bramblefoot
the walled town of azmarin is where the two of you have been staying the past few days, waiting out a blizzard before heading out further north into troll country. will both of you please gimme some rumors from the town, and a gossip roll at +10?

 

vladimir: its been quiet, too quiet lately. the guards on the walls are slacking, mostly drinking koumiss and lounging on the walls, not really paying attention

katerina: you had that dream last night, the same one youve been having until you find whatever the gods want you to find. please describe the dream in as much detail as you can, and what your doing now
MrAbdiel
Vladimir is not looking forward to Troll Country.  Mostly, it's the trolls that put him off.  But the country itself isn't so much to brag about, either.

Azmarin had been a comfortable stopover for the young man.  Well supplied; close to the frontier, and so frequented by troops and requiring good roads... lest the frontier retract.  But there hadn't been much action in the town in recent weeks, which suited him just fine even if it made him nervous to see the guards half drunk at their posts some days while the sun was still up.  What if Norscans came?  What if trolls?  What if ratmen?  What if... any number of things.  Vladimir enjoyed having walls; but much prefered that they should be staffed by men that could keep him, and his charge, safe.

His charge was Katarina.  He had met the young Ice Maiden as she returned to the wider world from her guided training, invited to seek more of it though autonomous study.  It had been in Bolgasgrad.  Vladimir had been travelling south, hoping to get to the capital and meet some of the great masters of the tamer's art; perhaps, to learn a few things to add to his skillset.  He had trained Alexei for four years now, and the bear was his friend, his primary source of income, his sacred ally, and his greatest piece of social cache.  Between Alexei and the three dogs, Vladimir was almost a travelling circus in some of the smaller tirsas out in the oblasts; and as long as he was willing to travel, he could make silver comfortable enough to suit him.  Travellers welcomed a bear tamer with them on the roads, and few bandits attacked when such a beast was present.  Fortunate that they did not know the truth - Alexei had been trained to fight, but Vladimir had not permitted him yet to do so lethally against humans.  It was only a matter of time after that before they got a taste for it; and then he would be obliged to surrender Alexei to the Bear Pits of Ursun.  He didn't want that - to have Alexei drafted into a unit of such beasts used a shocktroops in battle, however valorous and noble it was said to be.  Better the bear be safe.

So when Katarina suggested he accompany her on her scholarly journeys as a kind of porter, roustabout and even bodyguard, he thought the idea was very fine indeed.  What idiot would attack an Ice Witch, who was also next to a bear?  And while she was in her rooms or tent studying the ways of winter, he would be free to play his tambourine and train his animals, or in towns like Azmarin, to have them perform and make a little extra money on the side.  The prestige of being in such a woman's entourage was almost payment enough.  But then her studies required her to start moving north, from one town to the next in pursuit of some quality in the air or the clouds he didn't understand.  And as they did, they got further and further away from the safety of the big towns and out into the smaller tirsas.  Now they were in Asmarin, a frontier tirsa bracing against the wilds of Troll Country in which there were outpost towns but much more danger than the oblasts.  Thus, he found himself practicing his fighting sklls more than training his animals after all.  It hadn't come up much, yet.  But that was a big  yet. 

And now the feeling that they were on the edge of something eventful was present in his mind.  He couldn't give much credence to the rumors - that a warparty of kossars were retreating to Azmarin to fortify against a great wave of beastmen from the north; or that most of the guards on the walls were part of some secret, lecherous lodge in which they engaged in unspeakable, unholy activities.  Such rumours were too fantastical, too large scale to be true.  Those things happened to other places, and other people.

 "What do you think, ah?  My big friend?  Ah?"   The narrow, ropey kislevite leaned in to scratch his furry companion around the collar, where the fuzz flattened.  The ursine sage sat placidly through the attention, as if contemplative.

 "Mrrurrr,"  was his verdict.

 "Very much so,"  agreed the kislevite.   "Nothing to worry about, indeed." 
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 

To those in more southerly, warmer lands, the vast empire of Kislev was a brutal, frozen wasteland. Bountiful in fertile soils and minerals, but equally endowed with vicious, backwards barbarians, the Realm of the Ice Queen was at once as familiar as a neighbor but as alien as a foreigner, with the vast, grassy plains morphing into snow-glistening, frozen hellscapes when the dread season of winter blanketed the land. Populated by grim, mustachioed cossacks who drew sabers and bows from horse-back and for whom the cold was a comfort, this bleak empire sat as the sole barrier between them and the nightmare of Chaos even further to the north. A harsh land. A powerful land. A wealthy land. A land so vast its own people did not fully understand it, nor themselves.

All of these things were true, but only to certain degrees, some more than others. This land was harsh and severe, but only because it had to be. The craggy mountains that rose across the border to the north would routinely disgorge hordes of screaming, fur-clad marauders and thickly armored warriors of chaos to burn, loot and pillage, and it was the incumbent on those who called this realm home to cut them down and leave them in the snow as feast for the carrion. More destructive and insidious still were the packs of shaggy-furred beastmen that lurked in the forests, for the depth of their situation in Kislev allowed the peasantry and their farms to be the most easily accessible prey, the destruction of which could have ripple-on effects of starvation before the bands were located, isolated and eliminated. Still yet did other menaces lurk in the land of snow and ice, as cults were not unheard of, for the long, dark winter nights could give way to the kind of licentiousness that Slaanesh found most pleasing. Finally, the spirits of the earth themselves did not stay silent for long, and their unpredictable and capricious nature made them perhaps the most feared enemies of all. With the rampaging warbands of Chaos you knew where you stood. But an ethereal, otherworldly specter of the icy hills? You would only discover its disposition when it was too late do to anything about it.

Yet despite these constant companions, and many more, the Kislevites, Godspar and Ungol both, had flourished and carved out an empire that, while not technologically a match for their southerly neighbors, most certainly met them in vigour and valour. After all, this was not a land that long entrusted life to the weak or the timid. So different was this realm that the flow of magic took on another form, distant and only a passing familial relation to the colored winds of the southerly lands. Here, the blood, the  essence  of the earth itself could be sensed and shaped by the famed and dreaded Ice Witches of Kislev, an intimidating sisterhood that scoured their realm each year to take away the shivering girls that showed any promise for manipulating the ley-lines of this vast, cold land. Few would ever see their families again, and those who did, were forever changed, for noble born or peasant reared, the Ice Witches would all either fall in the defense of their Motherland, or eventually wander off into the frigid, endless oblasts where they would slowly turn into ice themselves and return to the arcane life-force of the land. This was a brutal land, but it had to be.

That one of two fates that awaited her one day, Katarina had pondered silently to herself as she had sat atop her horse, Felix, on the road to Azmarin, the endless frozen plains stretching out to either side, their horizons hidden behind swirling banks of wind and snow. Much as it had been in that vision that brought her out here, further and further to the north-west of the Motherland, towards the troll country: a swirling blizzard across a field, figures moving - fighting? - within, but all of them beneath a singular, sapphire eye that was held within the maw of a statue dedicated to Great Father Bear. It was vague, for now, but Kataraina felt the pull of this vision for months until finally embarking towards Troll Country from whence the vision came.

The town itself had been both elated and fearful to receive a traveling witch, was to be expected. They were considered saviors and sages, but also as harsh and dreaded as the winter itself. Katarina's appearance had drawn stares and hushed whispers, as her fine quality winter clothing marked her out as someone of importance at least, though it could also have been Alexei that had warranted the excitable whispers. Nevertheless, the Witch had paid up front for the best quality lodging available in the town, and had received it, while she had also covered the cost for her companion and impromptu bodyguard, Vladimir. A bear-tamer whose beautiful pet had drawn Katarina's eye and facilitated their first conversation, the man was from the same region of Kislev as she, and its harshest, the North, and the two had been traveling companions for weeks now. Though the Ice Witches ways may have seemed mysterious to the bear-trainer, the anti-climactic truth was that she was far from the dread aspect of winter that were her more advanced 'sisters of the craft'. Katarina was barely into her 20s and had only recently been released from her own formalised training. Not that that didn't stop her enjoying a bit of pomp and ceremony. She had been born a peasant, so she rather liked the idea that she was now someone of importance, even if that consideration was laced with fear.

Thus, while Vladimir had been enjoying the town, Katarina had taken on an improvised role as almost some type of seer. When word spread throughout the establishment that a famed Ice Witch had stopped for several days, the superstitious people had sought her counsel. The fact she was a nearly baby-faced youth who was only starting to develop the pleasing angles of adult womanhood didn't matter - she was a Witch, she knew magic and the land. What else was there?

