Episode 24
"The Spies who came in from the Cold"
(c) Matt Grossman and J. Sage Schreiner

Tron Malkaszar, an irreverant elf -- Matt Grossman
Norel Bolderdash, hulking woodsman of the Adri forest -- Tom Morin
Nigil Palom, noble from a far-distant land -- Kevin Osborn
Aran, a newly remade Paladin from Tenh -- AJ Drexel
Sapphire nee Tika, a courageous gnome -- Corey Paganucci
Rhahid, a mysterious spell-crafter -- Eric Kruller 
Thorwolf Lokhold, Yar! -- Jerry Darcy
All others -- Sage Schreiner

After killing the wyvern, the party cuts its head off and mounts it on
the prow of the "Osprim's Will".  Rognvald and his men then have a
party and get drunk.  Thorwolf cuts off the beast's claws.  He also
cuts off the stinger and tries to take the poison sack, but is unable
to keep the poison from running out.

Thorwolf: Aaah!  Must wash hands!

Tron, Nigil, and Aran are all feeling very sick from the lingering effects
of the beast's poison.

Skanda: None of you should drink, because it will interfere with your
healing.
Aran: But...
Nigil: Psst, Aran, I've still got a bottle of that Keoish brandy left.
Aran: Um, yes.
Skanda: Good. (Goes to her cabin to prepare her evening prayers).

The next day they ship off bright and early, after pushing the carcass
out to sea.  After a long day's sail they arrive at Windy Isle, the
seat of Thorfinn Bloodaxe, ruler of these islands.  Thorfinn himself
comes down to meet them as they arrive, bearing the head of the wyvern
as a grisly figurehead.

Thorfinn:  I had heard that you were mighty heroes.  Now I see the
proof.  I would be honored if you would stay in my hall as long as you
like.
Aran: Thank you for your hospitality.
Thorfinn: After your wounds have healed, we will have a feast and you
must tell me your tale, and what brings such heroes to the northlands.
Tron: Uugh, make the ground stop moving...
Thorfinn: Let me introduce my wife, Groa.

Groa is an extraordinarily beautiful worman. Her face is regular and well-shaped,
though it shows lines of age. Her hands are red and tough from work. But her
skin is pale and pure, and her hair is red. Her eyes are pale, clear and grey. She
is as attractive as her husband is ugly.

Thorwolf: By Kord's fist...
Aran: (smiles)
Nigil: (tries not to stare)
Jola: (pouts)
Desh: (whispering) Shiny woman...
Groa: Welcome to our humble island. I'm sure we will have much to discuss.

Rhahid leaves for Marner, the capital of Ratik, to train in the
wizardly arts.

Rhahid: When I asked to see their library, they didn't know what I was talking
about. The lack of culture in these heathen lands, no offense, is astounding. 
When I return, guys, you will see some real magic!
Hooter: Hoo.

The rest of the party stays at Thorfinn's hall for two months,
recovering and training.  They present gifts to Thorfinn: The magic
hearthstone and three of the gold bands found in the tomb.  As the
island is held in the iron grip of winter, the party members busy
themselves with various activities.

Priest:  Do you think that one of your party might have made the
donation?  100 silver is a princely sum!
Skanda: Indeed, it seems that Pholtus smiles on his
worshippers. (Glances at Tron, who is busy practicing archery) But I
have no idea who might have given this money to the church.

Norel spends a lot of time walking the frigid moors of the island, studying
the local wildlife. It is a land of low rocky hills, and scattered
free farmers that till the stony earth. Little more than ferrets
and thin rabbits live on the islands. He is well received at farms,
as word of the heroes has spread quickly. 

Small child: Help!  Help!  The roof of the old barn fell on my doggie,
and he can't get out!
Norel: Let's see.

The ridgepole of the building has fallen, trapping the dog.  Although
the animal is unharmed, it cannot get out.

Norel stoops and grabs the ridgepole.  For a few seconds there is no
movement, then with a heave that would have wrenched the back of a
lesser man the ranger pulls the thirty foot long pole clear and tosses
it away.

Small child: Doggie!
Dog: Woof! (wag wag)
Norel: Hmm, need to bulk up more. [flex flex] Perhaps you can tell me a little
of the animals of your lands...

Norel finds ancient cave paintings -- some sort of ur-man, fighting ancient
animals -- dire wolves, and long-extince preditors.

Sapphire practices at the pell, hacking and slashing with her
shortsword.

