E6: Frost Vortex of Azalin!

[fireinthedust]

You and your companions have been adventuring for some time. The world has only just begun to recover from a massive upheaval called "The Ruin", and in the centuries since the various city states have formed and built themselves up from virtually nothing, on the bones of the old.

The current period of expansion is due in no small part to the Way Gates, dimensional portals that instantly teleport people from one dais to the next, so long as they are keyed to one another. A waygate from the ancient times exists in each of the City States, leading to an extraordinary magical dimensional Labyrinth with a small town called Waygate. From this hub-city adventurers, merchants, tradesmen and scoundrels travel from Land to Land.

One such land was discovered only a decade ago. Dubbed Azalin, there is no sign of intelligent life. Only leagues of excellent forests for lumber, mountains for mines, and great lakes for fishing. Over the years a great number of villages have formed further and further into Azalin, where labourers have been in great need for want of a fresh start. Life is hard but work is plentiful. Save the cold winters, it is an excellent frontier... or was...

There is a massive reward posted in Waygate for adventurers who could determine the cause of why some of the furthest villages have gone silent. Abruptly and without warning, communication suddenly went dead, and no messengers have returned. As well, the winters have slowly been getting colder. This year the summer was little warmer than an autumn before crashing back into flurries of snow.

You and your band have collected in a local Inn in Waygate. The topic? Whether or not to proceed to Azalin and attempt to discover why the frontier has gone silent in this empty expanse of wilderness. Is the danger worth the risk?

The Dunn Wright Inn in Waygate is a watering hole for adventurers like yourselves. All the patrons are merchant's guards or adventurers, a wide array of races: mostly human, hobbit, shifters, dwarves, forest elves, and Jotun, with one or two Dragons and Noble Elves sitting with their various bands. It is crowded, as always, with bards performing on stage. Ale and wine flow freely from the barrels behind the bar, and wanton wenches (and menches?) serve the flagons. There is a wall filled with calls to arms on sheets of parchment. The Azalin trek, as it is called, is simply the talk of the town: 100gp a head to discover the cause, a truly outrageous sum for such a mission!

[darklink_shadow]

I don't get what all the debate is about. Samson rumbled between gulps of ale, announcing his intentions to small assembled group of allies he had. There are people in need, which should convince the people who care about that stuff; there is mystery, which should convince people who care about that stuff; and there is danger, possible enemies to crush and a chance to die in glorious battle, which convinces me. Plus, there is good pay. I'm going.

He finished his flagon, and grabs the next one of five he had ordered previously. I'm sure you aren't cowardly enough to stay behind, are ye? His confidence in his allies would be a compliment, except his glare appears to insinuate a threat if they didn't come.

[jojolagger]

"You seem to be ignoring the inherent dangers of the terrain. Azalin is cold, and getting colder. They didn't even have a summer this year. I'll be able to handle it fine, but some less inclined towards the cold might be smart in staying back." Responds Davroar, tapping a claw against his white scales, to draw more attention to the fact a frost dragon was calling the place cold. The dragon continues , "At the very least, we should be sure to get some cold weather gear before heading to Azalin. You don't have enough fire to warm it up yourself.", in an attempt to temper some of Samson's reckless energy, as usual.

I'm assuming that I can just post now that character is mechanically done, and flesh out personality via RP rather than writing up some backstory (which would be boring because born into group, end of story).
Also, I'm imagining the Frost Dragon and the fire mage could make good foils, so I'm thinking Davroar will be a voice of reason to Samson, if not a respected one? sound good darklink?

[darklink_shadow]

Bah. Samson spat the word as if it alone countered everything the more reasonable draconian said. Chugging down another ale, he sighed contently.

We'll just bring enough ale to keep us warm, and keep moving. We can't freeze if we don't stop moving and drinking. But I guess I'll grab some cold weather clothes just to keep toasty anyways. But I have enough fire to keep warm. More than enough. I just plan to use my fire to roast some enemies instead of just keeping me warm.

That seems fine. He probably won't admit that he listens to a frost wyrm, when he is a flame giant, though. So any respect would be concealed.

