd, she could hear tidbits from the old crone's discussion with three of the other village women. Not enough to piece together an entire conversation, thanks to the droning of conversation and the hushed tones that they used. But something at least.

"Dark tidings, dark tidings", the old woman repeated, shaking her head as she tightened her worn shawl around her shoulders. "I saw it in my dreams. Cold winds and snow-choked nights..."

Avaris

It took some maneuvering to push his way through the crowd, but Avaris nonetheless managed to slip past the tightly-packed townspeople so that he was close enough to make his introductions. Both the Qadiran and the elf turned to look at him, the former with suspicion and the latter with curiosity.

"A fellow practitioner of the Art, eh?" the elven woman asked, looking at Avaris as she tilted her head. "And a fancy title, too. Of that there is no doubt. Tessaraea Willowbark, at your service. And pray tell me, what services does a travelling alchemist such as yourself offer?"

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

The tall Ulfen woman shrugs easily, the multiple braids in her hair swaying as they are mussed by the chill wind, slipping back into Common. "I was the youngest of our generation capable of travelling? The elders wanted to get rid of Balthasar for a couple of months? Might've set a couple too many barns on fire while practising my craft too... Guess they figured I could protect myself? Not that any of us realised at the time that a forest in the middle of high summer was probably not the best place to indulge my pyromaniacal tendencies..."

Nathali waves a hand vaguely in Hikaru's direction as she rambles on. At Jarnulf's request for the compass to be returned, she grins amiably and pokes the ermine on his tiny nose. "Miscreant. Restore what you took. You know you can't eat a compass. Unless you want people to pick you up and shake you every time they want to know which direction to go in. 'Sides, your mouth is too small and you'd dent your teeth."

Hikaru's tap on the shoulder and subsequent pantomime distracts her from making sure that Balthasar does actually return the compass. Nathali frowns and cants her head to one side, narrowing her eyes. "You're cold? Yeah me too- no, it's not worth cutting your wrist over, I don't think. And someone was hurt... and is in the temple? Flopped over? Dead? Is it something we can help with? I'm not very good with the healing stuff, you know. But I suppose we could try and find someone who is...?"

*****

Balthasar

Balthasar Bardolph Brown stares at Jarnulf primly, his short whiskers twitching cat-like. People didn't usually politely ask Balthasar to return their things. Usually they ended up shouting and throwing other things at him. This was something new. Whatever could it mean?

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris raises an eyebrow at the less than warm welcome.

"A title well earned nevertheless, Lady Tessarea. And my services can be those of healing, nature lore and arcane lore. For example, isn't the fact of the cold wind blowing from the wrong direction a bit puzzling?

But I will not force a welcome. If my services are not wanted, I will leave. Myself, I very rarely offer them for free. I find they are diminished that way. It seems I am right."

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

"Still, I'm surprised they sent you. The passage from Southmoor to Taldor is a slow and perilous one, even at the best of times. And... your craft? Forgive me, cousin, but since when has raising ferrets and weasels involved fire-starting?" Jarnulf asked incredulously, still looking at his cousin and holding his hand up to the ermine, waiting for the little thief to cough up its loot.

"And a healer? Well... I hooked up with an alchemist on my way here. Decent enough fellow, I think. I figure he might know something. And I think he already went there", he continued, turning to look at his cousin's strange bodyguard. "If you'll come with me, I'll show him to you."


GM Post


Avaris

Tessaraea quirked a curious eyebrow, looking right at Avaris. "Hm. My apologies, then. But trust me, you would be as suspicious as I am, should you hear how many times some hedge witch or snake-oil salesman comes to town, declaring themselves the former surgeon of the Grand Prince, or the apprentice of Thuvian grand alchemists or something equally grandiose."

"Be that as it may, Tessaraea, I still can't let you in. Either of you", the Qadiran woman interjected, nodding apologetically to Avaris. "The patient is still in a rather delicate condition, and it would be best if he just got a chance to rest."

"I'm afraid that's an opportunity we can ill afford to give him", a new voice interjected, this one coming from a lean, wiry woman in her early forties as she appeared into the foyer with two men. All of them were dressed in merchant's finery, but it was clear that it was the woman who did the talking. "Your husband is asking for you, mistress Zaarida. I will deal with the crowd." With that, the wiry woman quickly strode to the temple's doorway.


All

Suddenly, a deep and immediate hush fell over the crowd in front of the temple, as a lean, wiry woman in merchant's finery stepped out from the temple. She looked at the gathered crowd, a deep frown on her forehead as she coughed and started.

"Friends, neighbours. I know you are all frightened and worried. The recent events in the Border Woods... the rumors and whispers... and now the arrival of this northman. Be assured, the town council has heard him, and we will take measures to make sure that our town stays safe", she spoke with the practised ease of someone who was used to giving speeches.

"Like what? Are we going to call in the militia?" the smith called out.

"No, master Euphram, we are certainly not. The militia's first and foremost task has always been the defense of the town. That will not change. Normally we would send word to the Sentinels, but as there has been no word... we will hire mercenaries. Someone willing to go into the Border Woods and deal with this situation."

"Ooh! I know, I know! Let's ask them!" came an excited yell from the jumpy gnome, and he turned to point at the handful of people gathered near the Silver Stoat. Almost in sync, the whole crowd's attention suddenly turned to the two pale women, the two Ulfen cousins and the demonblooded warrior.


Jarnulf

"Crap... This can't be good."

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris sees a chance. Perhaps not his chance, but a chance. It is better to be on the spotlight, than in the shadows of accusation. His normal shadowy ways are left momentarily behind.

He strides boldly to stand with the others. He raises his hands in a gentile, pleading gesture.

"Speaking only for myself, I will be happy to help this fine town. These ladies and the gentleman can speak for themselves. But could we discuss the offer somewhere more privately?"

[Miraqariftsky]

Hikaru starts at the crowd's turning
She checks herself from
Lowering her lance
And setting
The point

A brow rises
So too, the tail behind
She bows deeply, black lips grave set

Taps Nathali's shoulder,
Bows at the gold-bearded, thick-thewed warrior
And nods towards
The temple
And crowd

Snorts a sulfurous sigh
Quirks a smirk
At Sylvia

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

At this, Nathali looks vaguely embarrassed, a faint pink tinge spreading across her cheeks as she rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. "Well, you know how people always said great-granddam Signe had a touch of the mystic about her? Yeah, I..." The Ulfen woman trails off as she notices the staring crowd, arching her slim brows in surprise. "Huh. This usually takes a while longer to happen. The bit where I get run out of town, that is."

Balthasar, sending trouble afoot, dives into Nathali's hood and stays there.

[Desril]

Sylvia

Having been making her way back to the Ulfen pair after failing to learn anything of particular value, Sylvia is quick to notice who the crowd looked to when someone cried out about asking 'them' and turned to look back. Quietly to Nathali, she whispers, "That's not a 'chase them out' glare, that's a 'see what we can get them to do for us' stare."

Raising her voice after Avaris she addresses the crowd, "I'm sure that we can probably solve whatever problem you're having, but we'd have to know what it is first, and that's probably a better indoor chat than a shouting contest, so let's take this inside to discuss the matter like the fair and civilized folk we are."

As an aside, so that only those being observed can hear but not the crowd itself, she adds, "Ah, The Lady in the Room provides. Hopefully whatever this is ends up being fun and pays well, my coin purse was getting light."


Diplomacy on the crowd [roll0]

[Mithric Gunn]

Foxy

"I am curious about this weather. And, as long as the risk is worth the reward, I have no problem solving their problem. Could you ask them about what we stand to gain, Sylvia? I always seem to anger people when I talk to them."
Foxy thinks for a brief moment, then adds, "Maybe its because theyre stupid."

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

Jarnulf had managed a groan when Nathali had mentioned "the touch of the mystic". Just his like... not only was his cousin the mistress of all thing furry, annoying and ankle-biting, now she apparently had the power of magic on her side to make her the bane of every un-booted foot from here to Andoran.

The crowd's reaction and the words of Avaris and the airy-looking young woman, however, made him frown a little. "Well how do you like that... I think we'd best go and listen in any case, cousin. With any luck, we may find some coin in all of this. If not... well, it will take us out of town - and give your companion less chances to steal from people", he added with a wry smile.


GM Post

"Well spoken, ma'am", the wiry woman nodded to Sylvia's words. "Come with me, we will re-convene in the town hall. My name is Ionnia Teppen, head of the village council. I will gladly hear your names as well. But in private. This morning has seen enough of a show", she added in a fed-up tone of voice, giving one pointed look to the jumpy gnome who quickly hid his person behind the well-groomed dwarf. "Follow me, if you will."

Leading those willing to follow, the woman who had introduced herself as Ionnia Teppen walked towards the three-storied, well-maintained building overlooking the town square. Not surprisingly for such a small town, the town hall was easily one of the largest and best-maintained houses in the town. What was surprising, however, was the presence of a large, looming belltower, its four clock faces looking in each cardinal direction. Even as the odd group of outsiders walked inside, they could hear the ticking and grinding gears of the impressive structure's mechanisms.

Not stopping for a moment, mistress Teppen walked directly into her office and took a seat behind his table, overloaded as it was with paperwork. Everything in the small office reeked of tradition and familial duty, with small but masterful portraits of generations past looking down from the walls. Not surprisingly, many of those now-deceased men and women bore Ionnia's features: her sharp chin, her piercing eyes, the lean physique of a hunting cat.

"The facts are as follow, and I will be grateful if they remain within these walls: last night, an Ulfen man by the name of Yuln Oerstag stumbled into town, wounded and winded. He bore not only the marks of battle, but signs of serious frostbite and severe cold. He had been in the town before, as part of an escort for Lady Argentea Malassene, a highborn lady from Oppara. He said that the lady had wished to return to the capital, and that they had been waylaid by bandits as they approached the edge of the Border Wood, no more than six miles to the south of us. The bandits seized the lady and butchered her escort, save for master Oerstag who managed to escape and make his way here."

"Normally we would not seek the assistance of sellspells and mercenaries", Ionnia continued, her words bearing no malice as she named the men and women before her thus. A spade was a spade, and a mercenary was a mercenary, no matter how you sliced the matter. "but send word to the High Sentinels, an auxiliary unit of the Taldan Phalanx who guard the Border Wood against Qadiran aggression from the south. However, recent events have made such an approach impossible. For one, the hunters and loggers of the town have mentioned strange happenings in the woods. Chill winds, morning frost... those who have ventured deeper have even mentioned heavy snowfall and creatures hiding and hunting in the snowbanks. Furthermore, the High Sentinel Lodge is situated deep within this snow-clad area, and we do not have the men to send in what could be dangerous terrain."

"Thirdly, there is the matter of what Yuln Oerstag told us. He told that the bandits fought alongside creatures not of this world. Fey, he claimed. And judging by his wounds, malicious fey at that. He is still weakened, but he said he will tell more to those we choose to send after Lady Argentea. Which is where we come to you: find Lady Argentea, and return her safely to Heldren. If possible, we also wish you to find out what has happened to the High Sentinels. Are they still alive and fighting these strange invaders, or have they fallen?"

"Naturally, we will compensate you for your efforts. But what say you? Will you find the lady?"


Jarnulf

Jarnulf frowned deeply when he heard the name of the survivor. That the lone surviving guard was an Ulfen was news in itself - despite their fame, northmen were few and far between outside Oppara - but the name ringed a bell on its own. Looking at Nathali, he lifted an eyebrow, as if asking if she had made the connection as well.

Yuln Oerstag had been one of his father's men.

[Miraqariftsky]

Hikaru nods before Ionnia,
Taking in all she has to say,
Heart growing with fire to reveng--- to right some wrongs,
And on the mention of beasts
Of the sinister frostfell,
She dumps her load
Letting the four
White wolf-pelts
Thud to the floor.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

If Ionnia Teppen was shocked at the sign of snow-white furs, obviously freshly killed and skinned, on her office floor, he hid it quite well. What she could not hide, however, were the deep creases that formed on her forehead as she frowned deeply at the sight of them. One pelt could simply be counted as a freak of nature, an albino beast that had somehow survived into adulthood. But four of such beasts? Gozreh would have had to be crazier than a brain-damaged goblin to bring so many of such creatures into existence naturally.

