"What hag? Are they a resident of Easthaven? If they are then that may suffice but I do not know for sure. I had tried to convince the speaker to use the red wizard for the sacrifice, though it he seemed to think it might have offended the goddess of winter by offering a criminal already condemned to die. Let alone he was not even from here..." Imdra looks down to her tankard and sees it is empty. With mild frustration she pushes it away, looking as though she was attempting to find a solution for this issue.
"If we can get this hag here by evenfall maybe, just maybe, I can propose that we use them as a sacrifice. But that is only a few hours away..." Imdra finally looks up to Dullin, the desperate expression clear across her face. "Do you think you can bring this hag here in that short amount of time?"
____________________________________________
Meanwhile out in town
Visibility is rapidly decreasing as the blizzard settles in over the town. Zagren can see his breath forming each time he exhales. He can feel the temperature dropping, though still not uncomfortable for him.
Several shapes, that at least look like people, cam be seen heading out to the docks. Probably to help the fishers with unloading the days catch. A few people can be seen heading to the northeast, along the street. Most people seems to be hurrying to get indoors and out of the storm.
Domic had been drinking, and more or less forgetful in his inherbriation, that he wasn't really paying attention to Dullin when she started chatting with Kyra. That being said, when the dwarf arrived that did pique Domic's interest. It's been a while since he's seen a fellow short person, and he was just soused enough not to care that he's going to talk to a burly woman who might not care for his company. The fox girl was also talking to the dwarf, and Domic realized he never learned her name, or maybe he just forgot. Either way the gnome walked over. "Hoi there! Say, you look kinda familiar. You from Neverwinter?"
A hush of hardly contained panic escaped Dullin's ruby lips as she mulled over the guard's proposition. Slowly her concern gave away to frustration, and slowly into the unbridled dread of understanding there was almost nothing she could do to save this woman. Even in stealing the woman away, she'd be only causing more issues.
"You don't exactly give me much of a chance here" She finally admitted through a nervous chuckle. Dullin's eyes occasionally glimpsed over at the silent woman still clinging to a warm mug. "Very well, I'll see about gathering my party, though I doubt we will be fast enough" She admitted truthfully with a face stairing down to the ground in defeat. Damned Auril was a blight on this world, why did a god so powerful treat those so insignificant to her so harshly? It was a cruel as the biting snow she manifested.
Dullin made her way to Kythor first, seeing him talking to someone, likely a boatman. Abruptly she butted in, looking to the tall, muscular tiefling with glassy eyes. "I know it's risky, but could we set out soon? There are a new set of stakes in the mission" Dullin interjected, pointing to the woman and the guard. "If the issue is payment, I'll gladly cover the charges. If it means we can get back in a few hours" She proclaimed.
"You want to set out now? In this blizzard?" The man looks at Dullin as if she was mad for suggesting the endeavor. "I mean I can do it but we'll need extra provisions. And it will probably be slow going. Visibility will be poor as well. Are you sure you want to try this?"
While the Tiefling had taken a brief pause from their conversation to observe the approach of yet another newcomer to the tavern, as well as the strange behavior of the dragonborn as he wandered out once again - hopefully not to succumb to his wounds in the biting snow - he was immediately drawn back in at Dullin's request to expedite their venture into the waters. The tiefling looked first at her, theb the boatman, with an incredulous expression. "You want to head out now? After our scaly lizard friend went and got himself nearly killed outside just a few minutes ago? I've barely got any magic in me to patch up his wounds, let alone anyone else's... Whatever these new stakes are, they'd best be somethin' real important, yeah?"
Dullin couldn't help but be ashamed of her own brashness. Having someone point out the flaws in her logic was enough to kill her urgency. Still, an unwavering look of dread remained on her face. "They're going to kill that woman without a proper sacrifice!" She explained abruptly.
Snow crunched beneath his shabby foot-wraps, the heavy footfalls of the charcoal black dragonborn echoing against the walls of a dark alleyway until he stopped before a pile of snow and knelt. In spite of the icy wind nipping at his nose, the wintery atmosphere typical of most northern villages in the Dale was unfriendly to the likes of foreigners like Zagren.