[Nanoblack]

Dokal


Heavy footsteps are heard as the crowd parts like tall grass to reveal a scruffy halfling approaching with a steaming plate clutched firmly in each hand. He wordlessly hops into an adjacent chair and places both directly in front of him."Calm yourself Samson, we don't even know if there'll be any trouble where we're headed. For all you could know, they could've all just frozen to death in the harsh winter." He takes turns aggressively attempting to skewer a potato with his fork and just reaching in with his hand for the next bite. "Still, that won't keep me from traveling out there to find out."

[darklink_shadow]

Calm? Bah. I'm in no mood for your lectures, halfling. Samson grumbled. If we get there and there is nothing to fight, I'll be a mite upset. But at least we're being paid well.

[Red Moldova]

Returning from the bar with a full tankard Alton places it on the table before pulling out a chair and climbing on top. "So, what'd I miss? Did we decide on something?"

Alton is a halfling of action, he isn't opposed to planning but when it turns into an endless back and forth he'd rather start doing stuff than continue to waste time.

Also, is there an out of character thread or do we just talk in out-of-character using spoiler tags?

[fireinthedust]

Use spoilers for off-topic discussions, like movies; use OOC: for in-game stuff, like "OOC: can Bingo the Hobbit see anything frozen in the ice?" That sound fair?


While you're deliberating what to do next, another member of the group arrives. Delia is a young intellectual, a sage of some ability, who travels with your band offering her skills with language and other sagely things. She puts an envelope on the table between you all, and on it is the mark of the Merchant League.

"This is an invitation to Azalin," she says. "We need to get there and meet Dondo, the local admin. Comes with a free round-trip passage to Azalin, and ten gold each just for going to the meeting. We've been puttering about this Inn for two weeks, thinking about what job to take. Why not this one?"

[Nanoblack]

Dokal

Using his fork to gesture to everyone else at the table, the halfling swallows his last gulp of food before speaking. "I feel like we've all decided against NOT going, so this excuse is as good as any. We're not accomplishing anything sitting here."

I usually feel that a separate OOC thread is needed to prevent the IC from getting cluttered. Your call.

[darklink_shadow]

No, we're def... wait, "against not?" Yes, we're going. The pay is great, and I need to kill something. Samson stands up and puts a hand on Dokal's shoulder.

Ten gold each just for going to a meeting about maybe going? Things must truly be desperate. I hope things need to be killed, and this isn't some sort of puzzle to be worked out. I hate puzzles. Well, I'm going to that meeting now. I want a seat in the back.

Without further ado, he started walking away, moving the hand off Dokal's shoulder to Delia's. Be sure to take notes, I'm sure I'm going to forget half of what he says. Patting the woman's shoulder, he continues to walk, with or without her.

[fireinthedust]

OOC: So do we have anything else you'd like to do in town before you head over to the Waygate?

And, while you're getting ready for the adventure, feel free to listen to this: The official soundtrack to this little endeavour. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIsptmGQEto&index=8&list=PLk11U7GnCouf-KnvdCoCHaPP0QFYiBfNz)

Heh. Heh heh.

[darklink_shadow]

Ooc: Talk to Dondo?

[Red Moldova]

OOC: So do we have anything else you'd like to do in town before you head over to the Waygate?

And, while you're getting ready for the adventure, feel free to listen to this: The official soundtrack to this little endeavour. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIsptmGQEto&index=8&list=PLk11U7GnCouf-KnvdCoCHaPP0QFYiBfNz)

Heh. Heh heh.

OOC: I'm ready.

[fireinthedust]

OOC: so... no? Nothing else? Okay, let's continue then. On that note, this is an extra-long post. While I have skimmed a few in my day, you will want to read this one more than once.

IC:

Without further interruption, you head towards the Azalin Waypoint. The Merchant Consortium has a great deal of interest in the frontier, and as a result there is a great deal of traffic to and from the gate. Several of the buildings nearby have been converted into storage, and wagon loads of materials including lumber and ingots of metal are carried from the Waypoint towards other locations. Oddly, despite the lukewarm weather in the city of Waypoint, you see people heading towards Azalin wearing massive fur coats and winter boots.

The ticket you hold from the halfling messenger is waved in front of the guards, and you find yourselves standing on the stone dais. The wagon before you wheeled up, said a word, then vanished. Then it is your turn.

