The Frigid Woe (DW) - Act 1

It began ten days ago. The first few people, traders at the Nohme dock, reported feeling a strange stiffness to their limbs. They thought, at first, that it was simply the cold sinking into their joints, but, day after day, it became progressively worse - a rigidity of joints and biting, bone-deep cold slowing their movements to the point of near motionlessness.

That’s when they knew something was wrong - but, by then, it had already begun to spread.

Several panicked inquiries to nearby towns revealed that these were all symptoms of a disease - a highly-contagious magic from the ancient and inhospitable islands of Eiselcross. It’s there, too, that the only cure has been developed, synthesized by Cobalt Station, the research center stationed the furthest into the core of Eiselcross’ main island. Unfortunately, all attempts to contact the station have failed.

Five days ago, a delivery team was sent out to the station to retrieve the medicine in person. Soon after, all contact with them was lost.

Two days ago, the port was shut down, travel in and out of Nohme to the other parts of the Greying Wildlands restricted until a cure could be found.

Today, a few of those first-infected crystallized, their bodies turned to perfect, icy statues.

Now, as The Symphony of Ice and Fire sails along the northern pier of Nohme, those onboard can see the affects this malady has had on the once-prosperous town. The streets are barren, clogged with un-shoveled snow. Those few residents that moved between buildings trudging slowly, as if trying to walk beneath water - or, in the more extreme cases, thick molasses.

Most distressingly are the ice statues - just a few of them now, but likely to grow in number in the coming days - their expressions frozen permanently in abject misery.

Along the docks, an elderly dwarven man with a light grey beard and spectacles waits along with a small retinue of Glassblades. For those who have visited Nohme before, he is clearly recognizable as the town's Burgomaster, Sten Onmunson. He raises his voice to be heard upon the anchored ship.

"It astounds and humbles me that you should agree to take this burden upon you, sirs." The old dwarf says, and it's clear that even his limbs move with a stilted stiffness that goes beyond his age. "I fear you are this town's last chance - and perhaps the last for this entire region. At the rate this is spreading, and with our supplies quickly dwindling, I don’t expect our town can survive more than a month, and we won’t have the supplies, or the manpower, to send another team should you fail. Your journey today represents our final hope. Can we count on you?"

He looks up at the magnificent ship, trying to catch the eyes of Mance Pyro, Teorethefethyrio, and Bonepipe - the adventurers who had taken it upon themselves to answer Nohme's desperate call.

"Ah, the Dwendalians at Balenpost aren't on the best of terms with their countrymen at the Station, and I'm afraid the symbol of the Diarchy won't do much good there." Sten replies. "But, you may plan your route however you please. You'll need to show that symbol to The Buyer at Syrinlya if you want any additional supplies, and that symbol will also work as a suitable unit of trade for the cure at Cobalt Station. Please take care not to lose it before then!"

---

With that, the Symphony of Ice and Fire heads out to sea. In mere hours the mainland of Wildemount disappears in the distance, and the dark sea surrounds the ship on every side. The temperature of the air plummets, the weather going from a snow-speckled chill, to a bone-deep iciness. It's becoming clear that the region you are encroaching upon is not particularly hospitable to life.

Just as the group prepares for a cold, if uneventful, trip, an incredible force erupts from the sea on the Symphony's port-side, causing the ship to rock dangerously to the side when jolted by the resulting wave.

"What's wrong with the bunks?" Helga teases back with a chuckle, her shorter stature obviously making them much more comfortable for her. Their location below deck also reminded her of her underground homeland. She loved the open sea, but still feels a nostalgia for tight quarters in dark underground caverns.

Watching the two exiles, Helga considers the vast difference in the personality and culture of Bonepipe and Teo. After a few minutes she adds, "Wanna take bets on how long they can take of each other? I'll put down 2 rum rations that Bonepipe goes crazy watching Teo meditate like that before we reach Syrinlya!"

Far cheerier faces greet the Symphony of Ice and Fire as it sails in than had come out at Nohme. With the fire organ in full swing, Bonepipe takes main stage as the Flaming Bagpipe Concerto draws a huge crowd.

Mance has seen Syrinlya grow considerably over the years - from a temporary-turned-permanent camp for the scholar and explorer Professor Gulrim Shalebrow, to a miniature outpost consisting of only the hardiest of artic expeditioners. Then, with the discovery of some ancient magical artifacts - giving rise to the theory that Eiselcross was once the home to an ancient magical civilization - the sudden boom in population, with adventurers, merchants and crafters all coming to make their living on this newest - if extremely hazardous - frontier.