"Where did you get those?" the elder councilwoman demanded, looking right at the demonblooded warrior woman. Surprisingly, she didn't seem to show any fear or trepidation at the sight of Hikaru's obviously inhuman features. Perhaps she had seen something much more frightening - or she put such superstitious fears aside when the safety of her hometown was at stake.

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

Catching Jarnulf's waggled brows, Nathali returns a curt nod, curling her lip. Well, well. As the fates would have it, it would seem that as far as settling the weregild for Jarnulf's late father went...

"I'm not adverse to helping out your town, councilwoman. Rest assured that if there's anything I can do... Perhaps you could let us speak further with this... Yuln Oerstag, was it? Perhaps he might have something useful to say. Might be of assistance in recovering your noblewoman, whom I'm sure, is terrified out of her wits," says the tall Ulfen smoothly.

When Hikaru dumps the wolf pelts on the floor, Nathali grins sheepishly. "Um, that would be... me. Well, Balthasar's fault, really. My ermine went hunting for rabbits in the woods not a week's travel from here, and we were ambushed by yon beasts. It was thanks to the efforts of this brave maiden and her skill with the lance that we escaped with our lives."

On cue, Balthasar pokes his nose out of Nathali's hood, sniffs the air, then decides it would be wiser to remain hidden for now and retreats.

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

If Avaris was shocked (and he was) by the new company he found himself, he also did not show it. He hears the councilwoman describe the problem and again, the stirring appears in his fingers spinning like a living thing.

"I would also be glad to be of help. But I am not of this area and so, I so not know how far these places are, nor how to get there. If others in this esteemed gathering know, it would be good to share.

There is also the matter of time and compensation. Unfortunately, there always is. Will be there time to prepare, perhaps a day or two? And what kind of compensation did you have in mind? I ask because I believe that time is also an issue in these kinds of talks"

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf Hjallarsson

"You need not worry about finding your way", Jarnulf spoke up, looking at Avaris. "I can read tracks well enough to find these bandits. If there is indeed snow in the woods, that task will be all the easier. No offence to you people, but I've yet to meet a southerner who didn't walk in the snow like a lame elk", the brash woodsman continued with a wry smile.

"If my cousin goes, I'll go with her. But yes, we would need to talk to Yuln Oerstag first."

Knowledge (Nature) (1d20+7)[16], rolled in the new dice roll thread.

Leaning down to study the pelts closer, Jarnulf sniffed a little and looked up again. "Wolf pelts. That is at least good news. A dire wolf or a worg would be worse. But the color of these pelts... these beasts track in snow, not woodlands."


GM Post

Ionnia Teppen frowned deeply at Nathali's words of such an encounter, but spoke nothing as she sat down again.

"Very well. I have informed elder Safander that any mercenary who wishes to take up this task will likely wish to talk to master Oerstag. Tell the good father I sent you, and he will let you in the infirmary", she said, crossing her hands.

"As for time, we wish you to not tarry. Were these just bandits, we would assume they captured Lady Argentea to hold her for ransom. But that there are fey involved... that worries me immensely. The council will pay for your meals and lodgings at the Silver Stoat for today, but we urge you to be on your way as soon as you can. Preferably today, but if you must wait, tomorrow the latest. On the safe return of Lady Argentea, we will pay you each a purse of gold. Whatever you need to purchase before that... I will ask our merchants and Mother Theodora to show you the best of their wares. I cannot, however, demand that they offer you purchases on credit. That you will have to negotiate with them."


Jarnulf Hjallarsson

"Sooner would be better than later. Lame elk or not, the trail will grow cold if we keep waiting. Colder still if there is fresh snowfall."

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

"Tommorrow it is, then. Let us meet with the god father. And then, retire to make plans."

[Desril]

Sylvia

Speaking up, the sylph turns to Avaris, "Why wait until tomorrow? It will take a while to get to where the attack happened, let's just question this Yuln person, get whatever supplies we need, and then make a plan while we move."

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

"My Art takes time, miss. And it is much more effective when I have time to plan. I do not believe half a day will make a difference. And we may find that our plans called for something hard to get on the road.

But I do not insist on the point. I would rather that it happened tommorow. But if you all agree that we must leave today, we will. Though, again, arriving at a hostile place in the night is unconductive to long health"

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

"I get that the noblewoman's life is at stake. But if we rush off without making adequate preparation, then our lives might end up forfeit to the Lady of Graves for our recklessness. This is the fey we are dealing with, after all... We shall prepare as best we can and then leave." Nathali considers the proposition with care, pursing her lips. "Councilwoman, we will see Yuln Oerstag first. But also, do you know of anyone in town who might be able to advise or aid us in the affairs of the fey in this area? Are they in the habit of kidnapping your people or is this unusual for them?"

Then, with a wry grin, Nathali jerks her head at her recent saviour. "Hikaru. Are you with us?"

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

"No... this is highly unusual to say the least. Of course there are always rumors; a suddenly pregnant shepherd girl claiming a satyr seduced her, or one of the boys saying that a nixie stole his best catch", Ionnia Teppen answered, the small smirk at the corner of her mouth revealing how much stock she put in such tales. "Frankly, this is the first time I am inclined to believe when someone says they've seen one of the fey. But if you need someone who knows more... I would encourage you to talk with either Elder Safander, our priest and servant of Erastil. Or Old Mother Theodora, for that matter. She is the village midwife and wisewoman. If anyone knows the truth of such fairy tales from Heldren's history, it is her. At this time of the day, she is either at her house on the east side of town, or seeking breakfast at the Silver Stoat."


Jarnulf

The silent Ulfen had listened closely, and nodded when the councilwoman offered them two people to talk to. "Alchemist", he spoke up, looking at Avaris. "What is the least amount of time you will require?"

[Miraqariftsky]

Hikaru nods at Nathali
When she voices
Her caution.

Once again, black bangs bob
As red-helmed head bows
In agreement
As answer
To Nathali.

The ears flick and droop
The tail swishes
Disturbed
At sinister
Tidings.

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris listens to Ionia and then nods.

"This is my understanding also. Fey, I was taught, either avoid humans or cause specialized mischief. We are either playthings or irrelevant. Collaboration is more or less very rare. This is strange. And worrisome"

Once again, the rod twirls. In Jarnulf's question, he fixes his hair instinctively.

"Tomorrow morning. And I lack a horse, if speed is of the essence"

It has come to my attention that Avaris has not shown any reaction to the demonspawn's appearance. Too late now, but I will be more vigilant next time.

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

She nods imperceptibly as the councilwoman rattles off the names, committing them to memory. Well, well, well. It looked as though things were off to a start of some sort, at any rate.

"Cousin, I'm loathe to gallivant off on an errand like this that may involve... people of a sensitive nature. The elders sent me here to bring you tidings and send word back, but seeing as the gods have seen fit to present us with such tidings and circumstance - and I haven't even had breakfast yet..." Nathali makes a face as she looks at Jarnulf. "I was supposed to have a long and hearty and solemn discussion with you on this over mead and meat. But I suppose the short version will have to do for now..."

She switches back to Skald without missing a beat.

* "The weregild. Do you wish to claim it, how do you wish to claim it, and when would you like to start if you do? Because your answers are going to affect how you and I commit ourselves to this."

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

The stonefaced Ulfen looked up at his cousin and frowned deeply. Many a night he had pondered such questions, and what to do should a chance to reclaim his honor appear in Pharasma's bones. He looked at his cousin and then the conglomeration of outsiders around them.

No. This was not the time nor the place to speak openly, he considered before answering in Skald, in three short bursts of words. "Ja. Med jarn. Och snart."

To those who speak Skald:
"Yes. With iron. And quickly."

"And I doubt we'll need horses. If a wounded northman can drag himself to Heldren, we can manage a walk. Besides, these southern horses are easily spooked by cold", he added to Avaris's concerns about their lack of mounts.

GM Post

"You would be surprised, master woodsman", Ionnia Teppen remarked at that jab at the quality of Taldan husbandry. "I am certain stablemistress Imirras could find a suitably hardy steed to your liking. She prides on hiring her horses to couriers, so I'm sure she will find you mounts for your trip into the Border Wood. If there is, however, nothing else, I will have to ask you to begin your preparations. May the gods go with you."

With that, you are courteously asked to leave the town hall. Now what's the plan? Hire horses? Meet the elders? Question Yuln? Purchase provisions? Get drunk at the Silver Stoat? The map of Heldren is available in the previous page.

[Desril]

Sylvia

Wondering just what the story of Nathali and Jarnulf's conversation is, the sylph stays quiet and doesn't respond until Jarnulf's lack of concern for the walk is mentioned where Sylvia interjects, "Even if we don't need the horses, it'll be faster if we take them. If they have trouble with the weather then we can just send them back."

After leaving the town hall, she turns to the others, "Now let's go question this Yuln and see what he can tell us while we're all together."

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

Nathali frowns and purses her lips. Having strangers along when questioning Oerstag might jeopardise her family's ability to claim weregild. Still, she wasn't about to go explain all that to these people she'd barely knew just yet. And meeting Oerstag would be a start at any rate.

Absent-mindedly feeling about in her hood, Nathali fishes out both Jarnulf's compass and her disgruntled ferret, handing the former over to her cousin while depositing the ferret on her shoulder. "I don't know about the stock of Southern horses, but I do suppose that if the councilwoman is willing to wager her horsemistress's reputation on it, we might obtain decent beasts, at any rate."

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

After the party has left the hall, Avaris turns to the others.

"I think we must go talk with wounded mercenary.And then look for supplies and horses. Is anyone willing to come with me? I am afraid my bedside manners are not the best"

He shrugs apologetically.

[Miraqariftsky]

Miko tags along
With Nathali
O'er her shoulder, wolf-pelts slung.


Sorry for brevity.
Severe storm.
Please feel free to bot, if I get too long away.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

It is a only a matter of moments for the group to come to a concensus: the first person they ought to talk to is Yuln Oerstag, the Ulfen survivor of Lady Argentea's envoy. By now the crowd in front of Heldren's small temple has dispersed, with a few people gathered in front of the Silver Stoat with pints or food, and some children (and one curious gnome) peeking at the newly-hired mercenaries behind the safety of picket fences - an elaborate, pastel-shaded one in case of the gnome, one that made it look like the bluehaired little man was trying to hide behind gingerbread sized for giants.

At the temple's doorstep, a Qadiran woman who looks to be in her late forties is just ushering out a young boy when you arrive. She looks up and smiles a little. "Ah, speak of the devil", she says, her smile reaching up to her eyes, crinkling her face just a little. "Come right in. Councilwoman Teppen sent word you would be arriving shortly. Husband Natharen is waiting for you with the patient. Please, keep your voices lowered, as this is a place of worship."

The latter she needn't have said, for despite Heldren's communal shrine lacking the stained-glass windows, reliquaries of precious metals and statues of marble and porphyr so common in imperial Taldor, the small house of worship simply breathed a calm sense of generational worship, its wooden floors polished with ages of scuffling feet, the simple statues of wood and brass in their small alcoves depicting the other gods revered here: Abadar with his golden key and Pharasma at the gates of life and death on one side of the temple, and Gozreh's twin aspects and Sarenrae's sunburst on the other. The main altar was a simple stone boulder, with the horns and bow of Erastil rising high on the back wall.

It was not in this temple proper that the Qadiran, introducing herself simply as Zaarida, lead the newcomers (although Jarnulf at least made a quick bow towards Old Deadeye's altar before following). Leading the men and women into an adjoining infirmary, they were met at the doorway by a man dressed in simple leather clothes, with an oak pendant of Erastil hanging on his chest. This must be Elder Safander, although never there had been an elder who looked so lively. With golden brown hair and a hunter's light step, he could have been easily mistaken for Zaarida's younger brother, until one noticed the slight sharpness in his ears; clearly, despite his appearance, Elder Safander likely had as many years as his wife, potentially more considering the title of 'elder', and if elven blood ran strong in his veins. Nodding to his wife and the people following her, the half-elven Erastili lowered his voice.

