Icewind Dale narrative play through - The Chosen of Auril
alice_ashpool
Member Posts: 261
Icewind Dale EE – The Chosen of Auril
This is a thread for my narrative gaming rambling because I like that sort of thing. The Chosen of Auril is a narrative play through of a group of unlikely and unsavory companions, thrown together by chance.
Run info:
Theme: Priestess of Auril Protagonist – Evil Play-though
No reload -> Minimal Reload (meaning if I die I will continue but will play "no-reload" style)
Mods: A Frosty Journey the Icewind Dale Kitpack
Difficulty: Core
Self-imposed Rules: Narrative, minimal rest, no resting outside of Inns/NPC offers, “1 rest per dungeon level” or thereabouts.
Lysara
Lysara pushed open the doors to the tavern, the pleasure of Auril’s kiss giving way to soft warmth, decadent and weak. She didn’t close the door. There was little question of what she was. The six-pointed snowflake on her shield. The clothes all of ice blue. No one but a priestess of the Frostmaiden would dress as such. The patrons in the bar studiously kept their eyes on their drinks. She looked around, seeing more armed individuals than one would expect. Not seeing her quarry, she and her companion, Galatea, took an empty seat at an almost empty table.
Lysara is a Neutral Evil Cleric of Auril – She serves the Cold Goddess out of a mixture of true belief, fear, respect, and a desire for power. She has been tasked to hunt down a fellow Neophyte Priestess of Auril who has betrayed their goddess, the completion of which will see her raised to full priestess. The traitorous Lysan was last seen in Easthaven.
Mace +
Sling +
Galatea
Galatea entered the open doors of the tavern, one step behind the stuck-up almost priestess she was charged with guarding. This was to be her last task before the Aurilian Flamehunters would see her a full member – it could not come soon enough. She shifted her bow and sat down at the table with Lysara, hoping she wouldn’t be on the receiving end of another theological lecture.
Galatea is a Lawful Evil Wizard Slayer, the half-elf daughter of a priestess of Auril. Her father was apparently a snow elf from the High Ice, though she never knew him. She has trained hard to join the Flamehunters, a group of Aurilites dedicated to hunting down fire-wielding mages.
Longbow ++
Katana +
Single Weapon style +
Aisling
Aisling groaned inwardly as the latest group of patrons didn’t close the door. Cold wind did not mix with the clothes she was wearing. Whose bright idea was it to come north? Make your fortune in the north then return to Luskan famous and rich? Ha, great plan Aisling, like that was ever going to happen. Singing to these peasants and mercenaries was so below her it wasn’t even funny. She made a snap decision, if there was no improvement within the week she was going back to Luskan and actual civilized people. Satisfied, she returned to her lute.
Aisling is a Neutral Evil Bard. She came to the ten-towns due to the difficulty in finding work in Luskan and the rather naïve thought that she could “get rich and famous” on the bleak frontier. She is self-centered, greedy, and highly intelligent, but mostly she wants to be famous by any means necessary.
Shortbow +
Dagger +
Copperfingers
Copperfingers’ eyes darted to the door. Blasted Aurelites. He had taken up position near the kitchen door, with a good view of the main door and his back to a wall. He could load his crossbow in just a second, fire, and be away before anyone would know what happened. The last lot of bounty hunters had found that out the hard way. Hopefully now, with all these damn “adventurers” showing up he could blend in for a while, relax and unwind, so to speak.
Copperfingers is a Chaotic Evil Halfling Bountyhunter. He has fled to the Ten-towns after being falsely accused of doing heinous crimes which he definitely and one hundred percent did not do. He is highly skilled in making elaborate and very painful traps which he will assure you is purely an academic interest with no nefarious use what-so-ever.
Crossbow +
Shortsword +
Kaddim
Kaddim growled as the two women sat down at his table, hand shifting to his hammer, then relaxing as he noticed the six-pointed snowflake. Aurilites. He’d be stupid to cross the ice-witches. Instead he concentrated on his drink, nothing for a half-orc to do in this town but drink bad beer and eat bad fish.