The world explodes in light, a thousand-thousand stars rushing through you, around you, and the magic roars in your ears.

Then, just as suddenly, it stops. You've arrived. It's very, very cold.

The Dais on Azalin is inside a large log enclosure, like a barn but built only to keep out the snow and other weather. This area is not heated, and your breath is already fogging infront of your face.

You step outside, and find yourselves in the middle of the settlement named (fairly obviously) "Wagon Town". It is a bleak town, a place where miners come to fritter their wages away on hard drink, gambling and carousing, before going back to the mountains for more. Many taverns and Inns fill the town, as none but the local craftsmen and others who service the miners and wood-cutters live here year round, and many of them simply reside in the rooms of Inns. The buildings are uniformly made of wood that has been blackened by exposure to the elements. Roofs made of wooden slats or tile, streets paved with wood, and what animals aren't pulling wagons are stray dogs and cats running loose in the dirt roads.

(ooc: assuming you go right to the meeting with Dondo)

Dondo is a sandy-haired man with a fine coat worn over worker’s clothes, and gold rings worn on thick, calloused fingers that look like they’ve done their share of hard labour. He invites you into the private dining room, to sit around sturdy chairs at a table covered in salted meats, bottles of wine and jugs of ale.

“Speaking plainly, I mean to hire you to go north and figure out some mysteries for myself and the other investors in Azalin’s merchant consortium. Things are damn strange in this frontier, and my partners are getting nervous about our investment. You’ve no doubt noticed that it is cold here in the frontier. Weather is unnaturally cold this year, has been for the last few years: the winters get longer and the summers get colder. It’s summer here right now, and as you can see it has begun to snow. Most of the work is in the mines, where it’s hot as the inferno, but strange things have been happening. Azalin, the merchant who found this place, showed us there was good mining in the hills here. Add to that, not one tribe of goblins, barbarians or even elves and dwarves, or any other intelligent creatures live around here. The land was untouched and unclaimed, so we set up towns with the mines, all twenty years ago.”

“Thing is, the last few years there’ve been creatures from the wilderness attacking the towns. White wolves and bears on the roads, sometimes a few. Azalin doesn’t like this, so he sent away for warriors from down south, said he knew these mercenaries personally to take care of the monster attacks. He was always going south every year, coming back with prospectors, and strange goods from down south, like fine silks and wines and such. Vogol the sage, Azalin’s man, was one of them, and helped find good spots to dig for iron for Azalin’s mines. These mercenaries were exotic to be sure, most of them strange dark-skinned men with curved swords and thick accents, and some of the lads say they’re desert nomads! They even brought up some robed men with them, maybe they was wizards, I don’t know. Azalin and these warriors went north, he said he was going to fight off the critters personally. That was the last we heard of him, months ago.”

“Add to that, the Irondelve mining town went silent this winter, a town of over a hundred strong workers. At first we thought it was just a big storm, but after the storm passed we still heard nothing. Not one messenger we sent to check on them came back to explain what’s gone on. Whatever it is, we have to know what happened to Azalin, to the townsfolk, and what all is going on here.”

"I mean your group to head north to Irondelve, find Azalin, and bring him back here. If he's just a body, I want it. If he's alive, even better. Either way, we need to know. Will you take this job?"

[darklink_shadow]

Samson could not contain his grin throughout the explanation of the situation. Bears, packs of wolves, mercenaries and towns gone quiet? Sounds like there will be plenty of bloodshed by the end of this. You are asking us to do a very, very dangerous job. One that, according to your reports, has ended in absolute failure by previous messengers. How much glory, how much gold, can I gain from saving this world? Enough to accept. But I have my own conditions.

Pausing to allow his words to sink in, Samson considered what, exactly, he was going to demand. I want a pony keg, one just small enough to be carried under my arm, but as large as I can hold; to keep me warm. And to feast on meat tonight. And... Samson's pathetic imagination was clearly straining to come up things to want. I want a miner's helmet too. They look neat. Maybe weld some horns onto it.

Samson's grin changed to contentment with his ability to impress himself with creativity and genius.

[Nanoblack]

Dokal

The halfling had meant to speak since it seemed everyone else was hesitating, but held his tongue as Samson hungrily monologued his way to glory. This pause gave him a moment to go over Dondo's words in his head.