Man: What is that?  Is it a child?
Woman: No, it is the strange midget woman that came with the
outlanders.  It is called a gnome.  It seems to have a fierce
temper... all fear it.
Sapphire: (mutters) Freakin' rustics.... [hack slash chop]

Later, Sapphire spends time listening to Thorfinn's warriors from a distance.
They tell tales of raiding on the Ratik coastline in years
long past, and, more recently, of burning the docks of Bellport and sharp, quick
battles with Duke Jhaveks and his men. It is clear that while none like Thorfinn,
they respect and admire him.

Desh spends time in the company of Thorfinn's beautiful wife, Groa. He watches
her with big eyes and hides when she turns.

Nigil spends "quality time" with his son.

Nigil: (shows Gabriel his sword) This, this you can trust.
Gabriel: Waaaah!
Nigil: Errr...
Jola: His diaper needs changing, can't you smell it?
Nigil: Yeah, uhh, I think I'm gonna go spar with Thorfinn's
housecarls. (leaves)
Jola: Men!

Tron practices his archery, and also works on his general scouting
skills.

Tron: [twang twang twang]
Rabbit#1: Urk.
Rabbit#2: Eep.
Rabbit#3: [thud]

Thorwolf makes time with all the ladies of the island.

Thorwolf: So then I slew the wyvern... but hey, I'm boring you.  Want
to go to my room and see my sword?
Woman: Wow, you're so rugged.  Just like every man here, only more so.
Thorwolf: (grins)

He also uses his skill as a fletcher to make many arrows.

Aran preaches the gospel of Hieroneous to anyone who will listen, and
does good works left and right.  He also finds a skald who knows the
legends of the north, and asks him about his sword.

Skald: Hmmm, these runes on the blade say "Frostbringer, Bite of the
North", and these small letters say "Egil the Smith wrote this".  This
is the blade that was wielded by Knud, son of Grund Ironleg, son of
Harald Nosebreaker, who slew Gunnar Blacktooth, son of...
Aran: (his eyes glaze over as the skald recites a massive genealogy)
Skald: ...who was king of the Schnai eight hundred years ago.  The
blade was forged by...I don't really know a word in your language.  We
call them "giants", but they seem to have been another race of humans.
Not the Flan.  The legends say that they placed a curse on the blade,
so that if anyone not of their blood tried to wield it, he would feel
its bite.
Aran: That's true enough.
Skald:  It is a mighty weapon, but you sound like you are worthy to
bear it.
Aran: Hieroneous willing.
Skald: I have many tales of this sword and its bearers. If you have a few
weeks to spare...

The party obseverves the behavior of Thorfinn and his wife Groa.  It
is clear to the party that they rule the islands well, if lacking compassion.
Thorfinn spends much time at other islands, and Groa rules in his stead, making
difficult decisions that are respected by all.

Sapphire: Fascinating.  Even in the far north all women's names end in
"a".
Skanda: ...

The winter is hard, but due to Thorfinn's careful management there is
little starvation, and it is even possible to have a decent Yuletide
feast.  New Year's is celebrated at the temple of Pholtus, the god
whom Thorfinn at least nominally follows.

Priest: And then Pholtus saieth unto the faithful, "Verily, he that
followeth me above all others shall have great surfeit of goats."  And
then the prophets spake unto the people of Dyvers, saying blah blah
blah...
Tron: Zzzz...
Skanda: Wake up! [elbow]
Tron: Uh... I was meditating.
Priest: And he who watcheth the movement of stars will know the will
of the gods...
Skanda: I like this part.

There is also a New Year's celebration in the more traditional Suel
style.

Thorwolf: Kord rocks!  Let's party!  Yarrr!
Sapphire: Hoody hoo! (downs a tankard of kelp beer, wincing at the
bitter taste)
Nigil: Don't you have anything a little more... refined?
Thorwolf: Yarrr!
Nigil: Rrrriiight.
Norel: It's been a year since we broke out of that mine.  A lot has
happened since then.
Tron: And there are still orcs alive in the Flaness!
Norel: They must pay.  All of them.
Tron: I wonder what happend to Ivan, or Johann, or whatever his name
was.
Nigil: And there was that tall elf and that paladin, I wonder where
they got to?
Nigil: Gentlemen, a toast.  To absent friends!
All: To absent friends! (drink)

After two months, Thorfinn goes hunting with the party.  The first day
he says little, sizing them up.  The next day, around the campfire, he
unlocks his word-hoard and speaks his purpose:

Thorfinn: As you all know, ten years ago Ratik rebelled against the
Great Kingdom and became independent.  Now that the wars in the south
have stopped, the Great Kingdom is trying to retake Ratik.  Grenel,
Hertzog of the north, is in league with the orcs of the Bone March and
a wealthy nobleman named Hastern.  Hastern's boy-loving nephew, Duke
Jhaveks, holds the south coast of Ratik in fee to our King Oleg.  Now,
according to all signs Grenel will make his move this summer.  The
orc army doesn't concern me.  There have been very heavy snows on the
mainland, and I think that the pass will not be open until late
summer.  The greater danger will come by sea.  Last summer I destroyed
the fleet Grenel had assembled at Bellport, but I believe he will
scrape together another fleet, or possibly hire mercenaries from the
Sea Barons.  In addition, Jhaveks has a fleet at his city of Nyborg.
Their plan will be to unite the fleets, conquer these islands, then
attack Ratik by sea. But it won't be the first time these islands have
been invaded. We will use every trick we can, and Osprem willing, we
will not lose.

Tron: We hate Hastern!
Thorfinn: Indeed.
Aran: We were caught up in one of his plots, and were lucky to escape
with our lives.  Most of us, anyway.
Thorfinn: Oh?
Nigil: There was a keep... we defended it, and barely got away with our
lives.
Thorfinn: I had heard rumors...

Tron pokes the campfires with a stick, and sparks leap into the air.

Thorfinn: I cannot compel you to help me, or offer you any money,
since I have none.  You have already helped me immensely.
Nonetheless, if you want to strike a blow at Hastern, there is
something that you might do which can aid me.  I have an agent in
Nyborg, but his reports are not very helpful.  I need good information
on the size of the fleet, how it is guarded, and so forth.  Also there
is a man, a shipwright, whom I would like killed. Killing him would
undermine Duke Jhavek's ship-building operations.

Aran: No, we're not assassins.

Thorfinn: Of course. If you could go to Nyborg, and there take what 
opportunities seem available, I would appreciate it.  I can put a ship 
at your disposal, to wait outside the town and pick you up if you have to
escape quickly.

The party discusses this proposal briefly and decides to accept.  They
will go to Nyborg.

Aran: One more thing... we captured a great many weapons from those
rat-creatures. We'd like you to have them.
Thorfinn: Thank you. I am in your debt. It is the little things that
may tip the ballance in a battle.

The party prepares to depart.

Nigil: We'll just leave a message for Rhahid.  He can catch up to us
later.

Groa also finds time to speak to the party.

Groa: When Ratik rebelled, Thorfinn spoke against it.  King Oleg has
never forgiven him.  Yet Thorfinn was wise; he knew that the Great
Kingdom would never allow this province to secede without a bitter
war, and now that war is upon us.  We can only do our best.  Many must
often pay the price of one man's decision.
Aran: I'm sure that Hieroneous will stand with us.  And, umm, Pholtus,
too.

The party decides to leave Jola, Gabriel, and Desh behind.  Thorwolf,
their new friend, will accompany them.

On a freezing cold winter day, the "Osprim's Will" sets out, carrying
the party, Rognvald, and twenty men.  On the way to the mainland they discuss
their cover story.

Thorwolf: So we're just going to charge in and attack the ships,
right?
Tron: No, we must be more careful.  Let's say that we are mercenaries,
who heard that Javeks was hiring.
Nigil: But what are we doing wandering around in the middle of winter?
Norel: Let's say that we were shipwrecked during that big storm, and
we've been walking overland since then.

Rognvald beaches the ship at a secluded cove about three leagues to
the east of Nyborg.  The snow is several feet deep, and the sun is
already beginning to sink as the party sets out.

Rognvald: We will wait here for you.
Sapphire: (neck-deep in snow) Um, this might take a while.
Norel: Remember when we were marching across the Bone March, and Thost
made those things to put on our feet?  Snowshoes?  We can do that now.
Rognvald: We have such things. You can borrow ours. Thorfinn made us promise
to go nowhere -- we will not need them.

The party sets out for Nyborg.  Soon they have
left the ship behind and are trekking through the deep pine forests
that line the coast.  As the shadows lengthen, the stars come out and
the weird green aurora plays overhead, glimmering on the deep, powdery
snow.  It is bitterly cold.

Aran: Should we stop for the night?
Thorwolf: When it is this cold, you cannot stop. Death comes with the
cold.
Norel: Probably just another hour to Niborg.  If we camp out in the
open here, we may not wake up.
Thorwolf: Hey, there's something behind us!

The warrior-priest's eyes have spotted motion at the very edge of his
vision.

Sapphire: I can't quite make it out, but it's about my size.
Tron: I'll go ahead, then hide.  You guys just keep walking.