Kaddim is a Neutral Evil Half-orc Berserker. He survives as a caravan guard-for-hire, doing the journey between the Ten-towns and Luskan. There haven’t been any caravans through recently though, and without work and nothing to do but drink he is running out of money fast.
Hammer ++
Two weapon style ++
Kraepelin
Kraepelin kicked open the tavern doors in his mind, and everyone inside began to clap. Now that’s an entrance! Unfortunately, the doors were already open, so he simply stepped inside. He scanned the crowd of depressing faces, lighting on an armored Half-orc. “You, orc-man! You look like you are in need of work, and I am an equal opportunity employer of some repute who pays 5% more than the going rate. I require muscle as I have been commissioned to solve various issues, problems and vexations and so on in this delightful village.” He gestures vaguely.
Kraepelin is a Chaotic Evil Sorceror. His ego and delusions are much bigger than his actual ability. His mediocre sorcery is granted by some distant blood of a less than impressive White Dragon. He is highly volatile and is mostly in the Ten-towns to practice turning people into ice-sculptures, which he can then blame on the weather; all while masquerading as a problem solver. A fool proof plan.
Spells: Shield, Grease
Dagger +
Lysara and Galatea, not finding Lysan, booked a room in the Snowdrift Inn, opening all the windows. They planed to move up the mountains in the morning; one of the villagers here claimed to have seen a priestess dressed similarly to Lysara, heading east.
Aisling wandered around the town finding a man singing a strange song. New songs could fetch good money in Luskan so she attempted to learn what was going on. Some back and forth between a Nymph and the man turned up some new music. She felt pleased – lots gained for nothing offered. But still, she had to get out of this town.
Copperfingers stole everything not bolted down and shared a bottle with an old drunk in the hope there would be something to steal once he passed out.
Kaddim accompanied Kraepelin to the “problem,” a wolf in a storeroom. He dispatched it in exchange for half the reward while Kraepelin waited outside. Kraepelin grumbled about having to share so much, but did not attempt to turn him into an ice-statue just yet. Instead he offered him another “job” – the mayor of the town was offering money for chasing down a missing caravan shipment and Kraepelin was looking to “put together” a “team” of “specialists.” Resigned, Kaddim began to look for anyone else willing to go after the caravan for some cold hard gold.
--
The cold outside was refreshing, crisp and filled with Auril’s wisdom. Galatea was by her side as they walked out of the village following their only lead. Ahead a strange group – a half-orc, a halfling, a bard of some sort and an overdressed man in furs. They had clearly been beset by gobins if the cooling corpses were anything to go by.
“Hello Hello welcome ladies, apologies and greetings. A priestess of Auril? What auspicious day indeed, blessings of the Frostmaiden on you. My group of recently hired yet eminently competent retainers have been ourselves commissioned by the de-facto local lord, one Hrothgar, to trace a missing shipment, up into the pass to the east. Do say that you are also traveling in that direction and we might have your company?” Kraepelin goes on like this for some time.
Lysara looked at each in turn – No band of fearful peasants, these could be useful, and their leader at least showed proper respect to the Cold Goddess. After some negotiation the two set off with the four up into the peaks above Easthaven.
The cave they were looking for did not contain Lysan, but there were signs that she had been here, along with many Orcs, and the missing shipment the others searched for. They were forced to fight. Galatea was impressed with the competence of their temporary companions – except for Kraepelin who did nothing but stand around and give orders. She could smell the taint of magic in him, but cold. There were no flames within him. She felt she could work with this.
Her thoughts were confirmed when, as they faced off against an ogre, he conjured a protective shield around himself before hiding behind everyone. The surprise was Aisling. Galatea had written her off as a narcissistic arrowslinger, too pretty and full of herself to be worth her time. Until she unleashed a Sleep spell that is. Galatea almost put an arrow in her back then and there, but Lysara held her back, this wasn’t what they were here for.