Knowledge Geography:[roll0]
Knowledge Nature:[roll1]
You can disregard these results if I wasn't supposed to roll these myself.

[fireinthedust]

ooc: Nah, they're fine.

IC: You know nothing much about the lands here. It's not your homeland, and is so void of civilization that green mages have few qualms about industry moving in for a few mines. After 20 years there's little beyond drunken miners, and others wanting some easy labour without fear of orcs or bandit attacks. Best adventure you could hope for, in theory, would be arriving in wagon town, getting into a drunken brawl with some local color, and then leaving. That's the general consensus about Azalin, at least.

[fireinthedust]

Dondo: "We've plenty of barrels of ale, take your pick. A helmet I can get you, and I'll give you some coin to find a smith to add horns. And you'll have a wagon with ponies to pull your supplies."

OOC: did you folks buy winter gear?

[darklink_shadow]

OOC: I am pretty sure we discussed it. I'd like to say we did.

Samson looked flustered for a minute, then nodded. Good! Good. Actually, great! He laughed a little bit to him self. Beer, a new helmet and a wagon?! This is the best adventure! Finally he broke into a full on burst of hearty laughter.

[jojolagger]

The dragon stirs at the mention of ponies, then looks perplexed. "I don't get it. Why would you have weak snacks pulling the wagon?"

For cold weather gear, I'm a assuming that even thought I don't actually have the resist cold yet (next level), that as a frost dragon I can shrug of non-magical non-extreme cold.
Also, my max load is greater than a ponies push/drag limit. So I could pull the cart better than 5 ponies. So we might be better off without them.
Lastly, does anyone have the ride skill, or did I waste 60 gp on an exotic military saddle?

[Red Moldova]

(ooc: assuming you go right to the meeting with Dondo)

Will you take this job?"

OOC: Yes

"This works for me."

[fireinthedust]

OOC: Winter Gear: It's... not extreme cold at this time here in town.

Ponies: You want to be strapped to a wagon? A wagon dragon? What would your mother think if she could see you tied up like a mule? Also, I'm sure the wagoneer's union would have something to say about you robbing a wagon driver of his right to wages, so he can support his family.

IC:

Dondo nods. "Good. Here's your 10 gold each. The sooner you return with news, the better!"

OOC: Anything else?

[Nanoblack]

Wagon dragons are the extreme couponers of high fantasy. That said, Dokal is good to go.

[fireinthedust]

ooc: I can move forward, or rp some things in town. I'm prep'd for either one.

[darklink_shadow]

After having secured a miner's helmet, and extra coin for the blacksmith, Samson marched into the blacksmith's shop and dropped the miner's helmet on an unused anvil. Your mayor said you had the skill to put horns on this helmet. He also said to pay you with these coins. Samson dropped a litter of coins into the upturned helmet. I'll pick it up in the morning before I head out to find Azalin. Thank you for your help, Master Blacksmith. Samson gave the man a genuine smile and nodded to him before turning to leave and head to the inn for heavy drinking, and hopefully a tavern brawl.

[Red Moldova]

ooc: I can move forward, or rp some things in town. I'm prep'd for either one.

ooc: I'm good moving forward.

[fireinthedust]

OOC: In the morning you'll leave, so if you're buying winter gear (which you really better have for this adventure), now's the time.


IC: While you prepare for their journey, the taverns of Wagon Town are open to you. Haggard labourers drink their flagons of hot spiced wine to keep back the cold, and gather around the fire to tell stories and rumours from around the region. As you settle down to your meal and hot drinks, the voice of a grizzled man directs itself towards you.

“Aye, the Frost Maiden haunts us,” grumbles one old man sitting near you. “I’ve heard that you’re heading up to Irondelve. Bet Dondo didn’t tell you the tale of the Frost Maiden, did he?” Others at the tavern groan, but the old man continues. A few of the tavern patrons who are listening look as serious as he does, despite the skeptics, as if they know the truth of his words.