And so, Katarina, unable to resist the personal little satisfaction of feeling important, had sat at her table within the tavern, offered free, good meals such as Solyanka, Pierogi and Pelmeni, townspeople would ask permission to sit and receive her counsel.

It also allowed her to pick up on rumors within the town by putting two and two together. One young man thought his wife was cheating on him. A woman thinks her son spends too much time hanging around with the guards when he should be watching the family winter stores. Another man believed there was a horse thief in town, and wanted to know how to protect his stables. A young woman was worried about her elderly father who had suddenly become quite sick. A tavern owner stated that a group of unsettling, darkly-clad men had come through town and then disappeared into the blizzard, believing them to be secret police.

After a day of counsel, speaking her mind and offering advice, Katarina had a table to herself, some warm, steaming Pelmeni resting in a bowl, coated with green onions, dill and sour cream, while Kvas was off to her other side.
bramblefoot
vladimir: around midday the guards will quickly swing the oaken gates open to reveal a battered kossar astride a panting elk. the kossar dismounts, and quickly heads towards you  "we have a minor problem"  he says, revealing that beastmen are on the way to this little village, and will probably be here within a few hours.  "get these men sobered up"  he orders vladimir, and stalks off to give a sitrep

katerina: you see a battered kossar walk in and snap you a salute.  "we'll need you on the walls in a few hours"  he says, taking a seat next to you.  "a small brayherd is on the prowl headed this way" 

wdyd?
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 

Katarina was enjoying the steamed bowl of dumplings before her as the Kossar, battered and tired, entered into the tavern.

Her gave her a small salute, which she liked, but when he made the move to sit next to her, Katarina's back stiffened and her eyes shimmered in a gentle, subtle hint: I didn't give you permission to sit next to me. The man would hesitate, his words emerging out.

 "Are you  asking  me to assist in the defence of the town?"  Katarina would correct, the main word there: asking. She was not some guard to be ordered about.

The confirmation would come in.

Her demeanor softened as she nodded and stood up, grabbing her staff.

 "You look tired, here,"  she pushed her bowl of warm dumplings towards the man,  "you need your strength,"  as she remained standing. A subtle chastisement followed by a mercy.

 "Tell me more of this brayherd: from where? How many? What leaders are among them?" 
MrAbdiel
Vladimir is quite proud of his coif.  It's in good condition; barely damaged at all.  He bought it from a peddlar who must have picked it off the body of a freebooter, but one who did not die from a head wound.  With the way that Alexei likes to nuzzle and sometimes forget his teeth, he is convinced that it will save him much trouble.  Unfortunately, it does make him look like a soldier of some kind.

Vladimir looks on in amazement.  The poor elk looks exhausted - they are burden beasts, but not typically ridden; their backs are too sloped for it.  The Kossar's situation must be desperate.  Desperate enough to task him with getting the guards ready for a coming attack - a daunting proposition, since he has no authority over them and those are professional military men who are half drunk.  His first instinct is to take his animals and flee - but then he'd be exposed to the danger he was supposed to rouse the guards for!  Whatever happened, he would fare better if the guards were roused.... And so he bits his beasts to stay and storms up on to the ramparts, hoping the momentum of his stride is enough to convey authority - since he has none.

 "Look alive, soldier!  Put that down - brace yourself for action!  You there - throw up if you have to, but then drink some water and get back here right away.  You - eat that bread right now, you'll need it in a minute!"   Slapping kourmiss from the hands of gate guards and wall watchers, he storms through with all his invested authority brought forth to intimidate.
bramblefoot
vladimir: the guards will grudgingly put away their flasks, and gather weapons for the beastmen raid.

katarina: the kossar digs into the dumplings, saying  "two medium sized brayherds are being pushed south. i got a glimpse of the leader, and hes one tough customer"  he describes what katarina would think to be a minor emissary of chaos.

he will ask katarina to help defend the walls

 
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 

So there were  two  brayherds? Oh, wonderful. When it rained, it poured.

However, worse still...Katarina hadn't exactly  fought  beastmen before. Well, here or there was a minor encounter. But a brayherd, two of them, attacking a town? She had been a witch cloistered away with her teacher and studying the way of ice. This was much more...forward and direct than she was used to. But, as she had sat there at this table the whole day and received townspeople for counsel, she knew it was a duty of hers to be a symbol that they looked to for reassurance. She could enjoy the prestige and respect and fear that the mantle of Ice Witch bestowed upon her, but so too did she need to meet the obligations.

Steeling her inner resolve, Katarina nodded at the  request .

 "I will assist in whatever way I can,"  she stated firmly, giving a curt and polite nod before withdrawing, her blue-and-white clothing billowing behind her gently while her black hair was drawn back into a single braid beneath her beautifully tailored muskrat Shapka.

Katarina Zhukov would move to confer with the guards, or whatever authority there was to consult with. The first order of business was to barricade the gates and wall ramparts, while ensuring that those unable to fight or help were stored safely.
MrAbdiel
 "See that you do!"   Vladimir says to the final reprobate guard, before storming down the stairs and rounding back to his beasts, breaking into a sweat of relief that he was not stopped and questioned during his charade.  First order of business is to get his elk and hounds to the stable and kennels.

 "The girls will be good, Peter; I trust you implicitly."  He tells this to the stable and kennelmaster, promising a few extra silver for him after the danger has passed.  Now it's just him and Alexei - and Miss Zhuvok, whom he ought to find right away!
bramblefoot
the walls are manned, and now the waiting game begins. will both of you roll willpower at +10 or take a -5 to ws for vladimir, and a -1 to spellcasting for katarina

after that, the brayherd arrives with a few hours of daylight to spare. they appear to have brought ladders, and the minor chaos emissary is there, albeit out of range for now. the beastmen appear belligerent and itching for a fight.

the beastmen will start off with a round of braying to psych themselves up, and then run toward the walls, carrying ladders and crude weapons. they will make it to the walls next round

whoever wishes to roll for the ranged boys on the wall, please roll five shortbow attacks at -20 to see if you drop any of the beastmen

the emissary will attempt to blow the bejeezus out of the gate

 (3d10)[ 3 ][ 6 ][ 2 ](11) 
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 


Katarina's presence in the town seemed to add a degree of reassurance to the populace as word spread of the incoming brayherd. This was the charge and station of the Ice Witches of Kislev, a sisterhood whom were both respected and feared, but also looked to as saviours.

Having pushed into the howling winds of the town streets, the swirling mists dotted with snow, the woman narrowed her eyes as she looked about and saw preparations underway. Homes were being boarded up, children and women hurried into the most secure positions available, and the young, capable men receiving weapons and armor while the younger boys and older men were relegated to the truly last line of defense. Moving through this, Katarina kept her chin high, only offering small gestures with her hand like a forgiving priest whenever anyone halted their business and bowed hurriedly before her in respect to, not necessarily  her  as an individual, but the institution that she represented. As far as these people were concerned, she was an extension of the Tsarina herself, here to aid them in this great time of need.

However, the truth was that Katarina was terrified. She'd never received a brayherd before, let alone  two  of them.

Soon, however, she found Vladimir and the two conferred as the hours ticked on...

 oOo 
It was almost dusk when the heard could almost be  smelled  before seen, as the hollering and whooping emerged from the banks of wind and fog. They hollered and bellowed like the animals they were, while Katarina inhaled and pursed her lips.

The Witch closed her eyes and reached her mind deep into the ley-lines of power within this land: her spirit drawing forth just a sliver of the soul that inhabited her homeland, the rime of the field stirring and the winds harkening to her summongs as she drew her hands up as if directing a choir - the blizzard before them intensifying about the brayherd and taking on a more vicious and impactful form, the slicing, biting cold sinking into the flesh of the beastment about their emissary...
MrAbdiel
The howl of the magical blizzard is an unpleasant music.  Majestic as it was, magic still gave him discomfort.  Unnatural; disquieting.. even when it was destroying beastmen.

Not that he could see it.  Vladimir and Alexei remained off the wall, beyond the battered gate.  Ready, cudgel in hand, to fight if has to... hoping it wouldn't come to that.
 