Returning to Easthaven Lysara changed plans. An expedition was traveling to Kuldahar, news had reached Easthaven about some troubles – and where there was trouble in the north there would be Auril.
--
Kaddim gestured for beer. If he was reduced to killing orcs to get by, he was going to spend the pay on something worthwhile: getting drunk. But it was not to be, there was some sort of “rodent infestation” in the cellar and no beer to be had. Growling he took the stairs two at a time and smashed the rodents - beetles actually, and poured himself a mug of ale. Kraepelin, the insufferable mage, wanted to hire him to join up with the expedition to Kuldahar. There was something off about him, but pay was pay. He finished his ale and poured another. Looks like it was time to leave this town.
Galatea sat on the snow, unstrung bow across her lap, looking out across the lake. Where Lysara went, so did she, until this quest was complete and she gained the appointment she craved.
Copperfingers put the finishing touches on a very unpleasant trap – whoever sprung this one would get quite the surprise. Time to move on he thought, there was an expedition setting off for Kuldahar tomorrow and there was security in numbers for someone like him.
Aisling took up her usual place in the Winter’s Cradle, but singing for a few coppers now felt passe after their journey into the orc cave. And the pay – she made more from that than she had in weeks of playing and singing. The others had been strange. A priestess of a Goddess she had been taught to fear, and the bow wielding killer who traveled with her. A halfling who gave her the creeps just to look at. A jaded half-orc who unleashed a savage rage without enjoyment. She looked over and saw him drinking alone. And the sorcerer of some sort – with considerable effort she could use a bit of magic herself, picked it up on the road, but he was the real thing, an innate channeler – and an asshole. It was decided, she was going to Kuldahar with this expedition. An opportunity like this only comes around once in a lifetime, and she was going to take it, and drink it dry.
This is a thread for my narrative gaming rambling because I like that sort of thing. The Chosen of Auril is a narrative play through of a group of unlikely and unsavory companions, thrown together by chance.
Run info:
Theme: Priestess of Auril Protagonist – Evil Play-though
No reload -> Minimal Reload (meaning if I die I will continue but will play "no-reload" style)
Mods: A Frosty Journey the Icewind Dale Kitpack
Difficulty: Core
Self-imposed Rules: Narrative, minimal rest, no resting outside of Inns/NPC offers, “1 rest per dungeon level” or thereabouts.
Lysara
Lysara pushed open the doors to the tavern, the pleasure of Auril’s kiss giving way to soft warmth, decadent and weak. She didn’t close the door. There was little question of what she was. The six-pointed snowflake on her shield. The clothes all of ice blue. No one but a priestess of the Frostmaiden would dress as such. The patrons in the bar studiously kept their eyes on their drinks. She looked around, seeing more armed individuals than one would expect. Not seeing her quarry, she and her companion, Galatea, took an empty seat at an almost empty table.
Lysara is a Neutral Evil Cleric of Auril – She serves the Cold Goddess out of a mixture of true belief, fear, respect, and a desire for power. She has been tasked to hunt down a fellow Neophyte Priestess of Auril who has betrayed their goddess, the completion of which will see her raised to full priestess. The traitorous Lysan was last seen in Easthaven.
Mace +
Sling +
Galatea
Galatea entered the open doors of the tavern, one step behind the stuck-up almost priestess she was charged with guarding. This was to be her last task before the Aurilian Flamehunters would see her a full member – it could not come soon enough. She shifted her bow and sat down at the table with Lysara, hoping she wouldn’t be on the receiving end of another theological lecture.
Galatea is a Lawful Evil Wizard Slayer, the half-elf daughter of a priestess of Auril. Her father was apparently a snow elf from the High Ice, though she never knew him. She has trained hard to join the Flamehunters, a group of Aurilites dedicated to hunting down fire-wielding mages.
