A Storm of Ice - Chapter 1

This is the first session of the Pathfinder RPG game that I'm running. I'm going to post the storyline here so that my players can look back and follow along.

The wine is flowing, the food is decadent, and all around you are the prominent socialites of the Eastern Frostwaynes. This party is turning out to be one-of-a-kind, with hundreds of guests from all walks of life and social groups in the city of Magelake, all of whom were invited personally by the well-known and well-liked bard Hallistra Silvertongue. You’ve spotted Hallistra a few times this evening, dancing with any number of male suitors and looking resplendent in her cream-colored gown with pink and purple jewels sewn into the fabric at seemingly random intervals. As she dances, she sometimes sings, and the magic of her voice can be felt by everyone in the room.

The music fades as Hallistra takes the small stage, the band behind her being offered refreshments, resting as they await their patron’s speech. “Good sirs and ladies,” Hallistra begins, “I thank you all for joining me tonight to celebrate my paltry accomplisments in the world of theatre.” Hallistra had been honored the night before with the Performer of the Year award, presented by the local performer’s guild. “You are all welcome in my home at any time, and it is wonderful to see you all in such splendid attire, dancing and eating with me! If you will all indulge me for a moment, I would like to perform a song for you, to thank you for being my friends.”

The band begins to play a slow, sweet melody, and Hallistra starts singing, her voice sweet as the mulled icewine you’ve been enjoying all evening. You find yourself swaying to the music along with the entire crowd, lost in the depth of her song. The song is a sad one, telling the tale of a lonely soldier, the sole surviver of a huge battle, trying to find his way home. As the ballad ends, you feel such a profound sense of loss that you are brought to tears, and you can hear many a noble lady in the room weeping openly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is no time for crying and wailing!” Hallistra says, a mischevious smile on her face. “This is a party! Wipe those tears away and join me in a dance!” A fast-paced song begins playing and Hallistra jumps down from the small stage, grabbing a strapping young lad who had been weeping moments ago, and pulling him into a quick-stepping dance. The sorrow of the song forgotten, the crowd begins dancing along.

Later, as the party is beginning to wind down (though Hallistra shows no signs of slowing), you are approached by a butler who tells you that Ms. Silvertongue has requested your presence in her solar. You see other butlers asking the same of several guests, none of which you know personally, though you think you might recognize one of them as another well-known performer in Hallistra’s troupe. You are led from the great hall where the party was taking place through several corridors to a smaller, but still grand room with a large rectangular table carved of cherry. You and the other guests are beckoned to sit, and are told by one of the butlers that Ms. Silvertongue will arrive momentarily.

Looking around the table, you see that there are six others who were summoned along with you.

At the far end of the table sits Fjorn Whitefeather, a human druid from the order of Clan Stormeagle. He looks dissheveled and wears mostly animal pelts, but under the pelts you can see a breastplate of darkwood, an ancient, extremely strong wood. He also carries a heavy wooden shield. Behind him stands a creature made of ice, with a head carved into the shape of an eagle. Cold emanates from its body, but it stands eerily still, awaiting its master's instructions.

To Fjorn's left sits a cloaked, shadowy figure. He does not provide a name, and in fact says nothing while others around the table are introducing themselves. At his sides hang dual kamas with intricate carvings on the handles, obviously well-made. Though his face is well-hidden, you can see that the flesh around his eyes has a reddish tint, and the eyes themselves are black as night.

Next to the cloaked man sits a surprisingly handsome, lean half-orc wearing chain under a flamboyantly-colored tunic and breeches. He introduces himself as Jorthan. At his side hangs a handcrafted whip. Though he currently looks jovial and curious, you can see that his bulk and visage could intimidate the best of his foes.

Across the table from Jorthan sits another half-orc, however his looks are almost the antithesis of the other. Introducing himself as Qua'mang, he is huge, hulking, and speaks little, though when he does, he expects those around him to listen. Strapped to his back is a large battleaxe with intimidating carvings in the haft and head. A breastplate and breeches are all the attire he requires. Standing behind him and kneading his shoulders absently is his companion Trinna, a willowy woman with stark white hair, entrancing blue eyes, and slightly blue-tinged skin. She wears simple and subtly revealing leather armor, and a dagger hangs at her side. Her distant look gives the feeling that while here in body, her spirit is roaming far from here.