“My name is Forvar, and I’ve been at this frontier over fifteen winters. I tell the truth. I’ve seen her: a beautiful elven maiden pale as frost, with hair that blows like snow in the wind. She comes to men in their dreams, calls them to her in the wilderness. I watched a friend of mine staying up past midnight, night after night, looking out into the snow storms. Then one night he wandered away from camp. Everyone thought he was just drunk, but I knew better. I followed after him, watched him walk out into the storm that popped up out of nowhere... and there she was! Beautiful woman, wearing nothing but a dress made of snow-flurries, calling to him, an’ him going to her! I tried t’stop him, but fer nothing. Soon as he got to her, she holds him tight, an’ a great blizzard whips up and hides them both from view. Since then, I seen the look in a few men right afore they wander out just like my friend. We find em, days later, layin in the snow frozen solid. Some still smell like the rum they was drinking, like we all do. Everyone thinks I’m lyin’, especially the big man Dondo. Think I’m crazy! You just mind yerselves... mind the Frost Queen herself!”

Forvar settles back into his drinks, and the others around the tavern seem to go back to their tales and cups.


OOC: Anyone listening for rumours around town? Or talking to Forvar some more?

[fireinthedust]

OOC: Samson, that scene is for sure you. Everyone else: if you're there, good. If not, pick somewhere else to be and we'll do that.

Red Moldova: We'll move on shortly; I'm just making sure Samson gets his tavern scene, and passing on some exposition :D

[darklink_shadow]

Samson looks at the possibly drunk man very seriously. You may or may not be crazy. That isn't for me to decide. But I thank you for the warning regardless. If I see an elf-witch in my dreams, I'll be sure not to let her ensnare me.

Samson took a swig from his drink, and thought about the possibility of running into a snow-witch, but his confidence assured him that he could just bash her with his fire and everything would be fine. Well, Forvar, I can say this too: if she attacks me, I'll defeat her, and try to rescue your friends. But I don't work for free. If and when I rescue the people, assuming they aren't already dead or twisted by the witch, I'll expect some form of reward.

[roll0] Sense motive to see if I think he's actually being honest.

[fireinthedust]

OOC: you can't be 100% sure with this guy, he's an old miner who drinks a lot: you're unsure of how humans like him express themselves, especially when much of his fact is hidden by beard, eyebrows, and grime/sweat.

[darklink_shadow]

Ok, but does he respond to me?

[fireinthedust]

OOC: Dondo is the one who's hired you. No one asked him how much he'd pay (except for demanding a barrel of ale, and a miner's helmet with horns on it). You did get 10gp for showing up... honestly, though, I'll say he gave you a contract for each of you to sign: 100gp for Azalin, 100gp for Vogol (his aide), and more if you figure out what's going on with the crazy winter, the strange monsters attacking the mines, and put a stop to it all. That's a ridonkulous fee, but Dondo explains that the losses to business for the town and Azalin being gone are huge.

Forvar is just a tavern patron telling stories. He's the one who mentioned the dreams, and that Dondo doesn't believe him. He's not offering money, just giving a warning... so I'm not sure if that answers your question. The Sense Motive roll failed, though, so you can't tell if he's serious or not.

Did you guys want to talk further, talk to other people, or gather information in some other way? Or just move on (which Red Moldova is fine to do, or was before I posted the story from Forvar).

[darklink_shadow]

I said something to Forvor... is he going to reply?

You know what, never mind, just skip to the next day.

[fireinthedust]

I said something to Forvor... is he going to reply?

You know what, never mind, just skip to the next day.

Oh gosh! Sorry, I didn't pick up on it. GM error. I liked your dialogue, but it looked rhetorical! :smallredface:

No, I'll answer from him, but yeah I'm good to move on. You did some great dialogue for me, so give yourself 100xp bonus!


Forvar mutters into his drink, and looks at you seriously.

"You don't worry 'bout fighting the snow witch, young one. Ain't no good fighting a force o' the supernatural! She's a spirit, an ice goddess the ancient elves worshipped, I heard. It'd be like swingin' yer sword at the wind, raging at the cold."

Another voice pipes in, this one from a dwarf parked nearby. He likewise looks haggard, but from anxiety rather than age (after all, dwarves all seem like old men even in youth!)