Longbow ++
Katana +
Single Weapon style +
Aisling
Aisling groaned inwardly as the latest group of patrons didn’t close the door. Cold wind did not mix with the clothes she was wearing. Whose bright idea was it to come north? Make your fortune in the north then return to Luskan famous and rich? Ha, great plan Aisling, like that was ever going to happen. Singing to these peasants and mercenaries was so below her it wasn’t even funny. She made a snap decision, if there was no improvement within the week she was going back to Luskan and actual civilized people. Satisfied, she returned to her lute.
Aisling is a Neutral Evil Bard. She came to the ten-towns due to the difficulty in finding work in Luskan and the rather naïve thought that she could “get rich and famous” on the bleak frontier. She is self-centered, greedy, and highly intelligent, but mostly she wants to be famous by any means necessary.
Shortbow +
Dagger +
Copperfingers
Copperfingers’ eyes darted to the door. Blasted Aurelites. He had taken up position near the kitchen door, with a good view of the main door and his back to a wall. He could load his crossbow in just a second, fire, and be away before anyone would know what happened. The last lot of bounty hunters had found that out the hard way. Hopefully now, with all these damn “adventurers” showing up he could blend in for a while, relax and unwind, so to speak.
Copperfingers is a Chaotic Evil Halfling Bountyhunter. He has fled to the Ten-towns after being falsely accused of doing heinous crimes which he definitely and one hundred percent did not do. He is highly skilled in making elaborate and very painful traps which he will assure you is purely an academic interest with no nefarious use what-so-ever.
Crossbow +
Shortsword +
Kaddim
Kaddim growled as the two women sat down at his table, hand shifting to his hammer, then relaxing as he noticed the six-pointed snowflake. Aurilites. He’d be stupid to cross the ice-witches. Instead he concentrated on his drink, nothing for a half-orc to do in this town but drink bad beer and eat bad fish.
Kaddim is a Neutral Evil Half-orc Berserker. He survives as a caravan guard-for-hire, doing the journey between the Ten-towns and Luskan. There haven’t been any caravans through recently though, and without work and nothing to do but drink he is running out of money fast.
Hammer ++
Two weapon style ++
Kraepelin
Kraepelin kicked open the tavern doors in his mind, and everyone inside began to clap. Now that’s an entrance! Unfortunately, the doors were already open, so he simply stepped inside. He scanned the crowd of depressing faces, lighting on an armored Half-orc. “You, orc-man! You look like you are in need of work, and I am an equal opportunity employer of some repute who pays 5% more than the going rate. I require muscle as I have been commissioned to solve various issues, problems and vexations and so on in this delightful village.” He gestures vaguely.
Kraepelin is a Chaotic Evil Sorceror. His ego and delusions are much bigger than his actual ability. His mediocre sorcery is granted by some distant blood of a less than impressive White Dragon. He is highly volatile and is mostly in the Ten-towns to practice turning people into ice-sculptures, which he can then blame on the weather; all while masquerading as a problem solver. A fool proof plan.
Spells: Shield, Grease
Dagger +
Lysara and Galatea, not finding Lysan, booked a room in the Snowdrift Inn, opening all the windows. They planed to move up the mountains in the morning; one of the villagers here claimed to have seen a priestess dressed similarly to Lysara, heading east.
Aisling wandered around the town finding a man singing a strange song. New songs could fetch good money in Luskan so she attempted to learn what was going on. Some back and forth between a Nymph and the man turned up some new music. She felt pleased – lots gained for nothing offered. But still, she had to get out of this town.
Copperfingers stole everything not bolted down and shared a bottle with an old drunk in the hope there would be something to steal once he passed out.
Kaddim accompanied Kraepelin to the “problem,” a wolf in a storeroom. He dispatched it in exchange for half the reward while Kraepelin waited outside. Kraepelin grumbled about having to share so much, but did not attempt to turn him into an ice-statue just yet. Instead he offered him another “job” – the mayor of the town was offering money for chasing down a missing caravan shipment and Kraepelin was looking to “put together” a “team” of “specialists.” Resigned, Kaddim began to look for anyone else willing to go after the caravan for some cold hard gold.