"There there, Alexei.  Peace, peace..." 
bramblefoot
katarina: the beastmen keep moving through the biting cold. none of them have died yet, but they are also not looking particularly happy. of the chaos emissary, there is no sign of him

vladimir: alexei sniffs the air, and growls low. what does this signal usually?
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 

About them, men were loosing arrows and the roar of the blizzard intensified. Katarina, panting heavily as the ice magic of the ley-lines flowed through her, did not cease her direction of the savour of Kislev - she only intensified it.

Once more the frozen land stirred on the periphery of the billowing, knife-icicle hurling blizzard; chunks of the frosted dirt hurtling into the air before crashing down in a thunderous hail of iced-over rocks as a greeting for the beastmen just emerging from the blizzard.
MrAbdiel
Alexei sniffs, and growls.  Vladimir's neck hair stiffens.

It's a superstition, of course; but he is a superstitious kind of fellow. And Alexei has always had a good sense of judgement of people.  Usually, he is the first to detect an act of treachery before it happens.  Nervously, Vladimir lets his eyes track across the guards on the wall - especially those near Miss Zhukov - for possible disloyalty...
bramblefoot
vladimir, you spot a teenage boy wielding an axe just a little too big for him. his wild eyes lock with yours and he grins, showing far too many teeth. he'll put the axe into katarinas back. can i get a flat wp test or take an IP?

 

katarina: you feel a pain in your back as an axe is slammed into your back by a teenage boy with wild eyes

can i get a wp test at -10 or lose the spells already on the field?
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 

Katarina was in her state of semi-entrancement when that axe found her back. Fortunately for her, the power behind the blow was minimal, as the dull cutting edge left more of a concussive impact against her body through the thick winter clothing she wore.

Still. She had been attacked  from behind .

Eyes widening, the spell having run its course anyway, Katarina turned on the spot to behold the betrayer: her eyes flashing with the ice cold fury of a winter tempest.

 "Traitor!"  she bellowed, drawing up her hand and uttering several words. No sooner had she stopped than a bluish-white light coalesced around her gesture, nine suspended icicles materialising and whistling towards the stupid boy.
MrAbdiel
 
 Spoiler: Insanity! 
  VS46WillpowerVsInsanity  - (1d100)[ 11 ] 
 

 "Lookout!"  Vladimir calls too late, cringing as the boy swings at the witch - cringing again when she whirls around and blasts him to crimson shards scattering on to the courtyard below.  Grimacing at the sheer bloody violence of the execution, he calls up to Katerina somewhat redundantly:

 "Are you alright?" 
bramblefoot
katarina: the boy smiles through a mouthful of blood, and disappears in a puff of ice crystals with a mocking laugh on the wind. whatever he was, it's likely he'll be back. the beastmen are still coming, and four black bolts come out of the blizzard, two headed for katarina, and two for the kossar on the wall. the beastmen are still coming, their braying getting closer

katarina attacks

 (1d10+4)[ 12 ] 
 (1d10+4)[ 13 ] 

kossar attacks
 (1d10+4)[ 12 ] 
 (1d10+4)[ 10 ] 

vladimir: youd spot the boy disappear in a flurry of ice and snow. whatever magic he has, its almost certain he stole it from an ice witch, or killed one to get it
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 


Katarina takes the two black magical bolts in her back, her eyes widening as she topples forward, dead. Another one of the sisterhood has fallen in defence of the Motherland.
MrAbdiel
  "No!"  

An awful turn.  Katerina was his charge - her falling in this way was both a grievous loss, but also a reflection upon him, as a potential guardian.  He should have insisted to be on the wall!  Then he could have... what?

Jumped in front of the magic?

Imagination of undone heroisms aside, Vladimir calls Alexei to stay and races up the stairs three at a time to scoop the dead - no, just pierced and unconcious - Ice Maiden off the stone of the rampart, and start back down with her.  She had done her part - he can only hope the defenders of the walls have benefit enough from her magical artillery to make the defence possible.

 "Healer!  We need a healer here!" 
bramblefoot
the healer will rush up, and quickly stabilize katarina with plenty of bandages, and pours a stimulant brew down her throat

katarina is currently up at zero wounds, and the kossar is not long for this world

vladimir: the beastmen are dropping like flies, but continuing steadfastly forward

whats the play?
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 


Was it a white light she had been drawn to? Or the ley-line energies of Kislev beckoning her towards an enternal, gentle rest?

Katarine seemed to drift in space, no ground beneath her feet and all at peace. No sounds. No sensations. No worry upon the mind. Just pure tranquility and bliss.

Until she was drawn back to the present.

The Ice Witch inhaled an lungful of air in half a second, mouth wide, back arched as she returned to the material world, eyes alive and wide as she threw her gaze all around her. Her heart beat against her ribcage like a furious prisoner and she blinked in hurried panic as she regauged herself and took her bearings.
MrAbdiel
 "Ah!  Ahah, you're alive - stay down, Miss Zhukov; you were struck in the head, but this good doctor has revived you.  But the battle is not over - I will come back!" 

And off he goes the moment she stabilizes, puffing and huffing.  Alexei watches him dash by and up the stairs again, to where the kossar fell.  The fellow was in an extremely bad way - as would everyone be, if this continued.  It was plain as day to Vladimir that when Karerina was on the wall, there was purpose; her magic depleted the enemy badly. But with her disabled, watching from the wall only gave the enemy wizard targets to strike from out of the blizzard - not to mention exposed more to backstrikes from that... whatever that child was.  The beastmen were battered by the Frost Maiden's spells -they could overcome them in a toe to toe fight, now.  But the man who could give that order was out, and possibly not getting up again.

At this point, Vladimir was forced to make a choice.  The lie he was about to tell would have him hung for a traitor at worst or, in the best possible scenario, celebrated and perhaps rewarded. But the former was more likely.  But without telling that, more good men would get picked off the wall and when the beastmen knocked down the gate there would be not enough healthy men to oppose them; all would be for naught.

 "I've got you, comrade!"  He shouts, loudly so the other men on the wall can hear, and scoops up the stricken kossar.  Then he leans in as if listening at the man's unmoving lips.   "What's that, comrade kossar?  Ah?  But comrade, that's -  Ah!  I see your cunning!"   And then, at a shout as he carries the man down the stairs.   "Off the walls!  All to the gate!  All to the gate!  We open the gate and fight them choked in the threshold!  You heard the man!  Off the walls!  All to the gate, then let them open and stand to fight!" 

And then back he went, puffing and huffing past Alexei to deposit the magically struck-down kossar to the healer as well.  There might be only little chance for him to live - it might be better for Vladimir's future that he didn't! - but the man had stood and fallen bravely, and deserved a chance to cling to life.  Finally, taking up club and shield again, the bear-tamer once again slams the door behind him as he rushes back to the gate, trying to psych himself up to join the  fray against the bray. 
bramblefoot
vladimir: alright, so the men come off the wall, and line up on the gate, swinging it open. where are you and alexei in the rows of men?

katarina: what are you doing?
MrAbdiel
Vladimir would much prefer to be further back - but Alexei isn't exactly subtle, and the presence of a bear reminds soldiers that great Ursun is with them.  So, with reluctance, he is placed somewhat centrally, shield up, as the gates fly open.
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 


Katarina came back into the world gulping down air, her eyes alive with both fright and panic as she shot her gaze across the room to try and anchor her mind to where she was at this point in time. Breathing hard, her chest rising and falling, the Ice Witch attempted to draw herself up from the prone position, only to grimace in pain and slink backwards for a second. Exhaling, steadying herself and trying one more time, Katarina finally drew herself up, groggy and clearly exhausted after just getting blasted into the afterlife by a wizard only to be brought back to the realm of the living.

 "Da, da, spasibo..."  she gently waved away the attendant, stumbling about as she was as she leaned against a wall to gain her bearings.

The Ice Witch uttered some words of power as a shimmer of bluish-white light rolled over her image as she hobbled towards a position of vantage and relative safety - a place where she could see the gates, but be behind cover.

Watching that gate bulge inwards, knowing it wasn't long for this world, Katarina closed her eyes and reached once more into the earth - moving about her staff as if conducting a choir, as the ground around the gate and before it suddenly hardened into a sheet of ice awaiting the movement a surging herd of beastmen would foolishly trample across it...
bramblefoot
vladimir: the brayherd comes charging through, and promptly slip and fall on their keesters. they will need to get up before attacking.

katarina: the plan works perfectly, and the beastmen are prone

your move players
MrAbdiel
He has seen ice magic up close enough to no longer be amazed by it, but he is pleased to see the remaining beastmen struggling with the ice.  The sheet might last a while, and surging out onto it would be madness.