"Best listen to the old human, lad. You and yer lot look like adventurers. Like the kind what uses magic. They say magic don't work right here, neither, not like down south nor nowhere else. Drives men mad! I seen mages come up lookin' fer work. Why not? Blast rocks apart with fireballs and spells, or melt the ore from the rock with lightning, right? But no! The bosses, your friend Dondo included, don't believe it. Azalin was a wizard, and he never went mad, they say. Thing is, other mages start talking to themselves, forget who they are, or even go mad with rage until folks have to put them down. It takes a while, but most mages go insane the longer they stay here. That's why it's all miners, all elbow-grease and muscle, working the mines on the frontier."

"My name's Kovin Hammerfall. Sorry if I seem forward that we all know you're adventurers. I'm glad to see you. My brother dwarf, a miner named Boin, we was living in Irondelve. He's not been heard from since Azalin went north to find out about the monster attacks. I'm sure Dondo only cares about the boss Azalin, but if you find my brother dwarf, I'll see you get paid well. I'll even buy you this round. Just... promise me you'll look for him, or what's left of him? We Hammerfall clan dwarves are few in number, and I promised his kin I'd do right by him."

He puts a handful of copper peices on the table in front of you, for your food and drinks for the evening.

OOC: unless you're looking for more rumours/exposition, I'll skip to the next day?

[darklink_shadow]

Samson scoffed at the warning. I'm not afraid of a snow witch. Especially not an elf. But I'll be wary, n'rtheless. Samson turned his whole body to face the dwarf as he spoke, and furrowed his brow.

Well, Hammerfall, I won't lose my mind to the vile magic of any snow witches. The fires of Juton burn within me, keeping me warm and safe from any evils. Perhaps weaker mages have failed here, but the flaming spirit that burns within me will not be quenched by wicked frost. Should I have a chance to discover your kin, he will be saved. I am not the leader of my party, and I will not wander the frozen wastes too errantly, but should any opportunity arise, you can count your kinsmen rescued. You are an honorable man to look out for your kin. I will except no payment for his rescue. Honor begets honor, my friend, this round is payment enough.

I'm content with this, we can move on at your leisure.

[Nanoblack]

Dokal

The halfling had been passing time in the tavern while they waited for Samson's helmet to finish. He had been trying to keep to himself as he didn't necessarily want to be known around town as an adventurer; too many people with ulterior motives just aching to volunteer him to their own ends.

Though he was focused mostly on this thoughts, he was broken from his inward focus when Forvar started speaking. The details of the old humans story were sobering despite not having a drop of ale since they arrived. Once Samson turns his attention to the Dwarf, Dokal approaches the old man. "I'm no stranger to the dangers of the wild, verdant or frozen, but I believe you tale and I want to know as much as I can about this snow witch before we travel headlong into the cold."

[fireinthedust]

Dokal: Forvar looks away, then nods.

"Not much to tell beyond that. Mayhap I am an old fool, but others... Others have said that she comes to them in dreams, calling to them. We got tavern wenches plenty, not saying we don't. Thing is, men get these dreams an wander off. Then we find em a few days later, frozen solid in the snow. If I drink enough, I sleep deep enough that I've never had these dreams. Thing is, I've been keeping my ear to the ground, and a few of the camps... a few of the mining camps have said more than their share of disappearances have ben happening recently. Maybe she's involved? I dunno. But the summer didn't come this year, and that Ice Queen is made of blizzard..."

Other tavern patrons hear this and start to speak up.

"It's the monster attacks on the villages, that's all! Six-legged wolves, leap into town and carry men off! Snow-beasts is ta blame!"

"Nah, it's gotta be frost giants. I bet there's a tribe of them in the black mountains, plotting when to come out of their castles and smash us all. That's what happened to Irondelve, they probably started their attack, and mean to kill us, or freeze our blood and bones!"

"I hear different..."

ooc: more to come, brb!

did we lose anyone?

[Nanoblack]

Dokal

He flinches slightly when the other patrons join in, he had hoped to keep his interest in these events hidden. Nevertheless, Dokal takes another breath and continues his line of questioning. "Those who are taken, how far away are they found? Maybe they're being lured somewhere? I don't know of any snow beasts that would drag prey into a storm just to let it freeze in the snow."

[jojolagger]

Davroar, content to sleep til morning instead of being misinformed by superstitious locals, calmly heads to bed.