"The man is lucid and conscious - for now", the cleric explained, shaking his head. "He is still wary, thinking whatever attacked him might still be after him. Present yourself clearly to him and ask only short questions. I will have to ask you to leave if he gets agitated too much."

With that, Elder Safander drew open the curtains leading to the infirmary. There, on the single occupied bed of six, with his back pressed against the wall, sat a bearded Ulfen warrior, his light-blonde hair braided and crawling tattoos adorning his muscular arms. With his chain, helm, fur coat and sword resting on a chair beside him, he could have looked like he was just simply sleeping - were it not for the bandages around his head, a patch of which covered his eye, and other bandages around his hands and legs. His fingers and toes were blue, the tips bordering on black, as was his nose.

Heal DC 10 (or automatic if you've lived in regions where winter is cold and snowy):
Yuln is suffering from severe frostbite. In midsummer. In Taldor!

At the sound of people coming in, the man stirs and tries to rise with a curse, only to fall back on his arse with an equal amount of cursing.

http://cdn.obsidianportal.com/images/1119414/image.jpg
"Who's there? By Gorum's rusty codpiece, I demand that you reveal yourself! Or is that you, you ice-sucking gnats? Come to finish the job, did you? Well come on, you throbbing bastards! I'll chew your wings off!"

[Desril]

Sylvia

Calling upon the Lady in the Room to guide her tongue, Syvia approaches Yuln confidently and moves so that he can see her more clearly.

"Fred, spelar rollen som, vi är inget hot."

Skald

"Peace, guardsman, we are no threat."


Switching back to Taldane she continues, "And I have no wings to tear off in any event. We wish to ask you about the creatures that attacked you and what happened then. Are you well enough to aid us with information?"



Casting Enhanced Diplomacy

Heal [roll0]
Diplomacy [roll1]

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris watches the decorations at the shrine with an alchemist 's eye for metallurgy. Nicely done. But he quickly gravitates towards the hurt man. He is no healer, but he can see the damage done by the cold.

Sulfur and pyrh, how did these happen?

He leaves the talking to others. He is no good at it. But he is a very good judge of character. Standing a respectful way back, he focuses his tare on the man. Though he would have no cause to lie, it would be good to be prudent.

Sense Motive [roll0] or just +7, if the DM rolls it.

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

Nathali stays close to Jarnulf, giving her cousin a cautionary nod in Sylvia's direction. There was no telling how Yuln would react upon hearing the voice of a fellow Ulfen. Perhaps it would be best to let the others take the lead first.

Sense Motive: [roll0]
Perception on Yuln - what is this state of mind, anything unusual besides his frostbite: [roll1]

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

Jarnulf could feel his muscles tense up the moment he lay eyes on Yuln Oerstag. It had been more than a decade since he had last seen the man, and the deep blues and purples of Yuln's frostbitten extremities further aged him, but the son of Hjallar could still recognize one of his father's traitorous warriors. Nathali's silent caution made him hold his tongue for the time being, though.

GM Post

Sylvia seems to manage to calm the Ulfen man down, because as she speaks, the man visibly relaxes, falling back on his bed and pillows, leaning against the wall. His one visible eye focuses on the priestess, and he sighs with relief.

"I... I was certain it was them. The bastards hunted me all the way to Heldren, making me run like a deer in front of hounds", the Ulfen spoke up, looking at the gathering of mercenaries and sellspells before him. "I'll tell you what I saw, and tell you to piss off when you call me a liar. These southerners certainly think I'm just pulling all of this out of my arse. Can't much blame 'em, though. I never have seen the winter-touched so far south in the first place."

"The winter-touched?" came Jarnulf's singular question from the back.

"Aye, that's who attacked us. Fey creatures of the far north, who've sworn their service to the White Witches of Irrisen, those witch-blooded bitches whose dam Baba Yaga stole her kingdom from my forefathers. Creatures no taller than the forearm of a man, but don't be fooled by their size. Legends say the witches put a sliver of ice into their hearts, and that their very touch bears the harshness of winter. Two of them attacked Snorri; last I saw of him, he was screaming and blind, the fey having frozen his eyes and face."

"Of course, at first we thought it was just lowly brigands looking for a foot of steel in their guts that first came at us. But then the cold fey attacked as well, and we were routed. I'm no coward, but when I saw them take out good men like rats, I knew there was no point in staying and dying."

Avaris

Avaris cannot tell for certain anything about how much the Ulfen may be spinning his tale. It is certainly a fanciful story, but he doesn't seem to possess the presence of mind to willfully lie at the moment. Perhaps a side effect of the calming herbs and other remedies applied by the healers?

Nathali

As far as Nathali can tell, Yuln is speaking the truth. His perception may be colored, though. Shock, the remedies given to dull the pain, the shame in having left his sword-brothers to die... all those may have influenced Yuln Oerstag's perception of how the battle went, even though there is no doubt what he believes is true: that a bandit raid turned deadly when creatures that Ulfen mothers scare their children with and who legends say dwell in the witch-ruled ice realm of Irrisen joined the fray.

[North_Ranger]

Avaris and Jarnulf

For both the alchemist and the woodsman, the mention of the winter-touched brought chills down their spines. For Avaris, they came from the legends of his grandparents and the tomes discussing the nature of the fey in various parts of Golarion, while Jarnulf recalled cautionary tales and dark rumors from family friends in Hagsreach and the easternmost borders of the Grungir Forest.

Despite their different sources, both Ulfen recalled similar tales: of fey creatures bending the knee before the evil of the White Witches of Irrisen, and taking a sliver of ice into their hearts in the dark and mysterious Rite of Winter. What specifically happened to the fey during the ritual was a secret known only to the White Witches, but the results were clear: no matter how goodly, kind, or simply mischievous or self-centered, the fey emerged again with cold cruelty instilled in their hearts, their otherwordly loyalties severed before fanatical allegiance to their witch overladies. Even their flesh was transformed, now cast in the blues of a winter night and spider-webbed with white, like hoarfrost on glass. To the touch their flesh was cold, imparting some of Baba Yaga's supernatural winter upon those foolish enough to engage them up close.

Despite their strengths, however, the winter-touched were not invulnerable. Like all fey, they screamed and wailed at the kiss of cold iron, and fire - whether flame or fireball, it made no difference - was anathema to their new wintry flesh.

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris actually pales when he hears of the winter-touched. He turns to the others, to see if they know. The Ulfen seems to understand.

"Winter-touched make very bad enemies. Especially if we consider that they shouldn't be that far south. Their presence here signals that something is very very wrong.

I do not know your tools of the trade. But we are going to need cold iron to deal with them and fire."

Avaris crackles his knuckles. This was going to be harder that he expected,

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

Winter-touched fey this far south? It was an unlikely tale. However, given that she and Hikaru had encountered white wolves as well, perhaps there was a grain of truth to Yuln's tale after all. Perhaps some warlord or a powerful sorcerer was importing miserable slaves here. Or someone was pulling a very nasty practical joke to afright the townsfolk here.

"We must know everything you can tell us," Nathali says as soothingly as she can manage. "How many of these winter-touched did you see? Was there anyone else with them? You mentioned brigands too. Was their main target Lady Argentea, or do you think they had another goal in mind?"

Diplomacy (if needed): [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

"Got that covered", the silent ranger spoke up, looking at the more eloquient man in the company. Still, he reached into his quiver and pulled out one of the arrows, ones that were fletched with red-painted feathers. He tossed the arrow to the alchemist, letting him study it if he chose. The tip of the arrow was a simple design, one intended for a killing shot against an unarmored foe. But the material was strange: faintly glimmering, more like silver than steel in appearance.

The woodsman carried cold iron in his quiver.

GM Post

Yuln was paying more attention to Nathali than the two men's banter, and he nodded with a groan.

"Aye, that's true. Cold fey and bandits alike. Numbers I can't tell for sure, it was all a bloody mess. Half a dozen winter-touched and as many bandits, at least."

"As for the lady... I don't know. But whatever plans those accursed White Witches have for her... it can't be good. For anybody. At least they seemed to want her alive, for last I saw of her, the bandits were dragging her into the woods as she cursed at them like a fishwife."

Yuln groans again, touching his patched eye. "I wish I could help you more... but until my hands and feet heal, I can neither walk nor wield a blade. There, by my bed", he continues, pointing towards the stacked clothes and a sword in its sheath. "My grandfather's blade is of cold iron. I will lend it to you, as long as you make those cold bastards bleed."

The group gains:
a cold iron longsword

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris remains behind, silent. He had nothing more to say and he was not good at saying it.

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

Nathali narrows her eyes at the sight of Yuln's sword. Given how attached Ulfen men were to their weapons, the chances of that sword being the very same as the one that Yuln had kept in his scabbard like a coward on the day her uncle died was indeed very very good. Glancing sidelong at Jarnulf, she continues to play the role of willing helper - for now. It would not do to cut down a blind cripple, especially when only he could reveal to them information vital for the task ahead.

"To loan to strangers the blade and pride of your forefathers is an action not lightly taken. We will guard it with our lives," she informs Yuln solemnly, nodding towards Jarnulf to nick the sword before there was a chance of Yuln changing his mind. "One more thing, warrior. Your companions - they may yet be alive. Perhaps you could tell us their names, that we might know them from the bandits?"

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

"I wish I could share your optimism, lass. I saw a good four or five of us die before the rest of us realized what was going on", Yuln answers, shaking his head. "But I'll give you their names and pray to Gorum that the winter-touched needed playthings - a terrible fate to ask even for a foe", he continues. "Snorri I saw blinded but alive. Gyrth and Freke - brothers from Kalsgard - were getting to Captain Bolvar to protect Lady Argentea, and Torgun was cutting the horses free from the handmaidens' wagon. Our drivers were dead long before that."

Jarnulf

Catching Nathali's nod, Jarnulf moved to the blind side of the crippled Ulfen mercenary and picked up the blade. The handle was worn and spoke of old age, the leather grip darkened to near black with generations of sweat and palm. Deciding against drawing the blade - as that might draw Yuln's attention to him - Jarnulf took a look at the other belongings piled on the chair.

Perception (1d20+7)[20]

Most of Yuln's belongings are patently unremarkable - torn, bloody clothing used for rags, a pair of wet boots, a hunting knife - but the silent young man did espy the man's coin purse. It would not be such a crime to steal from a traitor, now would it? he thought to himself, pondering whether or not this was the same blade on which Yuln had sworn loyalty to his father, and then to that traitorous turncoat Hrafn. But would he be any better than Yuln or Hrafn if he did? Both were men without honour in the eyes of the gods now...

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

Nathali repeats the names of the men that Yuln mentions under her breath, wondering if any of these men had been part of the same dastardly crew who had abandoned Jarnulf as a child.

"Come," she says to the others, glancing warily at Jarnulf once more. "We must gather the supplies we need quickly if we are to rescue this Lady. Thank you once again, warrior. We hope to bear news of the Lady's safe return forthwith."

She holds open the door for the others to follow, idly wondering just what on earth one ought to bring on a mercenary jaunt like this. Food? Horses? Snowshoes? Perhaps Hikaru or her cousin would know about this sort of thing? What fun!

"We're going on an adventure, Balthasar, make no mistake about that," she murmurs under her breath as her ermine decides to emerge from her hood for some fresh air. "Do you think there'll be time for breakfast first?"

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

Jarnulf looked at his cousin, gritting his teeth a little at how she presumed to take charge of the situation and tell him where to go and when. After all, hadn't she asked him how he intended to pursue his vengeance? Amd here they were, next to one of the traitors...

... a blind man...

... who couldn't even stand up...

... let alone hold a sword...

... who hadn't even recognized him.

Calistria must have created all women, Jarnulf pondered grimly as he strapped Yuln's sword to his belt, next to his knives and axe. Why else would they always be right, and make it sting so?

