- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- I have a shifting work schedule, so My online times will be random.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Fantasy, scifi, futuristic modern, fantasy modern, Action/adventure, Mystery, Fan-based,
Icewind Dale was named for its winters but it used to be that it was just one of it's four seasons. Used to be…
Now the land is covered in snow, hounded by blizzards, and almost void of direct sunlight. Every morning before the sun rises Auril, the frost maiden rides her white roc through the dark sky and casts her spell. Weaving it through the air in a way that causes light to dance in the sky in wakes of blues greens, golds, and sometimes reds. Raw magic swirls and dances through the air, calling together the cold winds that keep the land in perpetual winter. It's a beautiful sight, one that used to show up only occasionally and inspire awe. Now it brings only fear and resignation.
It's been over two years since this started, and the locals are growing tired, losing hope of summer's return. The ten-towns that mark settled areas have even taken to making sacrifices to the goddess. Some giving up food, others warmth, and a few sending one person out to freeze once every new moon. By doing so they hope to earn Auril's pity.
But she has no Pity.
It is this night, Long-night, that many have come to dread.
In the town of Breman, however, the residents have also used this as a chance to bond together. In Breman they give up a night of warmth every long night, putting out all fires and gathering at the five tavern town center to weather the cold together. They divide their numbers more-or-less evenly between the taverns, crowding into the spaces, and using their own body heat combined with whatever furs, blankets, and rugs each person brings with them to stay warm. Many even stay clothed in their warmest winter outfit, coat boots and all, for the whole of Long-night. Often the residents take turns telling stories or playing tavern games, and of course they buy mead and ale as long as the taps remain open.
It is here, spread across the five taverns, invited to weather the cold with the locals, that fate begins to bring together the lines of seven would-be adventurers.
Outside as a blizzard begins to rage, our would-be adventurers settle in in their chosen tavern location to wait for morning.
All five taverns share the wood beam supported sod exterior and red clay roofs now covered in snow. All their main doors open onto the same town square with painted signs hanging out front. But it is here that the similarity ends.
The first tavern goes by the name "Black-bearded Brother." This, perhaps, was considered to be the most respectable of the five taverns. Certainly it was also the cleanest. A dwarf with a carefully braided black beard runs around taking orders for various patrons while a black bearded human passes around bowls of stew. There is various artwork showcased around the walls (presumably created by various members of the staff) and on the whole it had a very hospitable and homey feel as each table was illuminated by a lantern which flickered cozily.
Most of the townsfolk who had chosen this location for Long-night were those with younger families as the current owner (the son of it's builder) had taken care to hire a bard. For a while there were many songs the patrons could sing along to, and they did, before the tune settled into a soothing ambiance to help calm the cold younglings to sleep.
The second tavern, bearing a sign shaped like a sturdy boat and the words "Even Keel" painted in yellow lettering was a little livelier, and lit a little brighter, though the higher use of whale oil in the lanterns meant there was a slightly fishy smell that permeated the room. Several tables of locals had started up with games of dice and cards and they nursed their drinks. There wasn't a lot of money to go around but there were plenty of things to bet with, help with chores and containers of whale oil being two of the most offered commodities. One young, red-haired, half-elf was even trying to bet help with their research notes.
Next time you go out, take me with you… or take my notebook and record the experience."
"Deal, Tali, and if I win you spend an afternoon helping to gut trout!" The human woman across the table agreed. "Dannika, you playing as well?" She asked as she cracked the deck expertly, even with gloved hands.
The blond haired half-elf seated next to the red haired one nodded. "Deal me in, and if I win I want help with my weather research!"
"Just go stand out in the snow, lass!" A blond dwarf, cloaked and hooded in brown furs, grunted in a rolling voice as he placed a basket of crackers on the table. The whole table burst out in ruckus laughter.
Across the town square stood the "Rivers Mouth," it's sign depicting a stream flowing from between two white stones. It was here that an older, red bearded dwarf had set up a sort of doctor's office/chapel hybrid, the symbol of a set of golden scales flashing from the pin that held his pelt lined cloak closed. The lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile as he mixed herbal tea for sore throats and told inspiring stories of Kelemvor before he became the just God of Passing. He was a good storyteller, though there were a few games of darts going in the other corner as the players only listened with half an ear. His brother listened approvingly from behind the bar and he used a little, carefully constructed whale oil burning stove, to keep a teakettle hot. Once the ninth bell tolled that too would have to be turned off, but for now it was allowed.
A number of families with older children had chosen this as the location of choice to stay for Long-night. The tales keeping their children entertained even while the priest's very presence helped them soothe any fears. Many of the families here had brought every blanket in their house with them, and there were a number of forts and pillow nests being created throughout the inn with the help of an older dwarf baring a white beard and a grandfather's smile, as his son tended bar and his daughter-in-law kept an eye on the weather out of a slit in a well-shuttered window.
Tavern number four was clearly labeled the "Grumpy Moose," and bore a sign paint in such a way that anybody could guess the name even without the blue letters. A group of oil traders from the northern Sea of Moving Ice, had taken up residence here with the town locals, very pleased that they would get one free night's lodging, even if it was going to be a cold one. Of course it was good business practice for the chestnut bearded dwarf who ran the tavern to allow the merchants to set up in his main room. Merchant business attracted patrons which meant more money for the ale and meals he sold to those who hadn't thought to provide their own food for Long-night.
In addition to selling their barrels of whale oil to the locals, the traders were telling numerous stories of what it was like to sail the frozen sea, including several near calls with shifting icebergs, and seeing what one sailor insisted was a white dragon flying across the sky.
This quickly turned into a contest of sorts where one human male with a blacksmith's apron over his heavy coat insisted he had once seen Auril's white roc, and another half-elf trying to one up them with a tale of a close encounter with an Owlbear.
Last but not least the fifth tavers's sign was written with white letters displaying the word "Stones" under what looked to be a painted display of multi-colored rocks stacked on top of one another. It was quieter than the others as far as entertainment goes, though the ale flowed at a discount. It's darkened interior was dimly lit by a set of older whale oil lamps which gave off a faintly fishy smell. Stuffed animal heads were displayed across the walls while the floor bore a light coating of sawdust and nut shells. Each table contained a basket of said nuts, with a cracker, for patrons to munch on.
A grey bearded dwarf twists his beard with his fingers as he directs a younger female version of himself through working the account books. The locals all know he's planning to turn the tavern over to her to run in full within the next couple months, just as they know the russet haired woman is every bit as shrewd as her father.
In one corner a grizzled, grizzly bearded dwarf wrapped in furs seems to be telling fishing stories in hopes of luring help to his boats come morning. But it quickly erupts into other fishers pointing out that the area he wants to explore is host to a number of dangers, including crushing ice flows and what seems to be some sort of overly large fish that can capsize a boat.
Outside the blizzard rages on as daylight dwindles into the cold Long-night. The ninth bell tolls and even the stove fires are put out as the people in Breman take shelter in the Five Taverns and pull their furs closer.
(Location determined by dice roll)
Even Keel - Sylva, Shula
River's Mouth - Kutolo
Grumpy Moose - Sigrid
Stones - Jon Jon, Esther, Merry
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