However not even the icicle forming at the tip of the dragonborn's snout seemed to bother the seasoned warrior, to Zagren the cold touch of the northern wind and the flakes that flitted gently through the air were reminders of both his home and purpose. Cast out, exiled and bastardized out of superstition; he was winterblooded, cursed by the mistress of the north and to the north the winds called him.
He could hear the whispers in the wind, summoning him since he was but a hatchling; the Frostmaiden beckoning him to his true home, her domain of the Icewind Dale. Zagren was disturbed that he now was with one seeking out his patron, not just that he wasn't alone in his search but that one would seek to defeat her the Frostmaiden herself.
"Maiden of the ice, and Mother of snow..." the dragonborn whispered to the wind, in his native tongue of draconic; a language thought to possibly predate the tongues of mankind, it was often thought primitive and shrouded in mystery of which found itself tangled in the Weave "Someone else seeks you, one with white fur and a warrior's heart like my own...Yet this one seeks to harm you, thus I beseech you..." Zagren cupped his hands in the snow, grabbing a piece of jerky from his pack and buried it in the snowdrift in the alley as an offering to the Frostmaiden "Am I to stop this warrior when the time comes? Am I to strike her down, or am I to sit by and let the events transpire as your will commands?"
The winds continue to blow around Zagren without much direction nor meaning. Over all to him it is the usual cold empty void that Auril often left to fill his questions. It could be that she hasn't heard Zagren, that she doesn't see the mentioned person as a threat, or she simply does not care and cannot be bothered by the matter.
Kythor crossed his arms, tapping them onto the table as he looked at the boatman, then to Dullin. The sacrifice of a woman he'd never met or had any particular reason to care for... so, why should he? He shut his eyes and shook his head. City folk... either they cared too little, or they cared too much. This was the city's affair to sort out, most certainly not his. Besides, was it really worth all of them risking their lives? Was the weight of one life that much greater than his own, or his compatriot's, or even the boatman and the fishermen's? Not to him, it wasn't. Not by a long shot. He opened his eyes and leaned back as he turned in his seat to face Dullin directly.
"Well, look, Dullin," Kythor explained. "It's a shame they're planning on killin' her for the sacrifice to the Frostmaiden, yeah? But, to be quite frank, I figure it's better her than us, you know? We've got a whole blizzard to weather, the fishermen to find and bring back if they're alive, and 'a course we gotta find a way to keep the hag knocked out so she can be properly sacrificed..." He leans back and clasps his hands together. "Seems like a pretty tall order. You really think we even have the faintest 'a shots at something like that?"
Dullin bit her lip as Kythor explained in excruciating detail how inferior her logic was to his. It was a painful reminder of all the things she was ignoring in the heat of the moment. As much as she hated it, she agreed with Kythor and that stung worse than the biting cold surrounding them. Begrudgingly she relented, but not without a final outburst of passionate disdain. "No, gods damnit...I can't drag that many people into a fools errand. I'd be a fool to try on my own" She said, holding back tears. "I apologize for troubling you, sir" She managed to hoarsely said to the boatman before receding away from the crew. "I think I'm going to rent a room for the night. I'll be there if you need me" She added.
Skora looked surprised at the gnome, more so for the rise of interest in her by strangers. "I think we mugged that corrupted guard there..." Wisk mentions in Skora's head, causing an eye roll. "Aye, I was there for a short period, not long though. Why ya' ask?"
Kythor held his frown as he watched the wizard shrink back before completely withdrawing from the table. When he noticed how much his words had affected her, he felt a little guilt. It was always hard to leave someone condemned to their fate, but it was in not only in the best interests of the town, but the people who would be doing this theoretical rescue. It'd certainly be a wonderful, heroic achievement if they were to pull something like that off, but Kythor had little interests in heroics. He came first: and while it was certainly tragic that this woman would be offered to the Frostmaiden as a sacrifice, better her than him.
With a heavy sigh, he shakes his head and turns back to the boatman. "Can't blame her for wantin' to try to save the woman," Kythor says, "It just ain't realistic, y'know? I might know my way around the land, 'n you might know your way around the waters, but we've got too much goin' against us to be risking something like that." He pauses for a moment, pursing his lips in thought. "In any case, we'll just need to hire you - 4 gold. Boat's taken care of, so all we need is for you t'be ready to set out early in the morning, yeah?"