To Qua'mang's left sits a middle-aged elven woman who introduces herself as Marileth. She wears only robes and jewelery, but has a few rods hanging from her belt. Her hair is black with many streaks of gray throughout, but her green eyes are those of a much younger woman. Perched on her shoulder is a tiny fey woman wearing a revealing leather outfit over her buxom frame. Her small wings resemble those of a butterfly, and she carries only a tiny lute and several small wands strapped to her belt.

Next to Marileth sits a stout dwarven man who introduces himself as McJuggerson the Unsmackable. Though his haughty nature makes him seem brash, he can obviously back up his title of Unsmackable given the heavy full plate and shield that he carries. Across the left side of his face is a birthmark in the vague shape of a broken chain. The heavy morningstar strapped to his back suggests that he is quite capable of defending himself and others.

The final guest is the young man that you recognized as a bard in Hallistra’s troupe. He strikes up a conversation immediately with the rest of the group, introducing himself as Symon Xarn. “Do any of you know what this is pertaining to? I wonder if my sweet Hallistra requires something of us? I would suggest that we were all simply dashing enough to have... how shall I put this... a PRIVATE party with the beautiful Ms. Silvertongue, but looking around the room I... seriously doubt that now.” It is clear that Symon is as full of himself as he is handsome. Just then, the door at the far end of the room opens and Hallistra sweeps in. Her face, so bright and welcoming during the main party, now only shows fear and apprehension.

“My friends. I do not wish to spoil your night of revelry, but I had an ulterior motive for inviting you all here tonight.” She sits down at the head of the table. “Some of you I know very well, and others I’ve only met recently. Each one of you is a hero of unimaginable ability and incredible skills. I have need of each of your particular talents. My young sister, Faith, has been kidnapped. A heinous white dragon who lives in the nearby hills has stolen her.”

“Lovely Hallistra, what could a white dragon want of a young girl?” asks Symon. “Whites, from what I know of them, are solitary and stupid, caring only for food and solitude.”

“Quite right, Symon,” Hallistra begins, “but this particular white is more cunning that most, and he has good reson to want my sister, or me for that matter.” Hallistra’s expression changes, showing that mischevious grin you saw earlier after her song. “Would all of you like to know a secret about me?”

Without pausing to hear answers to her rhetorical question, Hallistra stands up, takes a few steps back from her chair, and promptly transforms into a dragon! Bronze-colored scales cover the lean body of a Large dragon, and Hallistra’s sweet voice issues from the dragon’s mouth as she continues. “You see, my friends, I am not of the human species. My sister and I are of the few bronze dragons left in this part of the world.” Hallistra reappears as her former self.

“Now, back to the task at hand. This white is young, conniving, and manipulative. He has stolen my sister for two reasons, lust and greed. He finds her beautiful, all the more so because she is vulnerable. She is very young for one of our kind, and the cold of his lair will weaken her. I cannot hope to fight the bastard in his lair because the cold will weaken me also. I am asking you to rescue her, and if you slay the beast, all the better. I can offer you gold and jewels if you wish, or any other boon that I can give. Please, help me.”

You glance at the other guests, most of whom look as stunned as you are, but one or two who are just looking greedy.

Symon looks at Hallistra with fear and loathing in his eyes and says “I’m sorry, but I can’t be a part of this. You... you’re not even human. I’m leaving now!” He gets up to walk out, but Hallistra sings a quick riff and he becomes mesmerized, sitting back down. After a minute or two, he gets up and walks out.

“I apologize to the rest of you for having to see that, but I’d rather my secret stayed hidden for the time being, and that loudmouth would have told the whole party. He won’t remember any of this discussion now. So, will you all help me?”

Each remaining member of the group consents, naming their price as they go. Marileth humbly requests only a wand of Hallistra's favorite spell. The hooded man with no name simply states "You know my price."

Fjorn asks Hallistra only to donate to his druidic order, and McJuggerson and Qua'mang similarly state that monetary compensation will be sufficient.