Ponies complaint was less idea off "tie wagon to dragon" and more "if there's so much value in this place, why can't you even afford horses." I mean really, ponies will be pretty slow dragging our gear along.

Also, sorry for being absent, vacation with poor internet and loads of doing nothing.

[fireinthedust]

ooc: Well, so long as you accomplished nothing, I'll give you 50xp for the effort.

And 100xp to Dorkal and Samson for hanging around.

And by ponies I meant work-ponies of the... honestly, I got this kid what watches that show, so my language for "horses" has been significantly altered. These are Earth ponies, um, and they have muscle-arms on their flanks, um, so they're stronger. No. They're dire ponies?

-20 GM points for Slytherin! (and yes, all GMs come from the house of he-who-must-not-be-named... except the good ones, those are hufflepuff, and likely better at the job)

[fireinthedust]

ooc: Okay, here we go again.

IC: Tavern

You hear yet more rumours flying about.

"I heard it was a dragon, one o'them ice wyrms, laired up in the hills. Freezes everyone once a century with a spell o'blizzards! That's why we got no intelligent life on the frontier, cept us miners: ice wyrm kills off anyone what comes by."

"Then how does it live?"

"Thought of that: saves up those it finds in its ice cave, like frozen salmon. I hear ice dragons like eating meat frozen anyways."

Forvar snorts. "Ice dragons, right. It's the Frost Queen, I tells ya. One of her minions came through here a while back, fellah called himself Winter's Blade. Some fancy elf wearin' Mithril armor and carrying a big sword made of glowing white metal. All dressed in white and blue, talking magic and spellcasting. I got a bad feelin' from him. Walks into town, buys his supplies, then marches off in the direction o' them mining camps. This right after Azalin an' his boys went missing. Like as not he's some kind o' ice warlock workin' fer that Ice Queen herself! Mark my words, trouble's under foot."


OOC: okay, that's enough of the initial rumours... unless you want to ask clarifications questions, I won't be offering to divulge more!

Skipping to the next morning later; gotta finish a thing or two. If I get questions, I'll answer them in a separate section of the same post, likely with spoiler tags so we don't get confused. If a fight breaks out and everyone joins in, we'll pause the next morning and retcon in any bruises ;)

[darklink_shadow]

Samson grins at all the chatter and drinks his ale heartily. Not to worry, you bunch of sissies, real men have come to town! We'll slay all the beasties, dragons, warlocks, Ice Queens or whatever shows up. After finishing his drink, he slams the cup down. I'm going to sleep now. All your silly fears will be crushed by my blade and my beard. Good night.

[fireinthedust]

Leaving Wagon Town first thing, you get your wagon, your stalwart "horses" (happy?!), your three wagon-lads, and your gear (most notably a mining helmet with horns attached). You head north through hilly countryside covered in a thick forest of pine trees. Each time you crest the top of a hill, you can see the black mountains rising up to claw at the heavens, the black stone of the mountains vanishing in a layer of thick snow clouds their tips. The winds from the mountains roar down between the hills, bringing snow with them. At first this is only a few flecks of snow, but as you near the location of the village of Irondelve you find the snow has come up to your ankles. This is clearly unnatural weather for summertime, even this far north!


A wooden plank on a post greets you on the edge of town, clearly the signpost for the mining village of Irondelve, but its letters cannot be seen beneath a layer of thick white frost coating it. The entire area is covered in this “frosting”, from the branches of the trees to every inch of the palisade and the log houses beyond. What should be a collection of wood cabins with the smell of hearth fires or smithies, the sound of bustling activity, is instead silent but for the howl of the wind, and covered in a layer of frost.

The entrance to Irondelve was a gate made of logs bound together, but now the gates are blasted into many pieces and spread about the ground inside the gate. The layer of frost covers the pieces as it does everything else. A Guardhouse beside the gates was blasted apart as well, but no bodies can be seen lying in the wreckage.

[darklink_shadow]

S'cold. Where are we? Is this Irondelve? Fffffreezing cold. Let's keep going until we find whatever it was we were looking for here, or something to fight. Too cold for standing or thinking. Samson shivers slightly under the thick furs and horned mining helmet. As usual, he seemed to have forgetten the gist of the quest they were on, relying on his allies to lead him to the next battle, the next meal, and the next paycheck.