"First thing in the morning. I'll be at the docks." He takes a long draft and looks to the bottom of his mug. "You said your going out looking for the fishers? I didn't think anyone would go looking for them. Maybe there are still good folk around." He sets the mug down and heads towards the door drawing up his hood and scarf before heading into the blowing snow outside.
Shortly after Simon leaves, Imdra heads out as well with her companion not far behind her. The hall of the inn seems to settle down for a bit before several folk enter. Judging by their dress they are most likely the fishers that were out on the lake today.
Zagren ducked through the entranceway of the White Lady, with more questions than answers unfortunately. As the dragonborn dusted the fluff of snow from his shoulders he looked about the common room meeting the odd stare with a fierce look of his own, he wanted to make sure the folk knew despite being beaten up by a little lady he wouldn't take guff from any surly angler nor his fishwife.
"Ah, just thought you might've ran into my crew back in Neverwinter. Had dwarves, gnomes, halflings, the likes. Thought I might've recognized you from a mutual." Domic orders a drink for himself and the dwarf. He joins her at the table, figuring she seems nice enough to chat with. "Name's Domic Rockerstar Hatchetman, I grew up in Neverwinter! Was part of a small time outfit there, did some jobs before we parted ways. We looked out for the small folk, both literally and metaphorically. Hell one of the reasons I'm even up here is to keep doing that you know, looking out for folks in need of help. What brings you up this far north?"
The evening passes with the biggest event being the sacrifice to Auril. Everyone manages a mostly restful sleep. Anyone who slept at the inn knock off two silver unless you shared a room with someone, if a room was shared we can decided who covered however much of the bill. For those who chose to sleep elsewhere the stable is not far away and will not cost anything unless you distribute the animals. Outside it is still dark, though many of you are used to this by now. The blizzard that had blown through yesterday has passed having dropped several inches of snow on the area as well.
Breakfast is being served currently and the menu is eggs, bacon, fried fish, fried bread, and a simple porridge. The day is yours and I do remind you that you have acquired the services of someone who can operate a boat large enough for the group.
Uncomfortable with sleeping in the confines of some stuffy room Zagren took refuge from the blizzard outside within the nearby stables, curling up on a pile of hay as he listened to the winds howl before drifting off to sleep dreaming fitfully unable to stop thinking of Foxfire's words as well as Auril silent to his beseeching, the shifters words echoed in the dragonborn's head continuously until he awoke with a start.
* * *
Stamping his way through the snow and sleet, Zagren made his way to the White Lady at the crack of dawn when clientele was sparse so he found a seat at the bar without issue ordering fried fish.
Dullin was glad to finally be able get away from crowds and cold. The room wasn't as warm as bar. Without the fire of liquor in her belly and the kiss of the hearth's warmth, the bedroom was a crisp chill. Dullin hardly slept that night, the thoughts about the woman dying tore at her mind like a panther. Needless to say, the curtains stayed down, the candles out and she laid in silence for hours, trying and failing to sleep. She managed to catch a few hours before the early morning, when her familiar would wake her up. The porridge she ordered went all but untouched. She poked and prodded at it until the Zagren entered the tavern. Eager for something to distract her mind, she hailed him over and waved her hands to grab his attention.
"Over here" She called out in his native tongue.
Dullin slowly watched a strange void around her turn into a familiar site. They where in the White Lady, sitting at one of the many tables. The room was barren but she faintly heard the sound of the driving snow tossed upon the wind. For a moment, she let herself look around, until it dawned on her that she was sitting in the very spot the guard was. Looking down, she saw the same tankard wrapped in the cloth was steaming on the table now, next to some hazy item next to it.