When Hallistra turns to Jorthan, he says "My beautiful Hallistra, I only wish to become as famous and well-loved as yourself. Would you consent to composing a duet with me, and perform it at the theatre?" "Of course," Hallistra exclaims, beaming at Jorthan. "Nothing would make me happier than to further your career by singing with you, good sir."

Hallistra gives them a map with the approximate location of the white dragon’s lair on it. He lives high on a snowy mountain peak, about four days’ ride from the city.

She pulls aside Marileth. “The white will be vulnerable to fire. If you find yourselves in mortal danger, use this. It has only a single charge left in it, but still could be a powerful tool for you. Please return it to me after you’ve saved my sister.” She hands Marileth a staff with the head of a dragon on top of it.

“Please hurry, my friends. I fear that the white will tire of my sister quickly, and if he has no use for her he may kill her just for the thrill of it.”

The group departs on their quest, borrowing horses from Hallistra's stables for the trip. A few scuffles along the way occur, including a fight with a territorial Rune Giant, but after a few days travel they round a craggy corner, and a large opening in the rock comes into view a few hundred yards away. At the top of the cave’s opening hang hundreds of icicles, some much larger than others. The snow in front of the cave has been recently disturbed, though any prints have been covered in a fresh white blanket. As the party approaches the cave, they hear distant growls from within.

The ninja sneaks forward and notices a mechanical trap set behind the icicles, rigged to crush any intruders with sharp icy spikes. He then notices a switch mostly hidden under a snowdrift that he can tell will deactivate the trap. He flips the switch and the party continues unmolested.

Passing under the mouth of the cave, you see a weak blue light being reflected off of the ice-covered walls. The temperature dips and chills you to the bone.

The witch casts an Arcane Eye spell, allowing her to send an invisible scout into the cavern and determine the dangers within. About forty feet into the tunnel, another, smaller tunnel diverges to the left, but this leads only to a second exit from the cavern. The witch sends the spell deeper into the main tunnel, and comes upon a disturbing scene.

A large cavern comes into view, and toward the center of the cavern, you see a young brass dragon, shackled with hand and foot fetters made completely of ice, those chained to a huge piton in the floor. She looks defeated and in pain. The white dragon is mounting the poor bronze, breathing icy mist onto the back of her neck, growling in anger and digging his claws into her sides.

The ninja uses his ki to turn invisible and silently sneaks into the cavern, taking up a position to the right of the tunnel entrance. The bard envelops himself and the barbarian in a sphere of invisibility and they sneak in to take flanking positions on the other side of the tunnel. Finally, the dwarven cleric, who has been enlarged by the witch, lumbers to the tunnel entrance and yells at the dragon “The rape-party is cancelled!”

The barbarian rages and in his excitement completely forgets the tactics which had been discussed by the party before engaging the dragon. He charges in and buries his axe in the dragon’s flank. The dragon howls in rage and is about to launch into the sky, when the ceiling of the cavern suddenly begins to cave in on top of him! The druid’s spell has turned most of the roof into mud, causing a cave-in directly above the white dragon and his helpless captive. The white dodges to the side, only getting half-buried by the mud and rocks falling from above, but his poor captive takes the brunt of the force from the cave-in, and is knocked unconscious.

The black dragon shakes the mud off of himself and launches into the air, hissing angrily as he flies to the top of the cavern and circles.
Seeing the state of the poor brass dragon, the cleric charges forward and prays to his deity to heal those around him, channeling positive energy and healing the dying creature.

The bard uses a short-range teleportation spell to appear next to the captive dragon, while the barbarian breaks piton holding her chains into the ground using his axe. Seeing that the dragon was free of her shackles, Marileth swooped in and teleported herself, her companion and Faith away to safety.

The white dragon, enraged at the loss of his captive, begins swooping down and attacking mid-flight, dealing heavy damage to the barbarian and cleric. The cleric fires several beams of force energy at the dragon, weakening him. The bard casts an air walk spell on the barbarian, allowing him to fly up and attack the dragon in the air. Sensing that he is fighting a losing battle, the dragon starts to flee, but one more force blast from the cleric knocks him out of tha air. The party kills the white dragon and McJuggerson makes a show of removing his male parts in punishment for his crimes.