"I think there is", he spoke up once they left the infirmary, answering his cousin's question. "For what it's worth, we should ask around for any cold iron weapons or other things - scrolls, wands and such - we can afford. I doubt there's much of such in a hamlet like this, but if someone happens to have a feybane weapon or a wand that turns pixies into gingerbread, I'd like to know of it. The tavern's as good a place to start as any, if you ask me."

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris follows the others out, a stirring rod twirling between his fingers.

"Fire can also work against the wintertouched. On that, I can help. I will have to work late into the night today, to prepare. But come tomorrow, I think winter clothes and winter gear will be in order.

Strange as it is to try to find those this far South, in the summer.

Other than that, I can not think of anything else. Perhaps manacles, if we come across the bandits?

So. What do we do now? Go our separate ways and meet tomorrow morning to leave? I live in the local inn, by the way."

[Desril]

Sylvia

Making sure she's the last one out of the room, Sylvia says a quiet prayer to The Lady in the Room to keep the man's injuries from killing him, grasping her holy symbol and letting the goddess' power flow through her to restore a bit of life to the maimed Ulfen. "A healing in exchange for the information, I can't do anything for the frostbite though."


Channel Positive Energy IIIIIII
[roll0]


While leaving with the others she speaks to them, "I was just passing through the town so I'm staying at the inn as well. We probably should try to find some winter clothes in case it really is as cold as it sounds. I've got a way to keep us all a bit warmer once we get there, but a good cloak is sometimes better than a fire. We should get some nets too. If fey are involved, then the smaller ones will be difficult to catch should they try to flee."

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

"I'd be surprised if we can find anything thicker than a goat-skin this far south", Jarnulf pointed out, shaking his head. "But I guess there's no harm in asking. How about we follow my cousin's suggestion and convene for breakfast? No point in making decisions with an empty stomach. And we need to decide who do we trust with coin. I don't know about you, but I travel with a light purse."

GM Post (Sylvia)

The sylph cleric's healing can indeed do little to fully render Yuln healthy again, but judging by the appreciative groan and the way he seems to slide back into a healing slumber, her touch was well-appreciated.

"Another servant of the gods, I see", a calm, friendly voice speaks up when she leaves the infirmary. Elder Safander is waiting by the doorway, apparently bringing fresh bandages to Yuln. "I wonder... are you and your companions leaving for the Woods today? If not, I could use an extra pair of hands to make sire the Ulfen does not lose his digits. If you are still in Heldren during the evening meal, seek me out here. I am sure I can find some curatives to aid you in your task."

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

As the majority of you (Sylvia having stayed behind and gotten "ambushed" by the half-elf cleric) gather outside the temple to contemplate your next move, you hear the doors of the Silver Stoat crash open. A thin, darkhaired and heavily bearded man with a fur coat and a cap adorned with pheasant feathers storms out of the tavern, throwing his middle finger at the entrance.

"To Asmodeus with the lot of you! You've seen the signs, and yet you say I'm making things up?! Fine, have it your way! I'll go and get you the beast's head! Then you can see for yourselves who's drunk!" the man yells and stalks off past you, towards the road leading to the south. What might catch the eye of some of you is the man's gear: hunting knife, shortbow, with a disarmed bear trap hanging from his backpack - and a pair of flimsy-looking snowshoes.

[Desril]

Sylvia

Having been caught off guard by the Elder's question, Sylvia takes a moment to gather her wits. "It seems they intend to wait until tomorrow morning before we leave, but I'm afraid I don't know much about mundane healing. Beyond what powers my goddess allows me, I have little ability to treat the injured. Are you sure I wouldn't just be in your way?"

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Sylvia

Elder Safander raised a curious eyebrow when Sylvia mentioned her lack of training in the healing arts. It was certainly a strange thing to hear, though not completely unheard of. After all, the gods did not always ask their servants to be their shields. No, a fair number of them demanded their priests bring the faith by the sword.

"I see", the half-elf answered with a solemn nod. "I will not press the matter then, dear sister. And no, you would not be in the way. Because even if you lack any formal training, well... my wife could always use a hand in keeping master Yuln calm while I treat his injuries. Despite his state, he managed to give me quite the shiner when I tried to convince him there were no pixies after him", he continued with a small smile. "So if you decide to come... you know where to find me. Go with the gods, dear sister", he added before ducking into the infirmary.

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris, on his way to the tavern, sees the incident with the strange man. He looks pointedly at the others.

"I think this man may know something interesting. Would you help me find out?"

He then approaches the trapper.

"Excuse me there, my good man. A moment of your time?"

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

The Ulfen man nodded and followed the alchemist. He also looked at his cousin and pointed towards the trapper's snowshoes. The damn things looked like they were held together by spit and prayers, but those were likely the best they could find this far south.

GM Post

Avaris

The thin trapper stops in his tracks, staring daggers at the people approaching him. His gear jangles and clinks loudly as he turns, and his bloodshot eyes turn to Avaris - who is also greeted by a rather powerful whiff of applejack in the man's breath as he barks his answer.

"Yeah, whadizzit? Whaddaya want? Mock good ol' Dryden Kepp some more, huh? Is that it?" he asks belligerently. "'Cause if so, then sorry, you can just go and f---"

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

"No, nothing of the sort. The opposite, really. Me and my...companions here will be venturing into the woods tomorrow. I think that whoever made fun of you is an idiot. I would greatly like to know what you saw. And I would trade you this tindertwig for it."

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

Startled by the violence with which the door was thrown open, Nathali watches the feather-hatted man stomp out the tavern with faint bemusement.

"What a weirdo," she mutters to Balthasar under her breath, not wishing to attract the attention of an angry and clearly befuddled. "You didn't pee in this man's oatmeal or something while looking for Jarnulf, did you?"

Balthasar nudges the side of her neck in protest and she bops him on the nose gently to let him know she was only joking. Leaving her cousin and the others to pursue the drunk, she peers into the tavern and approaches the person nearest the door. "Hello. I say, you wouldn't happen to know what's going on with that man what went storming out, would you? He looks fit to beat Gorum with a face like that."

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Avaris and Jarnulf

"Oh-ho, you're a funny one, aren't you?" the man laughed, shaking his head and laughing like Avaris had just cracked a fine jape indeed. "Trying to get me to tell where I saw that beastie... steal my thunder for some tinder", he chuckled before spitting on the ground. "Well you can just forget about it, friend. I mean to get that beast myself and show those jackasses its head."

"Wait wait wait", Jarnulf stepped in, trying to get the man's attention again as he was turning away once. "We were also wondering where you had gotten that.. um.. fine pair of snowshoes? We heard there's some unseasonable weather in the Border Woods and---"

"Figured you'd find Vivialla Steranus selling snowshoes?" the pheasant-capped man barked a laughter as he waved his hand towards the nearby general store, its door already welcomingly open. "Heh, I didn't figure they make 'em so thick up north. I made up my own pair, so fat chance you'll be getting any from her."

Nathali

The Silver Stoat is packed, as if half the town had gathered in the tavern's common room for breakfast. The Garimoses were definitely busy, Menander working in the kitchen and Kale along with two hired girls carrying plates of porridge, fresh bread and slices of straight-out-of-the-oven berry pie to hungry customers. The air was sweet and savory with the smell of breakfast, and thick with the hubbub of small town gossip, whether from a corner table where a handsome-looking girl with breeches and a tunic was holding court with half a dozen puppy-eyed suitors, or from a gaggle of local merchants, with included a dreamy-eyed elven woman and a surprisingly well-groomed dwarf with a mouthful of gold teeth.

The person Nathali had addressed, however, was a sandy-haired halfling man with the tip of his right ear missing from either a slashing blade or an unfortunate barbershop accident. He was wearing a simple sleeveless shirt that showed off fading tattoos in his surprisingly well-muscled arms. Wiping his mouth clean from pie stains on his arm, he smiled and looked up at Nathali.

"Oh, that's nothing", the halfling started. "Just Dryden Kepp, a local trapper, coming up with stories again. When he isn't pulling monstrous pikes out of Lodestone Lake, he's saying there's dire wolves in the Border Wood. Or giant mantises. Or this case, a giant ferret or something", he chuckled, shaking his head and showing just how much stock he put in such tales. "Frankly, I'm glad he decided to storm off before Menander broke out the Three Devil Ale. Dryden's stories are bad enough when he's hopped up on hard cider."

[Desril]

Sylvia

Catching up to Avaris just outside the Silver Stoat, Sylvia spots the pair of snowshoes dangling from the man's backpack and approaches him. Having caught the tail-end of the conversation, the sylph chimes in "We've no desire to steal prized game out from under you, but we do have business of an important nature to take care of out in snows. I'm sure if you had better supplies you could make yourself an even better pair of snowshoes, so why don't you let me buy that pair off you? Your hunting will be delayed a little, but you'll be much more comfortable for it."


Diplomacy [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Avaris, Jarnulf, Sylvia

The trapper mumbles something about people constantly getting in his way, but he seems to take a little to Sylvia's presence.

"Fifteen gold crowns, take it or leave it", he answers bluntly, staring down the sylph.

Appraise DC 20:
The snowshoes would be worth barely a third of that - at best. In fact, the snowshoes have a - politely put - "homespun" appearance to them, seemingly being made in a hurry by someone who had a vague idea what snpwshoes were supposed to do.

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

"Giant ferrets, hm? Sounds like my kind of tall tale." Nathali squints over at the other tables to see what everyone else is having for breakfast. Pie seems to be in demand. As is the alcohol. Turning back to the halfling, she grins and tries to catch the eye of one of the serving girls. "Don't s'pose you'd tell me more about it over some more pie? Just a little something I can use as a scary bedtime story for this little bugger on my shoulder here."

Diplomacy: [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

Jarnulf frowned at the price the trapper was asking. Granted, a good pair was worth its weight in gold in the right circumstances, but those things? Turning to look at Sylvia, he just shakes his head sternly.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Nathali

"I don't think there's much else to tell", the halfling answered with a shrug. "Like I said, Dryden's always coming up with stories, especially when he's in his cups. But find me a new cup full of applejack and a slice of pie, and I'll tell you how I came to be known as the Butcher of Jalrune. And that was before I opened my shop here, back when I sailed with the Zimar corsairs", he continues, flexing his muscles and flashing a broad grin.

[Desril]

Sylvia

Doing her best not to scoff, Sylvia examines the shoes skeptically. "If those were made of magically enhanced silk we might be able to call that a deal, but we both know you don't need that much to make two pairs that are twice as good as these. I'll give you six crowns for them, that'll get you better materials and more than enough to live on while you're making a new pair."


Diplomacy to talk him into the more reasonable sale [roll0]

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris returned to the hotel, leaving to the others the diplomatic efforts. He had never been gifted at them. Besides, he did say that he had work and preparations to do, and that was true.

Going straight to the small corner in the stable he had turned to a makeshift bench, Avaris started to set up his alchemical apparatus. He then laid down his recently acquires scrolls and went to work. For hours, and deep into the night, stopping only to drink and catch a bite, Avaris converted the arcane notations to extracts, elements and processes. Smells and bubbling sounds filled the space, though the horses seemed unaffected by them.

It was a miffed Avaris that emerged deep in the night. Most of the incantations, simple enough though they should have been, have eluded him. But he would learn. Oh, he would learn.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Sylvia and Jarnulf

"Nothing happening, missy", the trapper scoffed and shook his head. "Like I said, you ain't gonna find another pair for miles. So take your offer and shove it." With that, the red-eyed man gave another dirty gesture at Sylvia, turned around and kept walking.

*****

Presuming Sylvia doesn't stop the trapper...

Jarnulf

"And they say my kinfolk have bad manners", the silent Ulfen man spoke up, shaking his head as he watched the trapper go. There was no point in trying to calm the man's nerves; some people just had the attitudes of skunks. Double so when hung over, like the man had appeared to be.


"It seems it's just the two of us now", he continued, extending a callused hand. "Jarnulf, recentlly of the Verduran", he introduced himself briefly. "The man kept cursing the local store. Perhaps we ought to see if this Vivialla has any wares at all before we join the others for breakfast?"