--
The cold outside was refreshing, crisp and filled with Auril’s wisdom. Galatea was by her side as they walked out of the village following their only lead. Ahead a strange group – a half-orc, a halfling, a bard of some sort and an overdressed man in furs. They had clearly been beset by gobins if the cooling corpses were anything to go by.
“Hello Hello welcome ladies, apologies and greetings. A priestess of Auril? What auspicious day indeed, blessings of the Frostmaiden on you. My group of recently hired yet eminently competent retainers have been ourselves commissioned by the de-facto local lord, one Hrothgar, to trace a missing shipment, up into the pass to the east. Do say that you are also traveling in that direction and we might have your company?” Kraepelin goes on like this for some time.
Lysara looked at each in turn – No band of fearful peasants, these could be useful, and their leader at least showed proper respect to the Cold Goddess. After some negotiation the two set off with the four up into the peaks above Easthaven.
The cave they were looking for did not contain Lysan, but there were signs that she had been here, along with many Orcs, and the missing shipment the others searched for. They were forced to fight. Galatea was impressed with the competence of their temporary companions – except for Kraepelin who did nothing but stand around and give orders. She could smell the taint of magic in him, but cold. There were no flames within him. She felt she could work with this.
Her thoughts were confirmed when, as they faced off against an ogre, he conjured a protective shield around himself before hiding behind everyone. The surprise was Aisling. Galatea had written her off as a narcissistic arrowslinger, too pretty and full of herself to be worth her time. Until she unleashed a Sleep spell that is. Galatea almost put an arrow in her back then and there, but Lysara held her back, this wasn’t what they were here for.
Returning to Easthaven Lysara changed plans. An expedition was traveling to Kuldahar, news had reached Easthaven about some troubles – and where there was trouble in the north there would be Auril.
--
Kaddim gestured for beer. If he was reduced to killing orcs to get by, he was going to spend the pay on something worthwhile: getting drunk. But it was not to be, there was some sort of “rodent infestation” in the cellar and no beer to be had. Growling he took the stairs two at a time and smashed the rodents - beetles actually, and poured himself a mug of ale. Kraepelin, the insufferable mage, wanted to hire him to join up with the expedition to Kuldahar. There was something off about him, but pay was pay. He finished his ale and poured another. Looks like it was time to leave this town.
Galatea sat on the snow, unstrung bow across her lap, looking out across the lake. Where Lysara went, so did she, until this quest was complete and she gained the appointment she craved.
Copperfingers put the finishing touches on a very unpleasant trap – whoever sprung this one would get quite the surprise. Time to move on he thought, there was an expedition setting off for Kuldahar tomorrow and there was security in numbers for someone like him.
Aisling took up her usual place in the Winter’s Cradle, but singing for a few coppers now felt passe after their journey into the orc cave. And the pay – she made more from that than she had in weeks of playing and singing. The others had been strange. A priestess of a Goddess she had been taught to fear, and the bow wielding killer who traveled with her. A halfling who gave her the creeps just to look at. A jaded half-orc who unleashed a savage rage without enjoyment. She looked over and saw him drinking alone. And the sorcerer of some sort – with considerable effort she could use a bit of magic herself, picked it up on the road, but he was the real thing, an innate channeler – and an asshole. It was decided, she was going to Kuldahar with this expedition. An opportunity like this only comes around once in a lifetime, and she was going to take it, and drink it dry.
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The first sign was a faint hiss, at the edge of hearing, growing steadily, then shouts and screams. The sound of the avalanche roared in Lysara’s ears, deafening, too powerful to comprehend. She fell to her knees hand clutching her holy symbol as the snow and ice poured towards the train of mercenaries, militia and sellswords. Down it came, with Auril’s fury.
It should have been the end. People do not survive avalanches like that. The column was entombed in a thick layer of ice and snow -no sign of their presence.Hundreds of men and women gone in an instant. But she survived, and there was only one explanation. Auril wanted her alive. She slid down the edge of the avalance, where the trail continued on to Kuldahar to find five others all that remained. This was no accident – this was the will of the Frostmaiden. There was to be no relief for Kuldahar.