 "Line the edge of the frost! Brave Ursun is with us!" 

This is a good idea, and he hopes the Kossars aren't fool enough to go out and slip over like the beastmen.  On the other hand, some of them might have pistols or bows - and he sets the example by putting away his cudgel, pulling out a javelin, and hurling it at one of the beastmen struggling on the ice!

 
 Spoiler: OOC: 
Attacking a knocked down target is +10%.

In many Warhammer/40k games, ranged attacks against prone targets are harder, not easier.  If that's the case here, I'll yeet at one of the ones standing up at 10 less BS than the roll below.  But as it stands, WFRP seems to intepret the loss of mobility from falling over as generally more detrimental than the reduced profile is at avoiding shots in most cases.

  vs43  - (1d100)[ 10 ]  for  (1d10+4)[ 13 ] .

LMAO.  13 damage to the head.  Bam.  Right between the eyes.
 
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 


Katarina used her elevated position as best she could. Watching the throng of beastmen pile in through the gate only to all scatter and skid in all directions, toppling over each other, the Ice Maiden smiled.

Drawing her bow up, she took aim and let loose an arrow into the packed in scrum.
bramblefoot
vladimir: the javelin goes right through the eyes, killing a beastman very dead the beastmen will stand as a half action, and make attacks. a large gor with maddened eyes will move to make an attack against you

 (1d100)[ 58 ]  miss

 (1d10+3)[ 8 ] 

would you kindly take care of the beastmen against the kislevites for me?

katarina: your arrow goes wide, almost hitting a soldier in the back
MrAbdiel
 
 Spoiler: OOC: Kossars Vs Gors, the Ancient Battle Continues 


Bramble, I'll leave it to you to decide total numbers of combatants and so forth; but let's say that we're dealing with a 10vs10 scenario.  There are probably more beastmen, but they are slipping over still and will for a couple of minutes, so these are the upright ones dueling with the Kossars.
Average Kossar relevant stats:

WS36, Wounds 11, TB and SB 3, Armor 3 (Body) 2 (Legs), 1 (Arms).  Strike to Injure.  Dodge Blow (31). Great Axe.

Average Gor relevant stats:

WS40, Wounds 6/12, TB 4, SB 3.  Two hand weapons (Poor).  Statistically, 1 in 4 of them will have mutations.  I'll... Sort that out in my roller channel right now. BRB.

Aaaand we're back.

Gor3 has  Thick Fur  for an extra point of natural armor.
Gor7 has a  Zoological Mutation  - the left leg of a TIGER!  Rawr.
Gor9 has ... the  Burning Body  mutation.  Holy Moly.  He's at -10% to hit him, and when he hits, his enemies make Agi tests or burst into flame.

Everyone attacks their opposite numbers.  Single attacks this round as everyone shuffles into engagement.

Gor 1   vs35  - (1d100)[ 84 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 10 ] .  Parry:   vs35  - (1d100)[ 41 ] .
Kossar 1   vs36  - (1d100)[ 45 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 7 ]  or  (1d10+3)[ 10 ] .  Dodge:   vs31  - (1d100)[ 3 ] .

Gor 2   vs35  - (1d100)[ 34 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 7 ] .  Parry:   vs35  - (1d100)[ 80 ] .
Kossar 2   vs36  - (1d100)[ 19 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 9 ]  or  (1d10+3)[ 12 ] .  Dodge:   vs31  - (1d100)[ 1 ] .

Gor 3   vs35  - (1d100)[ 12 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 6 ] .  Parry:   vs35  - (1d100)[ 60 ] .
Kossar 3   vs36  - (1d100)[ 73 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 12 ]  or  (1d10+3)[ 6 ] .  Dodge:   vs31  - (1d100)[ 90 ] .

Gor 4   vs35  - (1d100)[ 19 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 12 ] .  Parry:   vs35  - (1d100)[ 20 ] .
Kossar 4   vs36  - (1d100)[ 63 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 9 ]  or  (1d10+3)[ 13 ] .  Dodge:   vs31  - (1d100)[ 51 ] .

Gor 5   vs35  - (1d100)[ 86 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 5 ] .  Parry:   vs35  - (1d100)[ 78 ] .
Kossar 5   vs36  - (1d100)[ 69 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 12 ]  or  (1d10+3)[ 5 ] .  Dodge:   vs31  - (1d100)[ 13 ] .

Gor 6   vs35  - (1d100)[ 18 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 12 ] .  Parry:   vs35  - (1d100)[ 15 ] .
Kossar 6   vs36  - (1d100)[ 52 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 5 ]  or  (1d10+3)[ 13 ] .  Dodge:   vs31  - (1d100)[ 70 ] .

Gor 7   vs35  - (1d100)[ 66 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 12 ] .  Parry:   vs35  - (1d100)[ 71 ] .
Kossar 7   vs36  - (1d100)[ 77 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 4 ]  or  (1d10+3)[ 6 ] .  Dodge:   vs31  - (1d100)[ 50 ] .

Gor 8   vs35  - (1d100)[ 94 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 9 ] .  Parry:   vs35  - (1d100)[ 39 ] .
Kossar 8   vs36  - (1d100)[ 12 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 8 ]  or  (1d10+3)[ 9 ] .  Dodge:   vs31  - (1d100)[ 74 ] .

Gor 9   vs35  - (1d100)[ 95 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 8 ] .  Parry:   vs35  - (1d100)[ 24 ] .
Kossar 9   vs36  - (1d100)[ 80 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 10 ]  or  (1d10+3)[ 4 ] .  Dodge:   vs31  - (1d100)[ 48 ] .

Gor 10   vs35  - (1d100)[ 47 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 5 ] .  Parry:   vs35  - (1d100)[ 61 ] .
Kossar 10   vs36  - (1d100)[ 65 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 4 ]  or  (1d10+3)[ 11 ] .  Dodge:   vs31  - (1d100)[ 16 ] .

Outcomes:

Kossar1 (11/11), Gor1 (6/12)
Kossar2 (11/11), Gor2  (0/12) (3pt Crit - Leg Numbed for 1 Round)
Kossar3 (10/11) , Gor3 (6/12)
Kossar4 (5/11), Gor4 (6/12)
Kossar5 (11/11), Gor5 (6/12)
Kossar6 (11/11), Gor6 (6/12)
Kossar7 (5/11), Gor7 (6/12)
Kossar8 (11/11), Gor8 (1/12)
Kossar9 (11/11), Gor9 (6/12)
Kossar10 (11/11), Gor10 (6/12)
 


The Kossars and the beastmen who are able to find their legs clash with conservative strikes.  A couple of kossars take non-trivial hits and some deal them out in return, though the beastmen hold. Most notably, one of the beastmen from the ranks suddenly erupts into scarlet flame which does not seem to burn him - but hazards the kossar he fights, as the man leans back out of the way of a flaming headbutt!
MrAbdiel
As the huge beastman steps up, Vladimir manages to take the blow on his shield; holding it bay long enough to snatch up his iron-capped club and swing at the monster!

 
 Spoiler: Attack! 
  vs52  - (1d100)[ 80 ]  for  (1d10+5)[ 9 ]  - whiff!
 
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 


The Ice Witch watched how the Kossar's fell upon the beastmen, swords clashing against shields and man against beast. The Kossars were brave and skilled, while the brayherd was a vicious and formidable opponent.

Wanting to do her part to help tilt the odds in their favour - more than she had so already - Katarina closed her eyes and whispered gently, reaching once more into the earth and summoning forth a wall of blue-white ice bursting forth from the crust of the ground across the gaps in the beastmens ranks. The clear intent was to separate them from one group to two smaller ones that could be easier to defeat piecemeal.
bramblefoot
vladimir: the gor will make an attack, its mad eyes staring into yours

 (3d100)[ 91 ][ 13 ][ 56 ](160) 
 (1d10+3)[ 11 ] 
 (1d10+3)[ 12 ]  1 hit
 (1d10+3)[ 11 ] 

katerina: the gors behind the ice wall will flee
MrAbdiel
The blow bashes onto Vladimir's shield with arm jarring force, and the tamer grunts as he attempts to swing his cudgel to deliver one in return:

 
 Spoiler: OOC: 
Aim and attack!   Vs62  - (1d100)[ 15 ]  for  (1d10+5)[ 14 ] 
 


Around, the battle rages on.  The beastmen are cut off, now; they can not dare the ice to try a complex breakout, so they swing with wild abandon at the Kislevites; who measure their responses more carefully!