[Desril]

Sylvia

Sighing as the trapper walks off, Sylvia shakes her head and lets him go. Oh well, not like I need them.

Taking the Ulfen's hand, the sylph introduces herself as well, "Sylvia Skybourne, formerly of wherever I happened to be at last," she says with a smile. "I agree, though she probably won't have anything that useful if he was badmouthing her store like that."

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

"Well, it's not like there isn't that many stores in this town to choose from. Might as well see what's on the offer."

*****

GM Post

Sylvia & Jarnulf

Contrary to what you might expect, the general store of Heldren, with the name of its proprioetress Vivialla Steranus carved into the store sign along with a nail and a hammer, proved to be anything but useless. The store was nowhere near as big as in the larger cities, but it was neatly organized and tidy, with clothing, manufactured goods from the cities, trade goods, tools and much more available. Clearly the shop's owner - a darkhaired Taldan matron in her late forties, more handsome than beautiful - wanted her shop to be a place where the locals could find or order anything they needed.

When the shop's small entry bell rang to mark Sylvia and Jarnulf stepping inside, the shopkeeper put down the cheese cutter she had been using to carve a large, round cheese into smaller pieces and wiped her hands.

"Welcome, welcome. How may I be of service?"

To make matters simple, Vivialla Steranus carries most of everything when it comes to mundane equipment. She doesn't carry arms or armor, nor does the shop have any magical items, scrolls or potions on display.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

By the time they were serving lunch - hearty venison stew with sliced paprika and small, glistening onions - at the Silver Stoat, the group had pretty much gathered to fill their empty bellies (a task made much more pleasant by the fact that the town council was footing the bill). All save the strange woman with the fox, who had disappeared soon after they had left the town hall. Miko Hikaru was at least still there, a quiet shadow tailing Nathali who had been treated to a quite the cokk-and-bull tale of the halfling Perkin Tarimm fighting alongside the infamous Zimar Corsairs. Jarnulf and Sylvia had something to tell, though; the local general store was surprisingly well-stocked with fur-lined clothes, sturdy caps, mittens and water-proof boots. Apparently a few years ago the winter had been quite severe and the recent bout of odd chill in the Border Wood had made Vivialla Steranus break her remnant stock out of mothballs.

That is to say, cold weather outfits are available at standard price, 8gp per person.

I'm hoping to catch the rest of the group up to Avaris in the evening, so please tell me what you will be doing until the evening. Some choices include:
- Gathering intelligence at the Silver Stoat (the geography of the Border Wood, recent events, magic or masterwork items in town, whether or not one of the bar maids is easy...)
- Securing horses
- SHOPPING! :smallbiggrin:
- Getting to know the locals
etc. etc. etc.

Also, everybody roll a Perception check! :smallbiggrin:

Jarnulf

"I hate to say, cousin, but they probably won't have anything you'll find presentable", Jarnulf chuckled as he sipped the innkeeper's Three Devil Ale ( "with hops imported from Cheliax, only a silver a mug" ). "That said, I think they'll do the job", he said, showing the thick coat and sturdy boots sitting next to him.

"There's one more thing I could attend to, but I'll need coin from the rest of you for that. I'll have a talk with the stable master here, and hope that the council woman's talked to him about hiring horses. If I'm lucky, I may be able to talk to him down to a gold piece or two a day. If not... well, then we'll be hoofin' it."

Jarnulf's Perception check [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

Perception DC 18:

You notice the strange gnome from before. The one who got the lot of you involved with Heldren's troubles, the one with the high blow-up of electric blue hair. You have noticed him a few times throughout the day, but this time it seems like he is not just gawking or casting a quick look at you like most of the townspeople seem to do. No, this time he is actively looking and listening in on your conversation as furtively as such a man can. He seems quite giddy and excited, scribbling something in a small notebook every now and then.

[Desril]

Sylvia

After deciding to buy some cold weather gear, Sylvia makes her way back to the Silver Stoat, intending to mingle with the locals, get to know the townsfolk, especially the more attractive ones.

While enjoying the free lunch, There really isn't much better, is there? she converses with the rest of the apparent newcomers who got roped into this rescue mission with her. "If there is an issue with the horses, I have a pair of mules that pull my wagon we can use. Not the swiftest creatures, but if speed was the issue then we would already be leaving."

Perception rolled in OOC, (1d20+3)[23]
Buying a Cold Weather Outfit, -8gp
Talking with the locals and making friends Diplomacy [roll0]


Catching sight of the blue haired gnome again, this time apparently evesdropping, Sylvia stands up from the table, "I'll be right back," and makes her way over toward the gnome in a roundabout way, to avoid attracting his attention. When she makes it to him, the sylph taps him on the shoulder, "I don't think I've caught your name before, I'm Sylvia, who are you?"


If it's needed;
Stealth [roll1]
Diplomacy [roll2]

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Sylvia

Considering the touch of the ethereal in her blood, Sylvia has very little trouble in stealing attention away from the local village beauty holding court in the corner of the inn. The darkhaired girl in surprisingly manly clothes (breeches, tunic, her hair tied back in a ponytail) stared daggers at Sylvia as the cleric had one or two of her puppy-eyed suitors starting a race to the bar, to see who could get her a glass of something more sophisticated than ale the fastest. It might take a while, though, considering that before they got halfway there, they were having a fight on the floor, with the locals laughing and enjoying the show - including some of the tavern girls.

Sylvia can have her pick of bedding partner later that day :smallwink:

The blue-haired gnome was also watching the show, and only noticed Sylvia a moment before she reached him. Making a small "EEP!" sound, the gnome looked like he was going to bolt until Sylvia introduced herself. Looking up, the little man stood up on hios chair so he could look at Sylvia in the chin, and bowed deeply. "Tengezil Frimbocket, artist extraordinaire in all things wooden and decorative, at your most humble service", the flamboyant little man said with a wide smile. Now that he stood up, Sylvia could better see what he was wearing. Clearly master Frimbocket was no poor church mouse, considering the fine quality of his clothes. Like many gnomes, he preferred his clothing in the style of the ostentatious and flamboyant, with stripes and bells and decorations.

Knowl. Local DC 15:
If you look closely, you may notice something that is a touch odd in Tengezil's clothing - beyond the obvious gnomish oddities, of course. Most gnomes you have met have preferred colors that are as bright as possible, even to the point of paying extra to make their clothing really stand out in that respect. Tengezil's clothes are as multi-colored as any other gnome's you've seen - but the shades of the colors tend more towards the pastel than the bright. Icy blue, soft green, red-to-the-point-of-pink... It might be nothing, but he certainly seems to go againt the current as far as gnomish fashion in Taldor is concerned.

[Desril]

Sylvia

Amused at both the tomboyish beauty's obvious irritation and the suitors' impromptu brawl, the sylph considers her options briefly before making use of the distraction to approach the gnome.

Once the introductions are done and Sylvia is fairly certain that he isn't going to try to run away on her, she tries to strike up a conversation before getting to the root issue, "You have an interesting sense of fashion, Mr. Frimbocket. The coloration of your outfit is strikingly different than it typically is, the contrast works well for you. Are you making a statement, or is it just personal preference?"

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

Perception checks
Nathali: (1d20+3)[21]
Balthasar: (1d20+5)[17]

Nathali takes a mouthful of stew and raises an eyebrow at her cousin, while Balthasar stares mournfully at the chunks of venison from her shoulder, turned off by their spicy flavour. "Hardly, cousin. Sure, they're nowhere near as good as papa's own stock, but I'm sure they'll suffice. I'll go have a look once I'm done with this. And once I've popped by the kitchen to see if they can spare something less cooked for his majesty's palate. Worse come to worse, I'll turn Balthasar into a fur coat, hm? Or perhaps those wolf pelts you found might just come in handy, Hikaru."

She nudges her silent companion amiably with an elbow, then catching sight of the furtive gnome who looked as though he'd fallen into a dyer's tub, she takes another deliberate spoonful of stew, watching carefully as Sylvia approaches and engages the little man in banter. That notebook might be worth asking Balthasar to steal later on, if he turned out to be suspicious.

"By the way, cousin. Here." Rummaging within her hood, Nathali shakes out Jarnulf's compass, assorted twigs, and several bird feathers. "Gods above, Balthasar. What the hell have you been putting into my clothes? Did you want me to get all this junk in my hair? You must be tired of living, huh." Scowling at the ermine in mock anger, she hands the compass back to Jarnulf, dangling it over his bowl of stew as she lowers her voice, taking advantage of the gnome's distraction.

"I can help with paying for the horses. In the meanwhile, want to check out our eavesdropper over there? And maybe drop him over some eaves? Because he's been jotting down a whole bunch of things we've been saying."

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Sylvia

The gnomish carpenter seemed a little surprised when Sylvia pointed out his choice of garb. He smiled and laughed a little, lifting the decorative hem of his tunic. "Oh, this old thing? It's... something of a statement, yes. People always expect us to dress like a colorblind peacock, so it is a truly risqué move to try something more subdued. Our local apothecary was worried I might be undergoing the first stages of Bleaching when we first met", he explained, a touch of sadness in his eyes as he mentioned the gnomekind's racial ailment. "Besides, it's something of a trademark for me. I like to use these colors when decorating my work."

DC 10 Sense Motive:
There's something Tengezil is not been honest about... Something about those colours and why he wears them.

*****

Jarnulf

"A wagon and mules. Well, that's a start at least", Jarnulf nodded as Sylvia rose to go look for something - probably one of those boys she was flirting with, the morose Ulfen thought to himself before he turned his attention back to his cousin. A small smile touched his lips when he got his compass back.

"Thank you. Remind me to keep an eye on that furball, lest we end up trying to look for anything smaller than a knife", he spoke up, chuckling a little to himself at an old mempry he had been given about sprites. Thieving little buggers that especially enjoyed shiny things. Wonder if Balthasar's a little fae-touched? he pondered. Or just plain old annoying?

The mention of an eavesdropper shook Jarnulf out of his thoughts, however. He growled as he stood up, looking at the little man busy in conversation with the sylph. A gnome. Was the plot deeper than he had thought? Had the winter-touched been tipped off by a distant refugee cousin from the First World?

"Let's go and find out", he growled as he moved closer to the gnome, trying to listen in on the conversation. Calmly, slowly the Ulfen man approached the gnome from behind, just as the blue-haired little bastard was telling about his choice of clothing of all things.

Jarnulf's Stealth (1d20+8)[26]
Tengezil's Perception (1d20+7)[20]

Jarnulf's Sense Motive (1d20+2)[15]

"He's lying", Jarnulf growled as he moved right behind the gnome, grabbing him by the shoulder. He towered over the little man as he shoved him back on his ass. "How do you want this done?"he spoke in a calm, lowered voice, looking at Sylvia and Nathali if his cousin had come along. "Do we ask him nicely to tell the truth here? Or shall I - or your bodyguard, cousin - ah, 'persuade' him out back?"

Jarnulf's Intimidate (1d20+7)[25]

*****

GM Post

Avaris

Lost in his craft, Avaris probably did not notoce how the majority of his sudden company had gathered around one particular gnome. What might break his concentration briefly, however, was the small 'clunk' of a pint on the table. One of the Stoat's two tavern girls smiled at him.

"Three Devil Ale. From Miss Willowbark", she said, pointing out the dreamy-eyed elf Avaris had spoken to earlier. The green-clad elven alchemist smiled ever so briefly, raised her glass and nodded approvingly.

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris looks startled for a moment, his eyes focusing on the now.

"Whaaat? Who?"

Avaris remembers his manners and raises the glass with a nod to the elven fellow Art practitioner. He signals the tavern maid.

"Please bring the lady one more of whatever she is having. And please, ask her to join me if she feels like it. Her company would be more than welcome."