“We have been chosen by Auril” Lysara said to the the others. "It is only by her will that we have survived."
Copperfingers looked at the wall of snow behind them. Funny really – of all the ways to die he never imagined an avalanche. Looked like the way back was well and truly cut off now though, and that meant no more bounty hunters, not till this was cleared anyway. Best go along with whatever the Aurilite was spouting. For now.
Kraepelin was speechless for the first time in his life. A sign. A sign from a Goddess that he is destined for great things, just as he always knew. Finally, someone has seen the value of his work. He is chosen by a Goddess. These others have clearly been sent to render him aid.
Kaddim does little. Chance saved him, just as chance saved the others. Though he will admit that it was somewhat strange that the very same six who cleared out that orc cave together are the only six who survive.
Aisling is too distraught to really pay attention to anything. She. Almost. Died. But she knows one thing. If Auril really did intervene then that means stories, which mean fame and riches. If that meant selling her soul to an evil ice goddess then where did she sign?
Galatea says nothing. If it was Auril’s will that she die, she would have died. She scouts further down into the valley, seeing many goblins.
There was no other option but to descend from the blocked pass into the valley below. Goblins everywhere. They would have to fight their way through. The little creatures were eating beetles, and if they couldn’t stand before Auril’s chosen then they were not fit to live here, Lysara thought as her mace came down on a greenskin's head.
Lysara delivering yet another passionate haranguing about how they live only by Auril's will
--
Well, that was fun thought Copperfingers, nothing quite like throwing some of the Copperfingers specials at goblins and watching the little things explode. If only that damn priestess would shut up for one moment.
Kaddim felt more energised than he had in years. All this fighting was bringing something back, and more than that, he felt invigorated, as if his strength was tapping some deep reserve. Maybe, maybe the Aurilites were right.
Aisling was beginning to get annoyed that she was the one who was told to collect all the loot – sure, its because she can “identify” it, but really, cant that half-orc carry it, I mean he’s almost twice as big and definitely twice as stupid. But no, its Aisling who has to do all the extra work - chosen by a goddess? yeah sure, chosen by a goddess to carry shit.
Galatea took pleasure in each arrow finding a goblin. Such an undisciplined rabble had no place trying to stand against them. They might not be pyromancers, but they were good practice.
Kraepelin continued to give orders to everyone, but now they were filled with “Auril says this” and “Auril says that.” Lysara seethed until it reached breaking point. This jumped up spellslinger had no right to talk like that. Her mace crashed into his magical shield sending him reeling back while Galatea pointed a mage-slaying arrow at him. “What I meant to say, clearly, and simply did not make it as clear as I should have due to the magnitude of recent events is that Auril has spoken through here priestess here, under who’s frosty guidance I am ever following, only giving some other impression through my exuberance for our new patron.” Satisfied, Lysara and Galatea backed off, not seeing Kraepelin’s look of hatred.
A child found hiding under some stairs taught to rightly fear Auril. His parent died because they were weak and did not sufficiently fear the goddess of winter.
--
Kuldahar was an abomination. The foetid sweat of a great tree keeping the ground warm around it. Such a thing was an affront to Auril, and Lysara did not hold back telling the residents such. She felt her divine gifts growing within her, a sign of the Frostmaiden’s blessing, granting her more powerful spells – Bleak chants to winter that would bolster the others while demoralising their enemies, and the ability to conjure a storm of snowballs.
Answering her demands the villagers said that Kuldahar was beset from all sides, the circle of warmth receding, soon the entire village would return to Auril’s embrace. The attitude was despondent and fearful, a fitting mood, enhanced by Lysara’s preaching. The only upside to her trip here was that the “Archdruid” hinted that the unnatural frost was originating in the Vale of Shadows – and unnatural frost perhaps indicated Lysan.
Galatea crouched behind a great root, spying a mage through the window of his tower. A powerful one, but the greater the power, the greater the trophy. She felt stronger now, ever since the avalanche she could feel Auril.