 
 Spoiler: OOC: 
Kossars are going to guarded attack this turn (-10 to hit, +10 defend); beastmen All Out Attack.

Gor1 -   vs55  - (1d100)[ 10 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 9 ] 
Kossar1 -   vs26  - (1d100)[ 41 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 5 ]  or   (1d10+3)[ 5 ] .    Dodgevs41  - (1d100)[ 70 ] 

Gor2 -   vs55  - (1d100)[ 79 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 5 ] 
Kossar2 -   vs26  - (1d100)[ 4 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 6 ]  or   (1d10+3)[ 6 ] .    Dodgevs41  - (1d100)[ 73 ] 

Gor3 -   vs55  - (1d100)[ 28 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 4 ] 
Kossar3 -   vs26  - (1d100)[ 94 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 7 ]  or   (1d10+3)[ 9 ] .    Dodgevs41  - (1d100)[ 79 ] 

Gor4 -   vs55  - (1d100)[ 99 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 12 ] 
Kossar4 -   vs26  - (1d100)[ 52 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 5 ]  or   (1d10+3)[ 13 ] .    Dodgevs41  - (1d100)[ 22 ] 

Gor5 -   vs55  - (1d100)[ 23 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 9 ] 
Kossar5 -   vs26  - (1d100)[ 12 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 12 ]  or   (1d10+3)[ 4 ] .    Dodgevs41  - (1d100)[ 27 ] 

Gor6 -   vs55  - (1d100)[ 69 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 5 ] 
Kossar6 -   vs26  - (1d100)[ 80 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 4 ]  or   (1d10+3)[ 7 ] .    Dodgevs41  - (1d100)[ 99 ] 

Gor7 -   vs55  - (1d100)[ 79 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 5 ] 
Kossar7 -   vs26  - (1d100)[ 16 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 12 ]  or   (1d10+3)[ 8 ] .    Dodgevs41  - (1d100)[ 41 ] 

Gor8 -   vs55  - (1d100)[ 55 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 10 ] 
Kossar8 -   vs26  - (1d100)[ 45 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 8 ]  or   (1d10+3)[ 4 ] .    Dodgevs41  - (1d100)[ 97 ] 

Gor9 -   vs55  - (1d100)[ 27 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 4 ] 
Kossar9 -   vs26  - (1d100)[ 85 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 11 ]  or   (1d10+3)[ 6 ] .    Dodgevs41  - (1d100)[ 80 ] 

Gor10 -   vs55  - (1d100)[ 100 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 8 ] 
Kossar10 -   vs26  - (1d100)[ 37 ]  for  (1d10+3)[ 5 ]  or   (1d10+3)[ 6 ] .    Dodgevs41  - (1d100)[ 43 ] 


Kossar1 (5/11), Gor1 (6/12)
Kossar2 (11/11), Gor2 (0/12) (3pt Crit - Arm Numbed for 1 Round)
Kossar3 (10/11) , Gor3 (6/12)
Kossar4 (5/11), Gor4 (6/12)
Kossar5 (11/11), Gor5 (0/12) (7pt Crit - Right Arm Ruined, Bleeding)
Kossar6 (11/11), Gor6 (6/12)
Kossar7 (5/11), Gor7 (0/12) (6pt Crit - Stunned for 8 Rounds!)
Kossar8 (7/11), Gor8 (1/12)
Kossar9 (11/11), Gor9 (6/12)
Kossar10 (11/11), Gor10 (6/12)
 


Despite their ferocity, the beastmen fail to burden the Kossars with casualties.  Having been battered by ice magic on the way in, the reprisals that get through start to be telling - some of the beastmen take savage blows that leave them disarmed, or winded.
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 

Katarina exhaled as she watched the sheet of thick, blue-white ice crack out of the ground and through the pack of beastmen, separating a half of them from an exit and the other half from aiding their fellows. This, as the Ice Witch had hoped, had disintegrated the brayherd attack and enabled the Kossar guards to defeat them piecemeal. By the time the ice wall would come down, the other half of the pack of beastmen would be outnumbered.

Smiling to herself, Katarina leaned against her staff, her body already heavily wounded so far, her relief worn across her face as she watched the remaining beastmen turn tail and flee while their remaining herd was cut down.
bramblefoot
the beastmen fall, and the wounded are treated. then, the music starts up, and the celebrations begin. you are both hailed as heroes in this little settlement.

vladimir: you are given the fallen kossars sword, a good quality blade with silver filigree inlaid in the handle, along with a sash marking you as an honorary kossar

 
 Spoiler: custom talent vladimir 
friend of kossars: +10 to fellowship when among kossars with this blade and sash
 

 

katarina: you are given a trio of healing draughts, and a small blue gemstone worth 20 gc

rolling for healing

 (1d100)[ 32 ]  success

 (1d10)[ 10 ] 

take 100 xp
MrAbdiel
Vladimir is surprised to have gotten through the fight without being mauled to death; he is astonished when the Kossars do not string him up for bluffing authority in the fight, but instead honor him with the gift blade.  He gives an appropriate amount of taciturn Kislevite grief for the fallen warrior, Kostya; he did not know him, but all the same they are bound by strange fate.  Kostya's last battle was Vladimir's first; and the blade carries on from one to the other.

He cannot help but wonder who held it, before Kostya; who would be gifted it, taken from his cold hand.

 "Glory to Kislev, boys.  Look at the pile we have made of them - burning fur has never smelled better." 

After he is freed from the companionship of the Kossars and duties with the immediate cleanup, he returns to Katarina's side, just as the medics finish fixing her wounds with poultice and care.  He looks sheepish, and crestfallen; she had nearly been killed, but he squeezes his cap in his hands.

 "You, ah... have my apologies, Lady.  Little help they are.  Perhaps, if I had been up on the wall, I might have caught that magical dart instead; which is the circumstance for which you pay me.  If you wish, I shall help you find an alternative bodyguard for your studies.  We are close to the wild places; there are certainly rugged types who might be persuaded." 
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 

The Ice Witch turned to behold Vladimir as the man came to her in humility, literally with his hat in his hand and dressed in a paupers visage. He was not pitiful, but he was remorseful, perhaps guilty, that it had not been he upon the ramparts that had taken upon himself the eldritch energies of the hostile magic user. Or maybe in his heart of hearts he didn't care, and was thankful that it was better her and instead of him. Katarina had not known him for long enough to decided which with any true certainty.

But, perhaps it was better to err on the side of caution - to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, she would be traveling with him still, and should this 'mistake' happen again, well then it would confirm her more regrettable thoughts. And, if it did not, if indeed Vladimir threw himself before her and intercepted incoming danger, well, a path to redemption had been revealed by Great Father Bear!

 "Consider it your arc of redemption, Vladimir,"  Katarina responded, leaning heavily on her staff, breathing heavily, blood visible across her beautifully crafted white-and-grey winter clothing - her blood.
bramblefoot
vladimir: after the celebrations wind down, where do we find you in the village? also if your willing, gimme a sentimental token and what it means to you

katarina: as you bed down for the night, you find a scrap of paper in your pocket. it has a crude glyph on it in an unknown language, one that blazes with magical power

can i get a prophetic dream from both of you?
MrAbdiel
Vladimir is contrite - though if he was a more thoughtful man, he might wonder if he did not have a case to argue that mustering the Kossars to defend the gate was also critically important.  But he is not the kind of man to make excuses even if they are valid - he said he would do a thing, and he did not; and he is content that Katarina has not decided to cut him loose - and that she seems to be recovering from the terrible blow.

He vows to himself to work harder to keep her from harm.  He vows to himself because, while he has a necessary minimum of respect for the gods, he is not overly pious; indeed, he has a certain dislike for the Cult of Ursun because he worries one day they will want to take Alexei to the bear-pits and make him a warbear, or the mount of some tufty-chinned boyar.

He spends the evening after the celebrations in the quiet kitchen of the inn in which they are staying.  The cooking is over for the evening, but he uses the stove's heat to keep boiled water as he uses the wash tub in which he works to firmly but delicately scrub the bloodstains from Katarina's winter clothes.  The hot water isn't for the wash - it's for his hands, as he warms them up after bouts of scrubbing in the ice water.  He had learned some time ago that hot water set bloodstains; cold water, and a paste of salt, was the best place to start with bloodstains; but he needed hot water nearby to get the feeling back into his hands every few minutes.  As her defacto manservant, it is his task whether or not he caused it; but it feels right also.