[Desril]

Sylvia

Smiling in a way not unlike a hunter who knows she's caught her prey, Sylvia's eyes seem to gleam at Jarnulf's question even though she never takes them away from the gnome. "Now, now, there's no need for that is there? I'm sure that our friend here didn't mean to lie to a servant of Savored Sting. The goddess of revenge does not take kindly to such things after all. He surely just got mixed up and meant to say something else, he just had the wrong words slip out, isn't that right?"


Aid another to the intimidate. Not all intimidation have to be open threats after all, and the implication of a goddess' wrath is pretty intimidating.

[roll0]

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Avaris

The tavern maid nodded and quickly rushed off to the elf. Over the general hubbub and laughter of the tavern it was close to impossible to tell what exactly was being said, but the elven woman smiled, said a few words with a polite gesture of dismissal and returned to her drink.

The girl herself returned a moment or two later, having served some of the other customers on the way. "She said she didn't need none, sir", the freckled young woman said, holding her tray. "An' she said she didn't want to trouble you none while you was... working", she continued, giving a little frightened look at the various small vials of liquids, powders and other tools of Avaris's Art, laying on the table. "She said she was gonna work late today, so of you wanted to talk or compare notes, you could easily find her. Willowbark Apothecary, sir, two doors down, past the herb garden, she said."

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris once more nods towards the lady. A true Practioner, to understand the need for privacy. If he was ever to come back, he would surely look her up.

I think that Avaris will not have time tomorrow to visit her and try soliciting her help to understand the formulaes. Or better yet, trade her for them. Yes?

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Sylvia, Jarnulf, (Nathali and Hikaru?)

"What? No, no, of co---!" Tengezil started, suddenly looking much, much paler with the big folk surrounding him. He winced a little when Jarnulf gripped the back of his neck, and lowered his voice. "I--- I meant no insult. It's just... look, can we go outside and talk, please? This... this isn't really something I'd like to spread around. Please?" the little gnome begged, suddenly looking actually scared and looking around.

[Desril]

Sylvia

"Of course," she glances up to Jarnulf, "Why don't you let go of the poor fellow so we can go somewhere more private to have this conversation?"

Assuming the Ulfen does as requested, Sylvia stands and motions to the gnome, "Lead the way."

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Sylvia, Jarnulf, (Nathali and Hikaru)

Once Jarnulf released his grip, Tengezil jumped off his chair and made his way outside of the Stoat. He did not try to make a run for it, but instead walked calmly and steadily, still clutching his notebook. The excitable gnome was eerily quiet now, probably due to the angry, suspicious glare Jarnulf was giving him.

Leading the group across the street to a quaint house with its eaves and doorways decorated with intricate carvings and the same pastel colours that the gnome favoured, Tengezil opened the door leading to what looked like a carpentry workshop sized for a human child - or a gnome. "Quickly, please. I don't want my wife and children to worry."

Once inside as comfortably as can be (master Frimbocket produced some normal-sized chairs, saying they were for his clients), the gnome sighed. "Okay... I'll come clean. I lied to you, miss. I didn't think anyone would recognize the style of my childhood home, certainly not here. You... caught me off-guard."

Sitting on his workbench, Tengezil bit his lower lip. "I know this is going to look bad, really bad. But I swear on my children's lives it's not what you think. The people here think this style is from Wispil, where I say I'm from."

"It's not. It's an Irriseni fashion."

*****

Jarnulf

"WHAT?!" Jarnulf bellowed, his eyes lighting up with rage. "Du lille jevel, jag ske---", he started in Skald, standing up and his hand grabbing the handle of his back-bound greatsword. Pulling the sword out, however, made him cut his words short, as he had barely pulled a hand's length out before the pommel hit the low-hanging rafters.

Skald:
"You little bastard, I'm going to---"

[Desril]

Sylvia

Seeing Jarnulf try and fail to draw his blade, Sylvia reprimands him in his own tongue, "Ro deg ned, fekter!"

Skald

"Calm yourself, swordsman!"


"I think I understand why our little friend here was nervous about telling the truth if this is how you react. Just because he's Irriseni doesn't mean he's your enemy, does he look like a Winter Witch to you?""

Turning away from Jarnulf, Sylvia addresses the gnome again, "Now, Master Frimbocket, if you can excuse my companion do you think you can help us? Given what you probably heard about what we're doing and that you told us about your homeland, I can only assume that you know something or at least have an idea."


Diplomacy! [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

"But that's the thing!" Tengezil mewled, clearly terrified out of his wits by Jarnulf's violent reaction. "I don't know anything! I haven't been in Irrisen since I was a boy. My parents... my brother... they died when we tried to cross the border into Mammoth Lord country", the gnomish man sniffled miserably.

"All this... I don't know anything about any fairies or witches or anything like that. And I've kept quiet about being from Irrisen just because how he reacted", he added, nodding towards Jarnulf as the Ulfen man cursed and managed to dislodge his sword's pommel from the rafters. "It isn't that rare, you know. So I lied where I was from and made my living as a carpenter, just like my dad. You people... I was just so excited to see new faces, and hear tales from the Border Wood. I was listening in and making sketches, trying to come up with something new. See?" he asked and opened the leatherbound journal, pushing it into Sylvia's lap.

The journal was stained with varnish and ink, but the pages Tengezil opened showed profile sketches of you, with random notes in Taldane and Gnomish ("Why doesn't he smile?" next to Jarnulf, "She looks like fun. Is she magic? Got to be magic" next to Nathali, and so on), along with smaller pictures, like a chicken-legged house next to a tiny sketch of Hikaru, or a quick sketch of two ermine chasing each other in a circle.

[Desril]

Sylvia

Grinning and glancing up to the large angry Ulfen when she reads the note next to his sketch, Sylvia accepts the Gnome's words at face value. "Not everyone who comes from a bad home is bad themselves," she says to everyone but Jarnulf in particular, "I believe you. But I'm afraid I must ask you to destroy these sketches. The fey are sneaky little creatures, I'd rather not risk them stealing your journal and knowing what we look like before we even figure out what's going on."

Holding the journal out to Tengezil she continues, "And if it were not too much trouble, might I ask if you kept any souvenirs of your old homeland? Anything that might help us in the Border Wood if it is as frozen as we've been told."


Diplomacy [roll0]

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

Having only suggested dropping the gnome over the eaves in jest, Nathali is stunned to find Jarnulf taking her quite seriously with his threatening interrogation methods, but checks herself in time and does nothing more than warily watch her cousin go about his business. He had been away for many years, raised with what was it Uncle Hyglak had said - woodsmen, savage and silent and much too serious for their own good? Whether Jarnulf was unstable or disturbed in any way, or if he had learned to wield his anger as precisely as any surgeon with a bone knife, this would be news worth bearing back to the rest of the family back in Jol.

When the gnome reveals his Irriseni lineage though, Nathali's slim brows arch in anger as she clenches her fists by her side.

"I'm not exactly inclined to believe your story, little master," she comments icily, raising her chin ever so slightly. "If you're so afraid of others knowing where you come from, why dress the way you do? Are you proud of coming from a land in the cruel thrall of the witches? Or do you have something else you're not telling us?"

Sense Motive [roll0]

At the sight of the journal, Nathali merely snorts and makes a face. She was so much more good-looking than that. Just as well Sylvia was telling him to burn the damn book. Just tearing out the page would suffice though.

Balthasar, on the other hand, is sufficiently intrigued by the smell of varnish to scamper down Nathali's arm and onto Sylvia's lap, sniffing curiously at the book. He certainly doesn't seem to mind having had his portrait drawn.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

For Nathali:
You are absolutely certain that the strange little man still harbors Irriseni sympathies. He doth protest too loudly, after all... He might even be a spy for the winter-touched, judging by the colour of his hair.

Tengezil's lips turned down when Sylvia asked him to destroy the pages. "But... but I would have done justice on you, of course. I just wanted to come up with new ideas for my designs, that's all.", he started to protest, looking at Sylvia with pleading eyes. "How... how about if I burn these now? And when you come back, you let me draw sketches of you? Would that be okay?" he offered, his pointy ears and sharp eyebrows perking up as he practically stared at Sylvia, begging for a chance to practice his art.

That perking up, however, was shortlived once Nathali spoke up. The gnome winced, looking like her words had been like a physical swat to the face. "No, no, of course not! It's just... when I got to meet more gnomes, they were impressed with my colors. They said it was bold and daring to try something new. So I just lied and said it was a style from Wispil. Very few gnomes leave Wispil, I hear. Because of the big people everywhere else", he continued, giving an accusatory glance at Jarnulf. "And I use Irriseni carving style in my work because... well, people seem to like it", he said, picking up a two-foot long plank that was apparently supposed to be part of a decorative eave. The work was still unfinished, but the pattern was there: soft curves and holes and clear-lined half-circles that suggested a pattern not unlike a decorated gingerbread.

"Can you really fault me for that?"

*****

Kn. Local (1d20+2)[4]
Sense Motive (1d20+2)[16]

Seeing the futility in trying to draw his blade in the confined space, and the apparent lack of fighting spirit in his comrades, Jarnulf sighed deeply and listened in on the prattling. While he had spent more than his share of days in Wispil, the migration or lack thereof of gnomes to the world beyond the Verduran had never been his concern. Still, the gnome didn't sound like he was pulling their leg...

"I think he's telling the truth, cuz."

[Desril]

Sylvia

Flattered at the idea of an artist pleaing for her to be sketched, Sylvia looks at her companions to see if they have anything to say against it. At Jarnulf's words, figuring that if the man who just tried to lop off the gnome's head wouldn't believe him without cause, Sylvia speaks up again, this time looking at Nathali, "It lets him stand out and look daring while reminding him of home, there's nothing wrong with that, don't you agree?"

Assuming there's no objection from the others, Sylvia looks at Tengezil, "I think your offer is fair, I'll agree to model for a few sketches after we return on the condition that you burn these and don't make any more drawings of us until that day. Do we have a deal?"

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." Nathali refuses to be swayed by the sylph's sweet words, glaring sidelong at Balthasar as she gestures for him to return to her shoulder.

She waves Jarnulf's comment off, mentally running through what she could recall of the morning's happenings. "You were the one who volunteered us for this mission. You turned to us. You opened your mouth to draw attention to us. Not your town's militia, but us. And from there, it was difficult to refuse. What's your game? Why did you point to us?"

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Tengezil's look of relief was quickly wiped away when Nathali started pressing on. Clearly, the little man was more than a little frightened of the pair of statuesque Ulfen - not to mention the fiendish bodyuguard quietly following one of them.

"Lady, did you see the state that northman was in?" he asked, apparently finding a little backbone after all. "No offence to Mistress Teppen and all, but the bravest militia man I've met in Heldren was a guy who got lucky shanking a boar."

"Besides... you lot stood out. I mean, really stood out. No offence, but you do. In the way that if there's something nasty lurking in the Border Wood, you could go in there, beat it and come back to the Stoat to tell about it. People would be talking about that for months", Tengezil continued, his ears perking up again with eagerness as he looked Nathali in the eye. "Heldren's not really a hotspot for any kind of activity that doesn't include farming or hunting. All I wanted was to give my fellow locals something to talk about. Something my kods might remember from their childhood days."

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

Nathali snorts and crosses her arms, tilting her head arrogantly and staring at the gnome down the length of her nose. "We are Ulfen, little master. We do not exist to be told tales about, nor to be immortalised in your petty art. We make our own legends. We sing our own songs. And should we live on in memories, whether in glory or death, it will be on an adventure of our own choosing. Not yours."

She glances up at Sylvia. "The pages are yours to deal with. Burn them, make paper toys out of them, do as you will. And next time, little master..." Nathali scowls and crouches down so that she is looking the gnome straight in the eye. "If all you wanted was a portrait or stories, the polite thing to do in civilised countries, unless my father taught me wrong, was to request permission beforehand. Understood?"

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

When Nathali was done talking, Tengezil had all the appearance of a scolded child - which, considering his size would have passed for a disguise were it not for his whiskers of a moustache. Sighing, he grabbed a hold of a handful of pages and started ripping them off, letting them fall on the floor among the sawdust and wood chippings.

"Yes, ma'am", he said with a saddened sigh as another page was ripped off. "But please believe me when I say... I never intended any trouble or insult. I just got so excited", he added with a sigh.