[fireinthedust]

OOC: So who's going first through the gate?

Welcome to Irondelve... (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIsptmGQEto)

And yes, this is Irondelve, apparently.

[jojolagger]

Davroar will take point, muttering out some arcane shielding before entering the town, as something is clearly wrong, is maybe still dangerous.
"Be on guard, something is wrong here, and might be dangerous."

Because obviously something will happen here, casting mage armour. +4 AC for 2 hours.


"horses" (happy?!)
Not really. Now that I've shifted to the mindset of that show, earth ponies seems a much more preferable option. :smalltongue:

[darklink_shadow]

Samson huffed and shivered again. Yeah, yeah. I sure hope something comes out here after our blood. If they take much longer, it'll be frozen solid.

Despite his complaints he moved to be just behind Davroar, actually eager for violence. He felt his blood warming, and his rage just under the surface, ready to be tapped into and used for glorious combat.

[fireinthedust]

Walking through the gates you see a large open area with several buildings surrounding a well.

The streets of the work camp are wide and empty. Your footsteps crunch as you walk over the frost on the ground. The walls of the buildings here are frosted over, the thin windows empty and dark, glass and shutters gone, so that the long houses look like ghosts frozen in place. There are patches of red on some of the walls, lightened to bright pink by the layer of snow.

In the middle of the open area is a stone well with a roof

To the right is a large L-shaped building with a shed outside it.

On the left is what looks like a stable, attached to a very long building.

On the far left, by the pallasade, is a large half-hemisphere made out of ice.

There are wide paths/roads that run around each of these buildings, and you can see other structures beyond them. Irondelve is built on something of a slope, and you can see the roofs of these other buildings. One of them has a second storey.

OOC: Please roll Perception/spot checks.

[jojolagger]

OOC: Perception [roll0]

[darklink_shadow]

Perception roll. [roll0]

[fireinthedust]

OOC: yay, the boards are back! If we're continuing, that's great. If not, my apologies and thanks for being sports.

IC:

You think for a moment there is some flash of light at the other end of town. Also, a motion between the two large buildings, a shadow perhaps.

Otherwise the details previously mentioned are what you perceive.

[jojolagger]

Gesturing for the others to follow, Davroar heads toward where movement was spotted between the two large buildings.

Sorry for delay, boards down chained perfectly into all assignments are due now

[darklink_shadow]

Samson drew his weapon and followed silently. He licked his lips, and relished the blood he hoped would be spilled by his blade.

[fireinthedust]

OOC: Hi all. Sorry for the delays/vanishing. I stopped checking this thread, then forgot to get back into the habit of it. If you're good to close the game, I'm good. However, I'm willing to keep going.

To be frank, my notes for this game need more players.


IC: Davroar, you're heading between the two buildings?

Samson: Are you following Davroar, or checking out the Well, the L-shaped building on the right, the wall of ice, the shed next to the L-shaped building, or the Stable?

[jojolagger]

IC: Davroar, you're heading between the two buildings?

Yes, but cautiously, as we expect trouble.


To be frank, my notes for this game need more players.
Maybe try a second wave of recruitment now that we have the new boards?

[darklink_shadow]

Samson: Are you following Davroar, or checking out the Well, the L-shaped building on the right, the wall of ice, the shed next to the L-shaped building, or the Stable?


Samson drew his weapon and followed silently. He licked his lips, and relished the blood he hoped would be spilled by his blade.

I am following, as stated.

[Nanoblack]

Dokal

Man, the board being down for so long totally threw me out of whack. I pretty much forgot this site existed, so sorry for my absence. I'm all for re-opening recruitment though.

Catching back up:

Perception: 1d20=9
EDIT: Botched the tags so I rerolled in the test thread: here (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=17473200&postcount=1403)

Then I'll shapeshift into a wolf and see if I can detect anything via scent:
Survival: [roll0]

Closely following along, the audible popping of joints is heard as Dokal slants into a quadrupedal position. Shivering one last time as he adjusts to his lupine form, he sniffs the air hoping to eke out some clues to what may have caused this violent scenery.