Beside him, open on a stool, is a small wooden box with a small collection of needles, and colored threads.  The lid is decorated in a simple carving of kossar, dancing gaily amidst the domed towers of Praag.  Evdokiya had given it to him before he set out into the world - a woman who had been like a mother to him, and who had put up with his miserable father for a very long time.  The woman who gave birth to him died not long after; Evdokiya married his widower father Nikinka and took on Vladimir and his older brothers, Sevyasha and Pilenka.  And for a decade and a half, she had given her all before finally becoming exhausted of Nikinka's drinking and womanizing.  Vladimir's departure had been the last straw - with him striking out into the world, and the other boys grown and taken care of, she had nothing more holding her to the troubled home.  She had pressed the boxed kit into his hands, the kit she had used to repair innumerable coats and hats and shoes and pairs of pants over the years; insisting that a small hole in a coat, left unmended, became a large hole; and a large hole became pneumonia.  He had become quite adept at small repairs over his travels - Alexei had given him plenty of chances.

Once the rose-scented soapy water and some careful scrubbing had seen the Icemaiden's garments cleaned, he let them dry infront of the stove's warmth and then stitched up the puntures with neat little zigzags, matching the thread color to the fabric as possible.

It must be this that fed into the terrible dream that night - an awful scenario in which he and Katarina are being tracked across the snows by something like a  man  that had been stitched together - stitched like a patchwork cloak, into a patchwork man.  In the dream, he was jealous or angry, or furious, but had taken some offense to the pair and put them to flight, and Vladimir couldn't find the little tool he used to unpick stitches which seemed at the time very necessary.  As he woke, he considered the sword he had just received would do the job more efficiently.
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 


It hadn't been long before Katarina returned to her room after the battle had taken place, her bdoy exhausted, beaten up, cut, stabbed, blasted and stitched up where it needed to be. How many times had she been rendered unconscious? It was fortunate that the local physician knew what he was doing instead of peddling the quackery of most, and had done a good job in tending to her wounds. She'd get a couple of scars from it, unfortunately. Men dealt better with bodily changes like that, she thought, as she laid down to rest in her bed and almost immediately went to sleep.

The snow-swept battlefields...the clash of steel on shield...the shouts of men and beasts...the waling of the dying...above it all, the lone, sapphire-eye of Father Bear saw all...

The next morning, Katarina felt her body aching across every limb and extension. She veritably groaned as she drew herself up, her head sore and her skeleton feeling like it was trying to escape her presence. It took a while before she felt well enough to dress herself completely and hobble about with her staff as her sole prop in keeping her from toppling into the snow, but she had to. She was a  symbol , after all. The Ice Witches were known throughout the land as both savior and dread authority, and Katarina had to display that to the people of this town after she had physically endured so much and assisted so extensively.

Dressed in another set of good clothes, this one without the blood-stains or stitchings that Vladimir had been imparting to her regalia from the night prior, Katarina hobbled down into the inn and greeted the folk, doubtless returning their gratitude with simple, appreciative nods and waves.

  "All fought bravely, all deserve praise!"   would be the general theme of her responses.

She would move about the town, putting on a show of presence and an example that the people could rest easy knowing that not even the near-grip of death could dissuade the Ice Witches of Kislev. When she viewed the gate area, now in the light of the day rather than the blanket of night, she beheld the grim devastation...of the brayherd. A dark satisfaction entered Katarina's heart as she saw all the mangled, beastly bodies of the children of chaos; separated in their pack, cut off from escape, cut down in their attempts to flee.

Take anything of value, then pile them up and burn them.
bramblefoot
nothing worthwhile is found in the pile of dead beastmen, so to the pyre they go. the smell is horrendous, as the unwashed beastmen carcasses go up in flames.

after the great beastman burnoff, you leave the walled town of azmarin, and travel for the better part of two days. on the dawn of the third day, a massive blizzard will rush in from the north, and you spot a massive castle tower where no castle tower should be

 

will each of you gimme a complication that will impede further travel, and a toughness test or take a level of fatigue
MrAbdiel
They make quite a little convoy as they travel; the Ice Maiden on her fine hardy steed, and Vladimir walking along side with the reins of the oblast elk Elena in hand. The deer was laden down with tents and effects, and a basket on top into which Vladimir tossed the sticks that the three dogs brought to him as they excitably hared off to find when he whistled.  They would make the base of the fire to come, in the evening.  And of course, on the other side of Vladimir, the burly brown bear bumbled along.  Every now and then it would make a fussing, lonely grunt as if it feared it had lost Vladimir's affection; in turn he would give it a command - usually a spirited  "HEY-ah!"  at which the bear would tuck down his head and tumble forward into a rolling somersault.  Then Alexei would stand up, his forepaws spread wide in appeal to crowd that wasn't there, and Vladimir would cheer for him and offer his muted, mittened applause.   "Ah, what a star - what a star!  The most graceful and agile boy!" 

When the blizzard kicked up, they pushed through for a while before slowing to confront the need to halt.  In the distance, the ominous tower loomed - but they would be buried and frozen before they reached it.  Here, in Northern Kislev, he knows to travel near to the blue-stone rock formations when the snow is coming down hard because they often have caves - either natural or else those carved by travellers in better times.  One such cave mouth yawns beside them now - its promise of shelter alluring, if not without risk.

 "If we pitch the tents, they will just as likely collapse under the snow or be buried - but if we shelter in the cave, we may have to contend with what dwells there - and perhaps become snowed in.  But I would take the cave over freezing death  - unless you can, uh..."   He makes a loose magical gesture with one hand; unsure if Ice Maidens can banish storms, as well as call them.
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 

The cold didn't bother Katarina, no matter how frigid and below zero it got. The Oblast magic of the leyways within Kislev protected her, wreathing her in their magic and and acclimatisig her to the worst the land had to offer.

But, Vladimir and his pets were not so lucky.

When they departed, Katarina made sure to stock supplies, particularly extra food. She knew how harsh the icy weather could be on a creatures metabolism, even ones clad in fur like the bear and the dogs, let alone Vladimir. Hearty, good food at the end of a long days march through the snow could be a wonderful balm against the frosty temperatures, something Katarina knew all too well.

But, she had to admit that the bear and dogs were lovely companions.

Periodically when they would stop to have lunch and catch a breather, Katarina would feed the doors and give them the affection they deserved. Patting heads, clasping their jaws in her hands and kissing their foreheads and scratching their bellies - Alexei receiving the same treatment.

 "Yes...who's a beautiful bear!"  Katarina would coo as she'd scratch the animals huge, adorable head, rubbing behind the ears, her fingers rustling through that thick, dark brown fur.

When the time came to make a decision to protect them against the storm, Katarina nodded and gestured towards the opening with her staff.

She could endure the ice-storm just fine, her hair whipping about in the grip of the howling wind, but the others were not so fortunate, and she had to consider them.
bramblefoot
 

as you enter the cave, you see the floor of the cave is clear ice, pure as the driven snow. strange concentric patterns are carved into the ice, almost like a warding seal against something which should not be disturbed. alexei whines, and sort of shakes his head. youd spot an ancient ice witch, who will walk out from behind a pillar in a shower of ice crystals. the witch has a slight hunch, but walks firmly with the assistance of a black staff.  "welcome travellers"  she cackles, rubbing her hands together.  "will you gaze into the bitter glass?"  she points to a small section of ice, where a hole has been cut by an ice drill.  "the rewards are great, but so are the terrors" 
 

ooc: if you wish to gaze into the bitter glass, roll me wp at +30, going down by -10 each round. you can gaze as long as you want, but beware the below punishments

the punishment for a failed roll is 1 IP for the first, and 1 IP for each successive failed roll

if you do gaze however, there will be rewards in your future!
MrAbdiel
Vladimir is wary of the crone - but he is put at east both by her welcome (cackle not withstanding) and the promise of rewards.   "Bitter glass...? I don't..." 

But almost before his rational mind can consult his curiousity, he is looking - through the gap in the ice, to the strange things beyond.

 
 Spoiler: OOC: 
Heck, I've got insanity points to spare.  Time to muss up this squeaky clean brain.