Perception DC 20:
On one of the torn pages, there seems to be some manner of arcane markings. To be precise, there's a series of six sigils, each contained within a stylized octagon, like a cube whose corners have been sharply cut.

Spellcraft DC 18:
The arcane marks appear to be of the abjuration school, and the constellation of these particular symbols seems to be one intended for protecting their user (or wielder?) from projectiles.

*****

Jarnulf Hjallarsson

Jarnulf's Perception (1d20+7)[24]

"Cousin", Jarnulf spoke up, surprisingly sternly as he placed his hand on his kinswoman's shoulder. There was a new sharpness in his voice, a new glimmer in his otherwise almost sleepy gaze. "The little master has given us his fair explanation. Leave him be", he spoke, staring Nathali down. It was almost like he was commanding her to stand down.

As he had stepped closer, Jarnulf had stepped on one of the discarded pages on the floor. Bending down a little to pry the sketch of the alchemist surrounded by stylized clouds of smoke and bubbles, he frowned when he noticed what was on the other side. "This isn't Gnomish", he said, looking up at Tengezil. "Or Irriseni. What is that?" he demanded, showing the rumpled page with its two lines of arcane runes, each framed from eight sides.

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

Making a face at Jarnulf, Nathali holds out her hand for Balthasar to clamber back on to, electing to remain silent for now. Perhaps Jarnulf had been away from the homeland for too long.

When the slip of paper falls and Jarnulf points it out, she frowns, not quite recognising the nature of the runes. "Something for your craft then, little master? Or more relics from your homeland?" She asks, a tad too innocently.

[Desril]

Sylvia

Noticing the symbol when Jarnulf pointed it out, the sylph sat silently while Nathali questioned the gnome further. Not knowing what it could possibly be, she decides to let the arcanist take the lead, she does seem to have calmed down at least. Not wanting to interrupt in case the symbol happens to be important, Sylvia merely looks quizzically at Frimbocket and waits for his answer.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

"Huh?" Tegezil asked, looking up from the torn papers and at the particular page Nathali was showing him. After looking at the page for a moment, he chuckled and shook his head.

"Neither, actually", he answered as he gathered the rest of the torn pages under his arm. "Those are from a... specialty item mistress Steranus has in her shop. Some kind of a protective charm, she said it was when I asked about it - she knows how I like to hear about all things new and unusual. Looked like a die to me, only with one of those symbols on each side. I was thinking of incorporating some in my work, but decided against it in the end. Or rather, the missus was worried I might accidentally blow up the workshop carving those onto lintels."

[Desril]

Sylvia

"Thank you for your cooperation, Master Frimbocket. I'll be sure to honor our agreement once we've returned." Turning toward the sorceress of their group, "A protective charm, huh? Do you think we should look into it? We could probably use all the protective charms we can find if they actually work."

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

"Indeed," mutters Nathali, slightly rattled at not being able to recognise the symbols for what they were. "Protection... Warding... such things might be good."

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

Jarnulf merely wrinkled his nose at the arcane sigils scrawled on the gnome's notebook. Such symbols meant next to nothing to him; he couldn't read them, and he admittedly had a sense of aversion to them. Somehow the arcane always seemed... off-putting to him.

"You go and find out about that if you wish. Maybe get those sold as well, right, Tight-Lips?" he asked Hikaru with a hint of a smile, using a nickname he had burdened her with as he nodded towards the wolf pelts. "Me, I'll go and... see about our other business", he continued, choosing not to reveal his destination in Tengezil's presence. Nathali already looked like she was ready to blast the little man with lightning bolts; the last thing any of them needed was to give her an excuse.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

The evening

With Nathali apparently convinced enough that Tengezil was not a plant of the White Witches to study the agrarian life in southern Taldor, the group dispersed for the evening, with Sylvia and her silent bodyguard going to the general store to learn more about the "protective charm". And while the shopkeeper was willing to part with (along with a string of complaints about a High Sentinel) who had special ordered the item and not paid for it, she would not do so without a fair recompense. And the sum of gold she asked for it was definitely beyond any that the Ulfen and the fiend-touched could hope that the town council was willing to cover. If there was anything good to be found at the situation, it was that the general store was as Jarnulf had promised: clean and well-stocked. Plus, the shopkeep had offered a fair price for Hikaru's wolf pelts.

Otherwise, the evening was spent quietly by the Ulfen-blooded and the chicken-legged warrior. There was very little to do in a place like Heldren, but at least the local tavern was well-stocked with ale and stew to keep them well-fed, and enough local colour in the form of passing hunters, a scant handful of inhumans and one young man with delusions of being a bard to keep them borderline amused until the Garimoses declared last call.

If you wish, make a Diplomacy check to hear local gossip.

Strangely enough, though, Sylvia wasn't there when the rest of the group packed close to the Silver Stoat's fireplace to keep warm for the night. No, the sylph cleric had spent her evening in other pursuits - ones that might seem almost contradictory to anyone but the faithful of the deity she revered. A good time before dusk she had spent in the Erastili temple, aiding Elder Safander and his wife in treating Yuln Oerstag's wounds. While none of the Ulfen man's wounds were no longer life-threatening, they were still painful, especially when his bandages had to be changed. A good part of the evening was actually spent trying to keep the man from thrashing, whether by words or restraints, while the half-elven cleric treated his black-and-blue extremities.

All that had been hard work, and the local clergyuman was not ungrateful. Besides promising a one-fifth discount in his services and the minor magic items he had for sale, he also gave some healing potions for free to his sylph colleague, expressing a hope that she and her comrades would return safe and sound.

The Erastili temple now offers a 20% discount on services and magic items. Available items are:
1 x wand of magic weapon (24 charges)
1 x scroll of aid
1 x wand of create water (26 charges)

Also, he gives Sylvia two potions of CLW for her troubles.

As for how she spent the rest of the evening... the girl in the tunic and trousers proved to be one of the habitual visitors at the Stoat, though not a heavy drinker judging by the relative stability of her steps as she left the inn late that night. She and Sylvia ended talking (or rather, arguing) about the court of suitors Xanthippe (that was her name) had surrounding her. Maybe she had had a little too much to drink, or maybe Sylvia's deity was showing her favour to one of her servants, because what started as spiteful glances and mean-spirited insinuations ended in Xanthippe's bed with heavy pants and deep, almost pained moans that she desperately tried to suppress.

The following morning

Wiser from Menander Garimos's rude wake-up call the day before, those sleeping in the Stoat were up early, as was Menander's wife, Kale. While a full breakfast could not be provided, she would not take 'no' for an answer when providing each of the early departees a mug of hot tea and a bundle containing bread, cheese and dried venison, a proper travelling breakfast.

"Say, has anyone seen Sylvia?" Jarnulf asked as he wiped his eyes, walking towards the stables where their rented horses - three gold pieces a day - should be waiting for them.

*****

Sylvia

The maverick priestess found herself waking to a completely different set of sounds, namely an older man trying the door. "Xanthe? Are you awake? Why have you locked the door? Get up your arse, lass, we've worked to do."

"Xanthe" woke up as well to the sounds, murmuring something incoherent behind her wildly thrown hair until she saw Sylvia, naked as she was, in her bed. "Oh crud", she cursed, quickly gathering some of the covers around her frame. "It's dad. You have to get out. Now!" she hissed under her breath, quickly moving to the window in her sparsely decorated room.

"Xanthippe Euphram!" the voice behind the door grew angrier. "Do you have a boy in there?! Because if you do, I swear I'll wring the little bugger's neck for ---"

"No, father! There's no boys in here!" the girl called out. Well, that much was certainly true. She pushed her window open and picked up some of Sylvia's discarded clothes, throwing them unceremoniously out the window - and into what sounded like hitting a small heap. "I'm just, ah, feeling a little light-headed. Tried one too many Three Devils last night", she tried to laugh before looking at Sylvia with anxious eyes. "What the Hells are you waiting for, a map? Out the window, now!"

It's a ten-foot drop from the first-storey window. Behind the door is a pissed off father.

EDIT: And yes, unless Sylvia has some very kinky ideas about sex, she be nekkid and not wearing her armor :smalltongue:

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

Avaris is in a foul mood, still sulking because of his failure last night. He is sullen and rather formal.


"No, no since yesterday. She was staying here?"

[North_Ranger]

Jarnulf

"Well, there isn't another tavern in town. Not even a competing inn", Jarnulf answered the alchemist with a shrug. "Can't imagine where else she would have gone for the night. Except the temple, maybe. Some of these religious types love spending nights in prayer and all that rot."

[Desril]

Sylvia

Sitting up in bed, Sylvia watches Xanthe's panicked efforts to hide the sylph's presence from her father with a faint smile. At the girl's worried stare the sylph effortlessly floats her way over to the window, resisting the urge to correct her by cracking a joke about trying one too many she-devils and not bothering with coverings, What's there to be ashamed of? Not like she didn't see everything last night anyway. She also doesn't bother using her feet for that matter as she lets the air itself carry her and looks out the window to see her clothes, previously much cleaner, lying outside. Choosing to tease the girl a bit in retribution, she gives her a light peck on the cheek and whispers, "Don't worry, I'll handle your father. It'll be alright."

Whispering a quick prayer to The Lady in the Room for help in soothing the father's inevitable anger, a not all that uncommon situation for those who more actively worship the goddess of trickery and lust, Sylvia walks back over to the bed and yawns in an exaggeratedly loud manner and speaks up more than clearly enough to be heard outside. "Come now, you didn't drink that much Xanthe, but if your head is bothering you just come back over here, I'll make you feel better."


Casting Enhanced Diplomacy for +2 to my next diplo check as long as it's within the next minute.

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

Having acquiring for herself a sturdy set of winter clothing like the kind Jarnulf had shown her, Nathali musters a smile despite the early hour to thank the innkeep's wife for her consideration. "Be sure that I will tell my kin of your hospitality should they pass this way, though perhaps your husband might wish to reconsider his method of waking guests up in the morning," she says as cheerfully as she can manage, giving Kale a brief wave as they leave the Stoat.

In response to Jarnulf's enquiry, Nathali shrugs lightly, careful not to wake the snoozing ermine curled up in her hood. She hadn't known Sylvia for all that long, but it was probably safe to say that the woman wasn't that kind of religious type. "Well, hopefully we'll find her before we head out. Or she'll find us. It would be a pity if she'd overslept. Wherever she is."

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Sylvia

The stunned silence that followed Sylvia's loud proclamation was only made sweeter by the look of absolute shock on Xanthippe's face. Her eyes looked like they were about to bulge out of their sockets, her face had gone paler than the sheets she had wrapped around her athletic figure, and her mouth was agape like she was trying to swallow an apple in one go.

What Sylvia might not have expected, however, was the viper-like speed in which the young woman grabbed a pewter washing dish from the table and flung it in the sylph's general direction. The dish hit the wall with a bang and enough force to show a sizeable dent, and its cold contents splashed over Sylvia.

"GET OUT!" Xanthippe screamed like a harpy, her eyes aflame and her previous paleness replaced by a deep blush that only a combination of rage and embarrassment could produce. "GET OUT BEFORE I---", the girl continued yelling enraged, describing several quite unpleasant eventualities (some of which included forced bodily intrusions) that would take place if Sylvia chose not to vacate the premises, all the while her hand looked for something else to throw at the naked priestess. And judging by the roars and the crashes at the doorway, it sounded like the enraged young woman's father was using his body as a key.


Everyone else

Unaware of the ruckus taking place not too far away, the rest of the group had arrived to Heldren's livery stables. Its doors were still closed due to the early morning hour and the slight chill in the wind, but at least they weren't alone. A young, auburn-haired man, his cloak pulled tightly around his body, was leaning against the wall, truing to catch as little wind as possible. He sneezed a little and got up when he noticed the group, grumbling a little to himself.

"Mistress Imirras said you was supposed to get horses, then", the young man said as he looked at the three humans and the tiefling with all the enthusiasm of someone who'd rather be in bed than standing around all early like this, thank you very much. "Three gold pieces per horse. Up front."