Copperfingers snuck upstairs in the local Inn, what do we have here he though, plucking an engraved ring from a draw. Looks valuable, and it seems the innkeeper has not been entirely truthful about how he came into possession of the building. Time for a little blackmail.
Copperfingers blackmails the innkeeper, using his loaded crossbow for leverage.
Kaddim bought some plate mail armor – if they were going in insist on him standing at the front he was damn well sure he was going to be protected while doing it. Lysara was about to argue, but if Auril had seen fit to spare this half-orc then she had a duty to make sure he stayed alive as Auril wanted. His strength seemed to be growing, but Kaddim did not know why, and he didn’t like that, but it was either stay trapped in Kuldahar as the heat receded, or stay with the Auirilite priestess.
Cajoled, bullied and entreated by Lysara into accompanying her, the group rested, then set out for the Vale of Shadows on the trail of Lysan.
Copperfingers wished he had actual copper fingers, then maybe they wouldn’t be so cold all the time. The gifts of Auril, or perhaps just plain old experience, grew within him, these morons were lucky to have him around, else they probably would have skewered themselves on traps ten times over. If anyone’s traps were going to get ‘em they were going to be his.
Now we’re trudging through disgusting tombs, what the hell though Aisling – name one, just one famous song about graverobbing. That’s right, there arn’t any, because grave robbing does not make good songs, it just, quite clearly, makes very good money. The pay-off from this better be worth it.
Lysana waved her hand and the paltry group of moldering skeletons turned and ran in fear. Enough of this – there was evidence that Lysan was here – a recent sacrifice. But why was she playing with the dead?
Galatea was bored. Skeletons do not make good targets for arrows, nor pleasurable victories.
Kaddim’s hammer smashed a skeleton apart, bones flying in every direction. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he was starting to like this. His other hammer took out a zombie with a wet squelch. Maybe not the fleshy ones though.
They hunted for Lysan, and gold, in the tombs of the Vale of Shadows.
--
Kaddim wiped the Yeti-chieftains blood off his hammer and drew his knife, slicing into it to retrieve the necklace. Fool went and got himself eaten, and his brother wanted a memento – the world is full of sentimental fools. A job was a job though, and this was not hard – but if that coward didn’t pay up, well, then there would be words.
Anything that attacks someone who so clearly displays the badge of the Frostmaiden deserves only death.
With the death of the yetis inside the cave, Lysara felt her divine gifts grow further. A sign from Auril that she was on the right track. It was clear that Lysan had been here, but where was she now?
The group worked methodically though the tombs, taking everything of any value, leaving each mausoleum open, the icy wind howling through them, snow settling on the bones of the risen dead – now sent back to the grave. The dead must fear Auril as the living do.
Aisling looked up at the tomb entrance situated highest in the valley. Flames burned in braziers outside. Lysara was busy chanting, and with a final shout a swirl of snow extinguished them both. Aisling returned to peering into the entrance – the heat billowing out of here was strong, dry and smelling of death. She looked at the new silver ring on her finger. Not three hours ago it had been on the finger of a corpse. Smiling, she prepared to face the dead and take their rings.
Galatea cursed internally and reached for the small bundle of magical arrows she had collected. These undead were getting more trouble-some. Whispering a prayer to the Winter Queen she kissed the string and let fly at the necromancer. The arrow punched through its rotting chest causing it to stumble. Kaddim brought the magical morning-star down hard, caving in its skull. The animated bones crumpled, the magic holding them together failing.
Kaddim kicked the pile of bones and hefted the warhammer it had recently been waving around. This was a good weapon, heavy and enchanted. He cast his old one aside.
They penetrate deep into the first floor of the tomb before having to retreat and rest.
Kraepelin waved his arms in an elaborate manner – if the damn priestess could do it so could he. Screaming something about dragons he clapped his hands and a flurry of ice-chunks erupted outwards from a point in front of him. Yes! There was never any doubt at all. With effort he did it again, snowballs and ice blasting a large area.
They rested uneasy, dreams filled with ice.