1.   vs76  - (1d100)[ 87 ]  (Rerolled to 50) -  Success 
2.   vs66  - (1d100)[ 21 ]  -  Success 
3.   vs56  - (1d100)[ 36 ]  -  Success 
4.   vs46  - (1d100)[ 49 ]  (Rerolled to 57) - Fail.
5.   vs36  - (1d100)[ 78 ]  - Fail.
6.   vs36  - (1d100)[ 45 ]  - Fail. (actually versus 26, but still)

Vladimir will pull away when he hits 3IP, or when he gets to six attempts.
 He'll reroll the first two failures:  (1d100)[ 50 ]  and  (1d100)[ 57 ] .


EDIT: Three success, and 3 IP.  Should have quit while I was ahead!
 
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 

Katarina was sceptical the moment the crone emerged. After all, who could blame her? A mysterious blizzard that funnelled travellers into this conveniently placed shelter, only for a weathered old woman to emerge and tempt them to peer into a magical pool to receive 'rewards'.

Yeah, uh huh.

When Vladimir took a step forward, he would do so into Katarina's staff, which she drew diagonally across the front of his body to gently halt his advance.

  "Trust, but verify,"   she uttered to him quietly, as one looking out for him.

Stepping forward herself, the Ice Witch had suspicions of the crone immediately.

 "If such rewards are to be found within, why not peer into the pool yourself, I wonder?"  she asked.
bramblefoot
 

katarina: the crone laughs  "i have a feeling if i did, your companion would sic that bear on me"  she sighs and rolls her shoulders, gunshot pops emanating from them  "i mean you no harm, and you mean me none right?"  she will peer at katarina, stalking forward with her black staff until shes just out of melee range

vladimir: as you peer into the ice, you experience a strange lurch, and you feel like you're falling through space, though your body stays where it is. two things pop into your view. the first is a collar, roughly bear-sized, made out of black iron with crude glyphs on it. the second is a plate bracer, sized for your left arm with a curved blade sticking out past the hand. a voice in your head says  "choose one" 

collar for alexei
 

plate bracer
 
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 

Katarina still found this old woman...suspicious. Nevertheless, Katarina had a sixth sense for people, an instinct one might call it, and she could not detect any menace or ill-intentions emanating from the crone. Was she a spiritual guardian of some hidden, treasured secret?

Skeptically, Katarina will go first. She wouldn't use Vladimir like a test dummy. If she was wrong about this crone and her intentions, then he should not pay the price, instead it would be her...
bramblefoot
katarina: you feel much the same vladimir does, only you have more control over it. you feel yourself plunge into ice water, and feel the cold seep into your bones. three objects stand out to you. the first is a leather face covering with a long beak, like a plague doctor's mask. the second is a wind-up music box, made of gold, and old beyond belief, it plays a haunting melody as the waters rush over your head. the third is a iron dagger with a bone handle. this weapon oozes power, and it calls to you.

which one do you choose?

leather face covering
 

wind-up music box
 

bone handled dagger
 
MrAbdiel
Vladimir, once Katarina has proven the method, holds on to his sanity and reaches for the bracer.  All he has to go on is his gut, and his gut says the collar is wicked looking.  He would not subject Alexei to it - and thus, he reaches for the strange element of armor...
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 

Katarina was beginning to think that the Crone was correct. Visions and montages washed over the Ice Witches mind as she plunged her consciousness into that mirror.

Of all the items that flew past her mind, Katarina reached out and wrapped her fingers around the handle of the knife. It beckoned her, called out to her, its bladed length containing some essence that spoke to her attraction and drew her touch upon it.
bramblefoot
katarina and vladimir: you both wake up on the floor of the cave, with your chosen items in your hand. the ice witch is nowhere to be seen, and you both have throbbing headaches. gimme a montage of your time until the blizzard passes, and what you do with your new pieces of equipment

 
 Spoiler: katarinas custom talent 
strength through pain: deal one wound to yourself for a +2 to a casting roll
 


finally, the blizzard clears and you're free to continue on your way. the castle sits in the distance, practically begging to be explored.

why dont you both gimme a d100 roll. as always, lower is better
MrAbdiel
Vladimir cradles his head in his hands, laying back on the ice until the throbbing goes away.  With the animals safe in the cave and the blizzard blowing by outside, there is little alternative than to rest off that headache and then look over the bladed bracer.  He tries it for size; considers its function.  It can't go on his shield arm; and it doesn't seem to interfere with the sword; but he can hardly walk around with a giant wrist spike, so he'd have to equip it purposefully before time.

 "Have you seen anything like this?" , he asks the Ice Maiden; puzzling at the construction of it.

Beyond toying with the wrist blade, he sits in cluster of snoozing animals for warmth; plays his mouth harp to hear its perculiar echoes in the cave; and served up a plate of the travel rations for the Ice Maiden - mostly preserved spiced sausage, cheese, and a small portion of sweet borodinsky bread kept in a waxed linen wrap.

 
 Spoiler: OOC: 
What does the bracer do, Bramble?  I don't know if there's anything magical about it, but at a guess for its mechanical effects - perhaps it's a single  plate bracer  which, in a turn in which the wearer charges, is considered a hand weapon with the  Impact  and  Fast  rules?
 
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 

Katarina sighed as she awoke from the magic-induced slumber, her head aching as if she had downed a bottle of alcohol the night before. Sitting upright, checking to make sure that all of her, and Vladimir's, possessions were still with them, she passed small talk with her traveling companion as they regained their senses and bearings.

 "Let me see..."  she responded to the bear tamers inquiry, her eyes narrowing over the bracer and pursing her lips before shaking her head.

 "Magic is within it; I know that much,"  she confirmed,  "but it's purpose? Who could say. These things have a way of...revealing themselves to their possessor at opportune times, like an instinct." 

Likewise, the Ice Maiden observed the knife she had acquired, her vision peering down those runes and its straight, single-bladed craftsmanship. It was beautiful in its own primitive way, a melding of surprisingly comfortable bone handle and finely crafted steel blade. She could sense that the object hungered though, like a bargainer keen to make an exchange.

When Vladimir had a little fire going, the Ice Witch would gesture for him to prepare his own food as well, and some items for the animals. She'd tend to her own horse, cooing and clicking her tongue at it in affection as she'd rub its large nose and kiss its plate-like, circular jaw.

 "Prepare something hearty, Vladimir,"  Katarina spoke matter-of-factly,  "the further north we go, the more harsh the weather,"  she gestured to the outside blizzard still in its fury.

But, Vladimir being a fellow northerner, it's not like she needed to remind him.
bramblefoot
katarina and vladimir: the blizzard dies, and as you walk out of the cave mouth, youd spot a sprig of holly in front of each of you. this is a lucky charm

 
 Spoiler: ooc 
what is your plan? are you gonna explore the castle, or do something else?
 


meanwhile, somewhere else: the teenage boy staggered through the snow, sniffing the air ferally. that damn ice witch was close, he knew it, but his job was to watch and follow, not to attack. she would lead him to the treasure, and his master would reward him handsomely

 
MrAbdiel
The travellers and beasts eat heartily, and the merciful winds do not bury them in snow again on their way to the sprawling castle. Its existence is puzzling - it did not belong to Kislev, and the ancient Ungols did not build such things. To whom did it belong, and how did it get here?

Vladimir and Katarina have travelled, but the point of decision is now; any closer and they are likely to be easily seen by those watching from the castle... if there are any such watchers at all.

The big man shifts uneasily.  "I...Suppose it's worthy of study,"  he concedes; his hands almost unconciously seeking and patting his weapons where they hang against his body.  But he looks to the Ice Maiden, forlornly hoping she might remember, at this late point, that she knows about the structure and it is, in fact, boring and worth avoiding. Otherwise, they'll just have to check it out.
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 

Unlike her comapnion, Katarina did not feel the cold. Her magic had inundated her to its frosty scythe, ensuing that she was number to even the most frigid and unbearable of Kislev's temperatures. The Ice Witch was drawn, however, to the holly whose red fruit contrasted with the glittering sparkles of white that surrounded it. Plucking the curious object up, the witch inspected it, perusing its dimensions and even inhaling its soft scent.

She smiled.

Turning to look up at Vladimir,  "to find such a piece of beauty in a place like this?"  she stated rather than spoke, holding the charm out for him to take, as she retrieved the second one for herself.

Hearing his words and looking back upon the cave, the Ice Witch nodded.

 "I must record our activity later, when the weather is more suitable!"  she agreed, exhaling a vapor of white breath into the frost-bitten wind.

Gesturing towards their path northward, the Ice Witch motioned for her companion to come, as she drew her own hand to the reins of her horse and took to the saddle upon him.