[Desril]

Sylvia

Ducking out of the way of the water dish, though not entirely needing to from where it ended up landing, the sylph tries not to look too irritated, and tries even harder to resist another joking comment And now I'm wet again and it's all your fault. Seeing Xanthe reach for a water pitcher however, the implication of what's about to happen painfully obvious, Sylvia whispers rapidly to her, this time trying not to be heard by her father. Figuring that there isn't time for subtlety given the situation, she spells out her plan as calmly as she can in the hopes that the younger girl will listen to reason and a soothing voice rather than react on raw emotion. "Calm down! I want to help here, just give me a chance to talk to him. I might be able to get you a little more freedom so you don't have to to wake up terrified when your dad knocks on the door after a fun night!"


Diplomacy (Enhanced!) [roll0]

If she looks like she's starting to calm down, Sylvia will quickly wrap the nearest viable cloth around her into a makeshift dress before dear old dad breaks his way in.

Edit; And then recast Enhanced Diplomacy!

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Sylvia

For a moment it looks like that Xanthippe is about to grab the water pitcher by its neck and fling it in Sylvia's face (quite literally so), but the sylph's words seem to make the young Taldan woman hesitate. She frowns and stares at the naked sylph, until she nods slowly and lets her arm drop - at least the one nopt holding the covers around her body.

"Very well", she mutters, clearly hesitant but also curious as to what the paleskinned sylph had in mind. She then quickly reaches for her discarded breeches and tunic, starting to put them on as Sylvia casts her spell.

The two women are barely decent when the door finally gives way with a pained creak. Xanthippe lets out a little scream when she sees her father barge into the room like a pissed-off aurochs, a tall man whose dark hair and strong features echoed in a more feminine fashion in the face of his daughter. Sylvia might recognize him from the day before; the village smith, one of the people gathered in front of the Erastili temple to hear the news. The fact that the man has arms like hamhocks and a torso that looks like it could bounce off arrows even under the strained shirt are of course also dead give-aways of the man's chosen profession.

Which might also explain why his daughter was more on the side of athletic and wiry, rather than thin and willowy...

"Where is he? Where is that boy? I know I heard someone ca-haaaa...", the angered smith started, stepping past the remnants of what had once been a door, only to be cut short when he noticed who his daughter's "fancy man" really was. And there was the familiar resemblance again, with the bulged eyes and the gaping mouth when he tried to figure out what in the name of Iomedae's tits he was looking at.

[Desril]

Sylvia

Remaining calm and straight faced despite being in a scene more suited to a bad bardic tale than reality, Sylvia watches the smith as he bursts in and roars angrily, waiting for the moment when he connects what he knows with what he's seeing and stumbles trying to register it. Seeing him mirror his daughter's face from a moment ago, Sylvia speaks up, intending to get her point across before the overly protective father has a chance to recover.

"Mister Euphram, it's a pleasure to meet you, though I hope you'll forgive me for not being properly dressed." Sylvia smiles sweetly at him, trying to look harmless and embarrassed to soften him up, "I'm sorry if I worried you, but your charming daughter was in good hands, I wouldn't have let any boys do anything inappropriate with Xanthe here, but as you can see, no one here but us girls." Pausing for a second she looks around the room and after spotting the dent where the water dish hit the wall she looks back at the father and continues, "Honestly though, I'm not sure you have anything to worry about even if a boy snuck in. Do you really think a girl as beautiful and strong and confidant in Xanthippe here could ever be taken advantage of by some play boy who didn't have her interests at heart? We haven't known each other long, but I think she'd be hard to trick like that, and if someone tried, she'd beat them herself, don't you agree?"


(God, I shouldn't have picked Cyan, that color is so hard to read on these white backgrounds!)

Am I laying it on too thick? Should I give him a chance to talk? Let's let Diplomacy (Enhanced Edition) decide! [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Sylvia

"Gods know I just tried", Sylvia muttered to herself, tightening the laces of her shirt as quickly as she could while listening in on the conversation. She stared briefly at Sylvia's back, clearly still ashamed and angry over the sylph's decision to make things difficult for her.

"Uh... I guess not", the smith managed to answer to Sylvia's verbiage, or at least his frazzled brain started to connect the dots, starting with the lack of anyone with a pair of balls in the bedroom - save for himself, of course. "But that still doesn't explain what in Hells you were going here", master Euphram continued, narrowing his eyes and cracking his muscles. He wasn't so easily fooled; he was simply trying to figure out what to do now, as the options of beating the tar out of Sylvia and marching the two off to the temple for a crossbow wedding were off the table. Or at least, the latter was; at least in Heldren.

[Desril]

Sylvia

Kind of dense, isn't he? Not saying the thought aloud however, she continues, "Come now, your daughter is a grown and lovely woman, I don't think it proper to tell you what the two of us discussed in private last night, do you? It would be humiliating if your mother asked you that wouldn't it, Mister Euphram? I think it's just best to say that we enjoyed each others company and let that be the end of it. But what I had been a boy and Xanthe and I were in love? Do you not trust her to make the right choice for her own happiness?"


No diplomacy needed right?

I'm worried about being too blunt here...overprotective fathers are like unstable proximity bombs in an earthquake.

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

The tall Ulfen woman sighs as she digs into her purse for the requisite amount. "Guess some of us need horses. Not like certain lazy ermines who get carried around all the time," she mutters aloud to the bulge in the crook of her hood. "You're going to get plump and tubby around the middle, Balthasar, like a melon in a sock. And then how will you chase after rabbits, you tell me?"

"Should we wait for Sylvia? Or perhaps she decided to skip town like the lady with the fox yesterday."

[ProudGrognard]

Avaris

"Well, here is my due. And please put some more feed for me, at least six days' worth. I do not know how long it will be."

Avaris pays and then looks around.

"I say we wait a while. Perhaps get a good breakfast and a nice cup of tea and then head out. She might be caught in something."

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Sylvia

"Discuss? Is that what they're calling it these days?" smith Euphram asked, clearly still not above the idea of throwing the sylph out the window.

"DAD!" Xanthippe hissed, turning a lovely shade of red again, but her father was still focused on chewing the uninvited guest.

"And I would think my daughter knew better than to let some randy boy - or gal - betwixt her legs. Clearly, I was mistaken", he added, giving Xanthippe a look of thorough disappointment and sadness. "I was proud that she kept her suitors at bay. But this..."

Now it looked like Xanthippe was about to start crying, the emotions of both father and daughter jumping up and down like a bullfrog on a hot skillet.

*****

The others

"Whatever", the tired or simply bored young man said as he took the monies and stepped into the stables. The scent of fresh hay, overlaid by the powerful yet common odour of horses wafted out of the doors as he went and picked up two pairs of horses, already saddled and bridled for the morning. After he had brought the horses over, he went to get Avaris's feed with all the expeditiousness of a languid tortoise.


*****



Jarnulf

"I once saw a travelling menagerie with all kinds of weird animals from Garund", Jarnulf remarked as he put his lightened purse away and picked up the reins of his horse. "I never thought sloths could breed with humans", he said in his usual deadpan manner, shaking his head.

"I agree with Avaris. Wait a little longer, though I doubt we will be getting much breakfast beyond our bundles. Besides, the locals might start looking us funny if we tarry too long. Wait a little longer and then head out, she'll catch us if she's coming.

"And if not", he added, looking at Nathali. "More spoils and glory for the rest of us", he added with a wry smile. Despite his years in these southern lands, Jarnulf was still an Ulfen at heart.

[maggie_mcknife]

Nathali

"More feed for this horse too, thanks you," calls Nathali after the sleepyhead stablehand. "And of course," she replies to Jarnulf, flashing him a wicked grin. "In fact, I doubt very much that the council would mind if we liberated the miscreants of any items of value that they might possess."

[Desril]

Sylvia

No longer bothering with the pretense of being sweet or innocent, Sylvia glares at the smith as he expresses his disappointment. The previous coy warmth of her voice replaced with an icy sting, as she talks about a father's duty and remembers her own childhood. "And just what is wrong with this," she asks as she moves to Xanthippe's side and places an arm around the girl. "A father's job is to protect his children and make sure that they're ready for the world, and you did an excellent job there, Xanthe is probably the strongest girl in Heldren, but it is not a father's duty to try to chase off the people their children want to spend time with or to make his children cry."

She pauses momentarily to smile at Xanthe before returning her gaze to her father and continuing, "She's a grown woman, free to make her own choices, and that includes how and with whom she wants to spend her nights. If you can't see that you're just going to make life more difficult for the both of you."


I might've come on too strong there, but he needs to step down.

Hopefully that 30 Diplo managed to make him indifferent so I can make a request. If I can...[roll0] to convince him to let Xanthe live her own life and stop bothering her about romantic affairs. (I can't get in an enhanced diplomacy on that one, can't really cast a spell mid-speech, but hopefully I get enough without it)

[Miraqariftsky]

HPFFFTT!---fwpeh-ahhkt!

At Jarnulf's joking,
There suddenly spews, choking
A stream of hot tea.

Seizing a corner
Of her much-darned bearskin cloak
Swift wipes some stray spots.

Excusing herself
Hikaru bows--- and then wipes
Own mess with cloak's edge.

Hangs her head and groans.
Having washed down th'venison
Sets down a clean cup.

Hikaru agrees
With Jarnulf in a deep nod
Looks to Nathali---

---Keeps her tail ready
In case Balthasar's coming

Dark eyes keep wary
While her fists paw her scrolled spear

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Sylvia

"Now wait just a moment", Euphram growled, clearly not impressed by Sylvia's eloquence. "I may not be the best of fathers, but I will not take advice from some half-naked stru---"

"Dad, stop. Please", Xanthippe suddenly spoke up, stepping closer to his father - and was Sylvia seeing wrong or was the young woman placing herself between the sylph and the muscular smith? "It's you and me who've got to talk, not you and Sylvia. Go downstairs, I'll join you in a moment."

"But Xanthe, she---"

"Dad. Please", the young woman interrupted her father, giving her that doe-eyed look that only a daughter could give. "Just go, okay? I promise I'll be with you before you know it."

For a moment the smith Euphram looked like he was torn between his desire to beat up Sylvia and his daughter's plea. In the end, the latter won, and the big man stalked off, muttering curses as he went. As his figure disappeared, Xanthippe sighed with relief and turned to look at Sylvia.

"You'd better go too... and stay out of his sight until his temper cools down. I'll have a word with him and see if I can persuade him to not beat you up", she spoke softly, tying her hair back again. With a small smile, she leaned closer to Sylvia and gave her a kiss on her lips---

---followed by a sharp tug of her hair so that the two young women's eyes were at the same level.

"But if you breathe a word to anyone, anyone what happened last night and this morning, I'll break every bone in your body", Xanthippe purred, her voice soft, almost purring while she stared right into Sylvia's eyes. There was no doubt that she would carry out her threat without a moment's hesitation if Sylvia started blabbering about her "conquest".

"Now get before I change my mind", she added before slapping Sylvia once on her backside, nodding towards the window.

[Desril]

Sylvia

Impressed that Xanthe had decided to take a stand, Sylvia stood back and let the girl do it, wondering if this was the first time she'd decided to talk back to her father like this. Letting her take the lead, Sylvia kisses back and winks, "I hope I'll see you when I get back to town. Mind if I get dressed in here though, or must I risk a causing a more public scandal?"

That said, she makes her way over to the window and looks around to see if there are any potential witnesses, waiting for Xanthe's answer before leaping out and floating down to pick up her clothes.


If she doesn't object, Sylvia will be swooping down, grabbing her clothes and then going back in to get dressed, preferably waiting until she's pretty sure nobody is looking.

If Xanthe does object, she'll toss the rest of her stuff out the window (can't let anyone else handle the scythe, lest they want to risk getting sick, so she'll just carry that one down), swoop down, and get dressed as quickly as possible.

In either case, once geared up and with her things, Sylvia will make her way to the stables to buy feed and then track down the rest of the party if they've moved on.