The elf hides himself behind a pine tree and waits.  As the party
moves past him, the unknown pursuer follows.  Soon Tron's keen eyes
can see...

Tron: It's only Desh!  He must have stowed away on the ship and
followed us.

Desh is coming at a quick job, his breath clouding in the freezing air.
Suddenly he looks over his shoulder nervously and dissapears into the snow.

Tron: Where did he go?
Nigil: Why does he always insist on following us? He bugs me.
Aran: That disobediant whelp!  He's lucky Hieroneous is a merciful
god, or by heaven I'd...
Sapphire: Hey, there's something else out there!

Tron hears a snarling  cry behind him, and a hatchet is buried in his back.

Tron: What the...

Illuminated by the flickering aurora, figures charge out of the woods
to the rear and sides of the party, crunching through the shining
snow.  Ghastly, corpse-like forms, the blood frozen in their wounds,
rush the party.

Wendol: Fresssh meat!
Thorwolf: Skraelings!
Skanda: Wendol!
Sapphire: Those zombie-kinda things we fought on that iceberg!
Norel: Wait... if they're coming from behind us... what if they found
the camp?
Nigil: You think the ship is gone?  Maybe Desh was coming to warn us!
Aran: If so, we must make them pay! [shing] Ow!

Now a desperate battle begins.  Tron is separated from the rest of the
party.  He runs to the nearest tree and climbs up it.

Wendol: (tries to climb, but the bough it grabs breaks) Guh! Braaains!
Tron: [twang twang]
Wendol: (twitch) [thud]
Tron: (starts climbing higher)

The rest of the party is together.  There is no sign of Desh, who was
last seen about two hundred feet away.  They are surrounded and
attacked on all sides by almost a dozen of the monsters. They seem to
glide accross the snow, moving faster than a man could run if there
were no snow at all.

Thorwolf: Form a shield wall! [hack]
Wendol: Fressh meat! (hits Thorwolf, badly injuring him)
Nigil: Eat steel, monsters! [cleave]
Wendol#1: Urk.
Wendol#2: [thud]
Norel: Bah, these things can be killed. [hack chop]
Sapphire: You want some of this, huh?  You want some? [slash] Get some!
Skanda: Pholtus, give me your strength! (charges into the fray and
cuts a wendol in half with a single blow of her scimitar)

The party soon organizes into formation.  Nigil, Norel, Skanda, Aran,
and Sapphire form a circle around Thorwolf.  The warrior-priest uses
his bow and his healing magic to support the others.  Skanda has been
given tremendous strength and battle-skill by Pholtus, and is a deadly
opponent.

Nigil: We've almost got 'em all!

Suddenly from out of the darkness twenty more wendol charge the
party.  At the same time they hear the howl of a wolf... still distant,
but too close for comfort.

Aran: They seem immune to the cold power of Frostbringer.  [cleave]
But they feel its edge just the same.
Norel: We must stand together! [hack chop]
Nigil: Take that! [slash] And that! [sever]

The second wave of wendol move past where Desh is hiding. Recognizing the gravity
of the moment, the boy suddenly growls and leaps out to attack the rearmost monster,
stabbing it several times. Unfortunately he does not kill it instantly.  It turns
and attacks him.

Desh: Eep. (stab it again)
Thorwolf: Hang in there, little one! [twang twang]

Meanwhile, Tron has been clearing branches to give him a good field of
fire.  However, two wendol have noticed him.

Wendol#1: Gnnnnnrrrrrr... [climbs up in the tree and hits Tron with its
hatchet]
Tron: (at point blank range, he shoots it three times but only hits it
twice) Uh-oh.
Wendol#1: Aaargh! [chop]
Tron: Ow! [twang twang]
Wendol#1: Urk. (falls from the tree)
Wendol#2: Raargh! (starts trying to climb the tree)
Tron: No you don't. [twang twang twang]
Wendol#2: Urk. (falls, pinned to the ground)
Tron: (badly wounded, he resumes chopping branches)

The fight is going badly for the party.  Although almost all of the
Wendol have been killed, many of the adventurers are badly wounded.
A wide ring of steaming, blood-soaked slush and dozens of the wendol
bodies surrounds the party. The ghostly light of the aurora plays on
the snow. The breath of the living clouds the air. Inhumanly strong
Wendol arms rise and fall, splintering shields and splitting heads.

Skanda: (falls)
Aran: (falls)
Norel: (falls)

Nigil: Uh-oh. [cleave]
Wendol: Urk.
Tron: (shoots a wendol in the back)
Sapphire: And stay down! [stab]
Wendol: (the last survivor, it flees into the night)
Sapphire: Hey, what happened to Desh?