Mance tries to pick out some faces among the crowd, and notices a few - but notably missing is Prof. Shalebrow himself, and The Buyer - both founders of the settlement that was now the size of a small village. Having been founded by a dwarf and elf, respectively, most of the population takes on that demographic, with only a few humans or other races scattered among them.

Interestingly, it seemed that a lot of the explorer-types Mance was used to seeing in town weren't here - with only a few of the dozens of people cheering from the shoreline anything but common shopkeeps and craftsmen.

As the Flaming Bagpipe Concerto comes to a close, one of the cheering voices raises above the others in a joyous whoooop! "Now that's what I call an entrance! Fashionably late, and full of style!"

A young female dwarf with a long, shaggy mane of brown hair stands atop one of the rail posts on the pier and gives a theatrical bow. Mance recalls her having been a fresh-faced explorer not too long ago, and one of Prof. Shalebrow's aides - Morgo Delwer. "Welcome to our tropical island paradise. I'll be your guide, once you've settled your encore!"

As Falteo flies a loop around the settlement, he takes in a few interesting local tidbits. Fortunately, though some of the folks spoke of how the Woe was ravaging the mainland - some rumors true, some wildly exaggerated - it didn't seem like anyone in this town had contracted it or showed any symptoms.

More than the Woe - the thing that seems to be on most people's minds (or at least in their discussions) is the Dwendalian Empire. Teo would know that the Dwendalian Empire is an all-human nation to the west of the Greying Wildlands, and is known for being totalitarian, but not outright hostile to this region.

However, recently, Dwendalian ships have been spotted off the coast, putting the town on edge due to the fact that most of their defenders - the expedition team - left to pursue a lead on a new archeological find. Rumors and conspiracy theories travel quickly around the small settlement, and there's a growing worry that the Dwendalians leaked information about the ruins to get the expedition team to leave Syrinlya defenseless. Some even note that the Cobalt Station is run by Dwendalians - and wonder if this whole Woe nonsense is some sort of plot.

When pressed by any of the more rational settlers, however, no one can come up with a solid reason why the Empire would want to attack or invade Syrinlya in particular.Then, Teo heads to the bar to regroup with the others.

---

The elf had looked over when Bonepipe spoke loudly about eating a dozen blokes like them before breakfast - but by the time Morgo sets down their drinks and the barbarian chugs one down, the two are back to their private discussion.

However, as Mance breaks away to go talk to the tavern owner, Bonepipe and Byron give the two strangers a good long look. Bonepipe is less subtle in his staring, and that seems to agitate the elven ranger once again.

The dwarf, for the second time, tries to pull his companion back into their quiet conversation, but she shrugs him off. "Shove off, Urgon, I'm going to see what this is about."

You don't see many older elves around - and from this ranger's silver-grey hair, braided and tied back in a red band, one might think that she's past her prime - but the look on her face would suggest otherwise. In fact, her entire demeanor would fit more on a far younger - and far more reckless-looking - person.

Her quiver, slung over her shoulder, is filled with numerous jet-black arrows.

She's tall, even for an elf, and as she walks over and looms over their table, she says directly to Bonepipe, "You got somethin' you want to say to me, little man?"

The dwarf - Urgon - grumbles something that sounds like a dwarvish curse, and shoves something that looks like a small chest deeper down into his satchel as he stands as well, but doesn't move any closer to the group.Byron is, perhaps, a little less obvious in her staring, and is able to catch a better glimpse of the ranger in particular as she approaches.

---

Mance, meanwhile, is over at the bar with Arl. As expected, the tavern owner looks eager for new gossip. At Mance's talk of travelling the lava flows, the dwarf nods. "You mean the Inferno? Aye, I've hear that rumor. They say the very land of these islands is magic, and the River Inferno is a part of that. Lava with no volcano - no source at all." He wipes down one of the leather tankards he has with a cloth. "But, seeing as it's magic, there's supposed to be magic ways around it. People have seen floating chunks of ice travelling down that river, if you can believe it. But, it's not any ol' ice that does the trick."

"I'm afraid I can't help ya with the details - I'm no mage. But, if you get on the Buyer's good side, he might have something to say about it. He's a wizard, you know? Or, you might not... he hardly talks about that these days."