 "Feeling capable of exploring the castle?" 
bramblefoot
as you approach the castle, youd spot faded banners that flap in the stiff breeze coming down from troll country. there is no sign of occupancy. getting further inside, youd spot a mangled corpse with a pair of gore-crows picking at it. they startle into the air with eerie caws. just as you step inside, the gate crashes down behind you with a massive  thump  sound, sealing you inside with your animals. alexei sniffs the air, and his hackles go up.

walking further inside, youd spot more mangled corpses, and the smell of wet dog.

what do you do?

i need a flat fear test from the both of you for 1 IP
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 


Katarina's instincts bid her a quiet and slow approach, her wisdom warning her that whoever occupied a castle such as this may not take kindly to unwelcome visitors.

However, those occupants may...

She pursed her lips when she saw the first corpses as fodder for the crows. That they were not yet frozen over suggested they were relatively fresh, possibly the last few days - before the gate came down.

Spinning around on her heel and putting her hand against the gate, the Ice Witch exhaled as she looked over at Vladimir and then towards the deeper bowels of the castle itself.

Exhaling a cold breath, the Ice Maiden gestured and moved close to Vladimir and the menagerie they had with them. They would brave the castle together.
MrAbdiel
 "...Not... abandoned, then."  Vladimir produces his weapons warily, flexes his wrist with the odd spike on it and prepares to blood it, if necessary. He coos soothingly at the dogs and the elk, and then picks up on the smell.   "...Some kind of beast, bound to the place.  But the gates - magic, perhaps?" 

He can only speculate. He gives Alexei a companionly nudge, before the band of beasts and humans head deeper into the castle.
bramblefoot
 

as you move deeper into the courtyard, the temperature drops further, and vladimir starts to shiver uncontrollably. finally, youd spot a large sleeping behemoth on one corner of the courtyard. its breathing is like a literal bellows, and frost forms on its fur as it sleeps. a large ruff of icicle spikes on its back twitch and turn as it lets out a half yawn, and a large blue eye blinks open for a second, before closing again

did the creature spot you, and is playing asleep? did it not, and your in the clear?
MrAbdiel
Vladimir has never seen such a creature, and he freezes in place as the eye opens, and closes again. But a beast of that size has no need to play possum, if it wants to kill and eat them. Whether it saw them or not, it doesn't seem to have interest, and he takes that as a blessing; flagging Katarina forward with one hand while whistling softly to keep the dogs following, towing the elk and trusting Alexei to trundle uncomplainingly after.

No need to pick a fight against something like that!
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 


Katarina's eyes widen at the size of the beast, her mind scrambling over her memory to try and recall just  what  the thing was, what it was capable of performing (however grisly) and whether it as particularly territorial or carnivorous.

Having frozen on the spot at the sight of the thing, Katarina steeled herself and tried to place herself between the sleeping monster and their little animal entourage, taking some of Vladimir's hints. Looking over at her companion and seeing his gestures, the Ice Witch slowly nodded agreeably in return, taking her time to move as cautiously as she was able, lest they rouse the slumbering beast...
bramblefoot
alrighty. pushing deeper into the courtyard, and past the slumbering beast, youd find a large cold foyer with rotted away wooden doors. tattered banners flap gently in the drafts from the entrance, and a large chessboard with man sized pieces sits in the standard position for starting a game. you are on the side of white, and the side of black sits beyond in darkness

a stentorian voice booms  "the game has begun. please pick your piece"  looking around, youd spot some empty slots on the board. there is a white rook slot, and a white knight spot

what piece do you pick?

 
 Spoiler: ooc 
alright, time for a little strategy game. gimme some rolls and such, and we'll see how well you come out
 
MrAbdiel
Vladimir grimaces. Immediately, this looks like the kind of 'game' that will have repercussions for failing to participate. Truth be told, he wasn't an avid player. He'd played  Alvatafl  a few times with an imperial hunting party travelling into the oblasts, once. The version the toffs played up here in Kislev was  Zasada , which began with 15 winged lancers in the middle of the board protecting an ice witch, surrounded by 60 troll pieces to oppose them. But this was something else; something much more like the elf version of the game, with even sides facing each other across the board.

As he steps into the bishop slot, he gives Katarina a shrug, and a stoic smile.

 "Better than fighting sixty trolls."
 
 EDIT: Changed to Bishop slot, defering to Katarina. 
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 


Katarina's brow furrowed as she peered across at the scene before them, before she did a double-take back at the direction from which they had come, just in case she missed the closing of some mystical portal that had sealed them in this region.

 "We're in unknown territory here, Vladimir..."  the Ice Witch would gently murmur to her human companion, her eyes still locked on that giant cavern-sized board between them.

 "Be cautious and harbor no greed,"  was her warning, before moving along side him to select a piece each.

Were the beastmaster to defer to her judgement, she would take the Rook.
bramblefoot
alright, so the opening does not go well for white, and black is chipping away at your defense steadily, without losing anything important but a few pawns.

each of you gimme a bad situation you're in, and then a CK strategy and tactics roll if you got it. if not, toss me a skill you think would help
MrAbdiel
Vladimir is but a humble tamer of bears; no tactician, he. He has played a few games of various kinds of chess, but has never been a master or anything approaching it. As the pieces start shuttling around on the board, eliminating each other, White begins to lose. It all happens so fast, but even he can detect why: two of the pieces are not under the control of whatever spirit, or wizard, is controlling the rest. There is a beat before white moves where it seems to be waiting to see if they do move; but as they gather their wits for the challenge, the White side is beginning with a functionally frozen bishop and rook on the queen's side.

He dreads to imagine what might happen if he is 'taken'. Is he supposed to step off the board, or 'fight' the piece?  Will they kill him? But there  must  be a mind behind such a strange encounter; and while the pieces have immutable rules, a mind can be confused, or tricked, or fooled.

When the next white turn comes, he rushes up along the diagonal out into the field where he has a straight line to threaten the enemy knight in the back line.

 "Braaaaaghghahahaha!" 

He gives his most disconcerting wildman roar, and waves about his sword and spiked bracer. He ought not commit to attacking the knight, of course; doing so would mean he would be eliminated by the rook right away, and on the back foot, they could hardly afford to be trading (whether or not that meant he was killed). But the mind behind the game didn't know that; and perhaps, if he could created a sense of menace around himself, the black 'king' would waste his effort keeping his knight out of line of the wild 'bishop'.

 
 Spoiler: OOC: 
We're just little babies in our early careers, we have no specialized skills like strategy knowledge! But I'll try my luck with Intimidate.

  vs50  - (1d100)[ 76 ] , or FP to   vs50  - (1d100)[ 64 ]  as required, at whatever difficulty you think is fair.

Oof. Stinkers of rolls, unless the spirit controlling black is like a +20% fraidycat.
 
BananaPhone
   Zhukov 


The Ice Witch inhaled as the pieces slammed against each other, while her companion, Vladimir, withdrew a blade and threw himself upon an enemy that she could not yet see.

 "Vladimir - patience!"  she called out after him, her hand up as if to hold his shoulder, but it was too late. Her tone was more of concern than command, as she worried that the man might have become bedevilled by something within these caves.

Turning her gaze about the giant chessboard and ice-clung architecture, Katarina's eyes drew in upon them an azure hue as she peered through the Witchsight at whta might be going on...
bramblefoot
katarina: with the help of your magic, you play a pretty tight game, but so does the enemy force controlling the pieces. you taste black tar as you scent the air and the darkness across the board abates for a split second. tell me who or what you see across the board, before the darkness pulls itself back across

vladimir: there is an opportunity for black to lose a rook, but it may put you in danger. tell me if you take it, and if so what it costs you (make it hurt, but not too much)
MrAbdiel
As the rook races across the board, Vladimir sees his opportunity. He is being forced to play as a piece; but even though he took the bishop's spot, he is no bishop. He steps into the piece's path with a shield bash to knock it off the board - but as he does so, lets out an involuntary yell. The rook hits like a wall, and the contest of mass is closer than it ought to be. It topples off the board, but it jars his arm badly and snaps the straps of his shield. It won't be useful to him until he has time to sit and repair it; and his arm is wracked with pain.

Still.. one less piece.

 
 Spoiler: OOC: 
I'm offering the malfunction of Vlad's shield (not broken but out of action until he can fix it with an evening's work), and his arm incapacitated from use until after the next combat encounter.
 