A small figure is visible, sprawled in the snow.

Sapphire: Desh! (starts running towards him on her stubby legs,
floundering through the thick snow) Desh!
Thorwolf: I only have one major healing spell left. (heals Skanda,
then runs after Sapphire)
Skanda: (gets to her feet and heals Aran and Norel)
Tron: (climbs down from his tree and starts retrieving arrows)

Aran: Wait!  There's wolves all around us!  Get to those rocks, we'll
make a stand there!
Nigil: Hmm... I hear wolves, but I don't see them.  Maybe I got hit on
the head too many times.
Tron: There are no wolves.
Aran: But I saw them!  Over there!  Ok, maybe not.
Skanda: No wolves.

Thorwolf slowly walks back towards the party, carrying Desh's body.

Thorwolf: There's nothing I can do for him.  His spirit has left this
world.
Aran: He showed courage near the end.  I am sure that he shall be
numbered among the chosen of Hieroneous.
Nigil: Actually, I think he'd be pretty miserable among the chosen of
Hieroneous. I think they prefer their food cooked.
Aran: You're probably right.  Still, I shall pray for him.
Tron: Let's get moving, we don't want those wolves to find us.
Wolf: Arrrrooooooo!
Norel: We must go before the wolves come.

Skanda is exhausted by her wounds, and her constitution has never been
resiliant. Skanda quickly becomes too exhausted to walk and must be dragged
on a travois. Aran has Desh's quickly freezing body thrown over one shoulder.
There is no talking.

After about another hour of fast hiking, the party comes to a bridge across
a frozen river.  On the far side of the bridge, they can see houses,
and beyond the houses the wall of a city.  At this point they are all
tired out from the cold and exertion.  Even Tron, with his great
endurance, is tired.

Nigil: Nyborg at last!
Aran: I'll be glad to be out of this metal armor.  I think it's frozen
to parts of me I don't want to talk about.

They go to the gates and bang on them.

Guard#1: Be off with ye, Skraelings!  We'll nay open the gates!
Nigil: Strange accents these northerners have.
Tron: We're not Skraelings!  Open the gates! [pound pound pound]

After a pause, a guard appears on the battlements.

Guard#2: Why should we, now?
Nigil: Because we have wounded and we want to come in.
Guard#2: I dinna ken who ye are, ye'll nay pass these gates after
sundoon.
Aran: We'll pay you.

Silver pieces change hands and the party enters Nyborg.

Guard#2: You can find lodging at the sign of the drowned gnome.
Nigil: Hmm, I guess you don't notice the accent after a while.
Guard#2: It's that building over there.

Niborg is a small town, with only one paved street.  A fortress on a
hill looms above the place.  They go to the inn, which has a sign
showing a barrel with two stumpy legs sticking out from it.

Sapphire: I'm deeply offended.
Tron: "Drowned in a butt of malmsey". Heh heh.
Party: Huh?
Tron: I dunno, I just remembered that line.  It might be from an
elvish play.

They knock on the door and the innkeeper, Hogbert, admits them.

Hogbert: Ok, it'll be 20 silver just to clean you up.  We have one
large room and two smaller rooms.  How long are you planning on
staying?
Thorwolf: About a week.
Hogbert: If you don't mind my asking, what's your business here?  We
don't get many travelers in the winter.  Actually, we don't get any
travelers in the winter.
Aran: We're mercenaries, we were, uh, shipwrecked down the coast, it's
been a rough, um, week...
Thorwolf: Two months...
Aran: ...umm, two months I mean...
Thorwolf: But the last week was the roughest.  Yeah.
Hogbert: Ok.  If you're mercenaries, how come you're not staying at
the barracks?
Thorwolf: Well, uhh, we're going to see...
Tron: Maybe we will...
Hogbert: Whatever.  How many rooms do you want?  And what are you
going to do about that? (points to Desh)
Skanda: His name was Desh. He was a hero.

They decide to take two rooms and worry about Desh in the morning.

Hogbert: Firewood'll cost you, with the great tree shortage and
ax rationing and all...
Norel: Just give him some money and make him go away. (yawn)

They do, and he does.

Tron: What do innkeepers do when they're not ripping off adventurers?
Nigil: Tron, shut up and go to sleep.
Norel: Be thankful. We're not sleeping in the snow, and it's cheaper
than some of these inns have been.

Minutes pass until the party begins to sleep.

Skanda: It is always the children that die... Somewhere, somehow, I think
Myra is alive. Pholtus protect the child.

TO BE CONTINUED...