"What a perceptive girl, but you always need my help in the end" A deep, gravely voice uttered from the abyss. She knew it well. Slowly the blurry image before he manifested into it's true form. A plate of seared meat and bread. It slowly dawned on her that this was the woman's last meal. Quickly her eyes shot up from the table to the bar to find the her familiar's pitch black silhouette stretched across the wall. The sinister looking shadow was all coming from her small, mangled feline familiar. As the cat opened it's mouth, however, the same masculine voice echoed out. "We certainly learned a lot today, didn't we?" He snarked as he hoped down to saunter over to her table, where he would leap up and meet her gaze. He was purring loudly, something Dullin had come to find was the way he chuckled. "If you're just here to annoy me, I'd like to remind you that if I die, you're stuck in the astral plane again" She said with a defiant scorn. Hunter seemed unamused, simply staring at his jagged claws, before ringing them through his teeth to clean and sharpen them. "Oh, you're no fun to toy with Dullin" He said with a sarcastic glee. "You know I only teach with pain" He said before he suddenly leapt into Dullin's lap. His claws stuck into her legs as he began to knead them gently against her skin. Dullin did her best to ignore the pain, until finally she decided she'd had enough. She swiped at him with an open hand, but Hunter was too quick and effortlessly darted away and back onto the table. His back was now arched and his hair stuck up straight. "Think! Look at your surroundings, why are you here!" He hissed, knocking the cup over and spilling it's contents. The liquid inside came out like mercury, a shiny chrome liquid that reflected the captain of the Guard where Dullin was sitting. She immediately stood up, flipping the table but to her dismay, Hunter merely appeared behind her. "I'm nothing like that murder!" She shouted out in anger. Hunter shouted right back. "Are you so sure? Have you not made the same decision, on your own accord?" He asked, matching her tone and then some as his voice boomed around them. It started Dullin enough to pause and in that brief moment her ego faltered and she remembered dark times in her bizarre and wild live. Being a child and pick pocketing money to feed her fleeing family, keep secrets for miscreants with info she needed. Killing spies and thugs for coin. Her reflection changed with each memory that reminded her of who she was and what she looked like. It was a surreal moment to see herself age and grow, but never truly change. Hunter's predatory eyes saw the moment and weakness and he eagerly sunk his metaphorical fangs into his current prey.
"You know what your problem is? You're a hypocrite. You act like your smart, but you hardly know a thing about how the world works" He decreed candidly as he began to pace around her now, never letting her leave the sight of his thin pupils. "You act Sauve but make a fool of yourself among the living and the dead. You judge others before your reflect on your own actions" He sternly added.
Dullin merely kept her head down, listening silently and waiting for the lecture to end. The words where hitting hard, but she would have time to internalize another of Hunter's harsh lessons later. For now, she listened as her familiar prattled on.
"If you're going to survive up here, then learn not to be so soft. The cold and colorless Icewind Dale has always eaten up fools like you" he continued, stopping to stare her down in his best attempt at intimidation. "And it brings out the darkest side of everyone"
Suddenly the room began to fade, and eventually only Dullin and the cat remained and even then, their forms where slowly fading until only a small glowing light could be seen. "heed my words, girl" The familiar added quickly as they began to dissipate. "Always" Dullin added somberly.
Skora carried on her conversation for a bit with the curious gnome, intrigued by this secret organization of "small folk supporting smalls". She couldn't help but feel unease with the suspicious fox-eared lass who called her out one her scent. After a bit, she would give her drink a dwarven sip and slam the tankard down on the table, wiping her mouth on her leather clad arms and stood up. "I hate to bail out friends, but it's been a long and miserable trek. I've people to meet and as much as I hate to say it, work to find for now. May the Great Forge keep ya warm in this winter wastelands". She had offered the gnome a hand and offered a hesitant smile to the foxy lass and turned in for the night.
The morning after
Skora had awoken, following her morning ritual of cleaning her gear, inspecting armor, tools and weapons for ware and spending an hour in prayer to Moradin. Gathering her supplies, she would move to the main area where she would take a secluded table to eat her breakfast, have a morning tankard of mead and look over her journal.
A snort curtly whistled through the dragonborn's nostrils, not out of incredulity or amusement however; Zagren did it to let the wizard know he acknowledged her wave to get his attention, he nodded his head then made his way to her.
Seating himself next to Dullin, before ordering however the dragonborn glanced between his friend and her not-so-warm looking porridge "You have yet to touch your meal?" Zagren tapped her bowl lightly, speaking his tongue with her now felt comfortable for the surly warrior but he was still tight-lipped about himself. He didn't trust these people yet, that would take time. His eyes flashed slightly as he tilted his head curiously, looking at Dullin wondering why she would waste a warm meal.
Something was bothering her, obviously so as her clutch-mate he felt honor bound to do his duty as he promised to ensure her well-being "Tell me, what is making you waste your meal?"
