You discuss matters more with Madam Magthyra, and she says she would welcome return of the missing book of the first eye, but doesn’t say what kind of welcome she’d give. Shrett tries pressing her for more information on the Mask of Beast Mastery, and perhaps for a future loan of it, but she is stubbornly protective of it and stonewalls his polite request with few words and stern looks. She leads you around her museum, being remarkably trusting and open about explaining things, including where some more secret passages are, and she procures an elaborate key that opens the cells, which she invites you to enter and touch certain relics that retain some magics that can bless visitors, refreshing every season.

Among the relics you touch are:

• A jade mask on a skeleton in the Liberator section, which gives Shrett 1 use of Clever Tongue (1 MP and action, any failed social skill = success instead [does not affect Fumbles]; lasts Invocation skill/10 minutes).
• A silver broadsword placed on a slab, which gives Fraud 1-use Lightning (1 MP and action, range of Invocation skill in metres, Resist w/Evade, Invocation skill/20 = d6 damage, only magical armour like Shield protects)
• A spiked bowl, which hurts Bog’s arm when he touches it but gives him 1-use Summon Shadow: Area (Metres), Cost 1, Duration (Minutes), Ranged (Tens of Metres)–This spell creates a region of shadow whose edges undulate to and from. The area it covers is defined by the parameters of the spell, but has a height equal to one quarter of its diameter. The depth of shadow depends upon the cult rank of the caster –an initiate can create a darkness equivalent to dim twilight, capable of supporting a Dark Walk spell, but still deep enough to cancel the effects of sunlight on light sensitive beings such as cave trolls and trollkin; whilst a devotee creates a pitch-black area so dark that fire or other illumination within the area can be perceived, but illuminates nothing, necessitating the use of Darksense to ‘see’.

You’re shown plenty more things, but no more magics.

The Madam says she’d value any information on who sent the spirits to attack tonight or who committed the murder. You part ways, with her saying you’ve earned her friendship and she welcomes your return. As you go back upstairs and exit the kitchen into the main “patio” area, some of you see two cloaked figures, who especially are familiar to Shrett, exit the building ahead of you. You’re not sure if they saw you but they were the same people that tailed you from the Slurping Serpent earlier in the day.

You’re all weary. Shrett and Bog part ways with Boamund and Fraud as they head back to the inn. Shrett leads Bog back to the Slurping Serpent, which is humming with business now that the night has fallen and the more intense snow and cold have driven people indoors. In the left side corner, they see the man that Shrett is expecting to meet with, who had also tailed you from the Slurping Serpent and offered to meet with Shrett again that night. Bog tries casually going to the bar nearby while Shrett sidles up to the man with two drinks. He’s again putting on an act of being drunk, barely able to hold himself up. Before he takes the mug of beer, he expresses anger that Shrett brought Bog (of course he’s not drunk, and seems keen-eyed enough that he spotted Bog come in). He tells Shrett to get rid of Bog; he doesn’t buy an excuse that Bog is there as backup. So Shrett tells Bog to go back to the inn and Bog roughly pushes his way out, causing plenty of outraged grumbles but no one dares to challenge him for his rudeness.

The man directs the conversation upstairs and wanders drunkenly up there, where there is an open space with scattered chairs around it, and dancers and drummers within the open space. The shimmering cylinder of the serpent continues up here and the noise is more obfuscatory, making it easier to have private conversations up close, and the shadows are thicker because of the dim glow of the serpent’s home and the fewer oil lamps here. The man pulls a hood down and his face changes—is this his actual face, or an illusory one? Shrett isn’t sure. Shrett and the man have an awkward conversation. He knows some basics about you, from overhearing your chats with the bartender Kartan. He’s interested in more, and presses to understand Shrett, who talks in general terms which doesn’t please the man much. They dance around topics, and it isn’t clear how the man feels about Shrett’s mention that you are trying to get help against the Rokari church. Shrett does detect a hint of Tanisoran accent on this guy. However, once Shrett mentions that you seek to defeat any Chaos you can find, he gets much more interested. He trades the information that he has friends around the coasts of Lake Felster here and is from elsewhere, collecting information here in Estali. Shrett sort of probes about islands on the lake, hoping to get mention of Partan, but the reply isn’t so specific. The man is very wary and doesn’t divulge a lot of details but says that he can be called Estrent, and that he is often here. Then he notes that his ale, much of which he has spilled, is empty and he stumbles downstairs. Shrett goes back to the inn and you all get some very, very well-earned rest. Estrent remains a mystery but Shrett figures he at least has a new contact who seems to have some common ground and may have useful connections?

Morning greets you with intensified snows covering Estali City, icicles hanging from the rooftops, and a firm chill in the air. Valind’s grip grows stronger. You make way to the Sailor’s Guild on the northwest side of town, seeking a meeting with the Admiral. The harbour is a lovely area with colourful artwork and fine architecture. There is aTemple to Safa with a large statue of the goddess of the lake (beauty, youth, and rain) outside. The Sailor’s Guild is a nice building on the waterfront and there is a lot of activity around it—sailors, merchants, slaves and more. The snows haven’t stopped business. But you note some growing ice floes on the lake, and Bog comments that he knows Lake Felster to freeze over sometimes in Dark and Storm Seasons. You’re less than 2 weeks into Dark Season, so you expect aquatic travel might get harder if the cold weather holds long enough. You meet a sailor-guard at the Guild and he assumes you’re customers looking for passage across the lake, but then changes his tune to gracious politeness when you show the letter from the Archon. The man expediently gets you a boat to the outer harbour. There, you marvel at a huge fortress-barge anchored outside it, which you’d thought from a distance was a great building, but instead has a massive, stout wooden barge topped with a stone ziggurat, bristling with weaponry and abuzz with the activity of marines. You’ve seen a lot of amazing ships in your time, but this is a new one. Surely some powerful enchantments must be active to keep it afloat. You go inside the circular stone walls of the harbour into the enclosed military space, where there are more, smaller ships and plenty of docks and people going about their business. Estali’s reputation as a major naval power in Safelster is obvious here.

You land and are briskly whisked off into the central fortress, which is finely decorated in blue and green colours, and imagery of warriors and sailors and myths of Safa as well as the sky-river, Lorion. The solar motifs so common in Estali City aren’t evident; no depictions of horses and such. And in a hall that is adorned with weapons and a couple of grand frescoes of myths of the heroes of Safa and Lorion, you have a brief wait before the admiral comes in, accompanied by two soldiers. Admiral Trom Grandscar is a man in his early 50s with, fitting his name, has a wicked scar crossing his face. He wears gorgeous aluminium armour in a draconic style; bright blue-laquered; which is a marvel and surely of huge value. He has a powerful, commanding presence channeled through his shining grey eyes. He gives you a once-over and welcomes you, and you do your introductions together. He says that he has loyally served Estali for over 25 years, and the current Archon today. He notes, to your keen interest, that he was a young marine at the storming of Parthan Island, and has fought enemies across Ralios. He reads the letters from the Archon and then Baron Ornim with increasing enthusiasm, and smiles warmly at you by the time he’s done, although he keeps his gaze off of Bog after his first look. He isn’t hiding some sort of dislike for trolls, and Bog is used to that.

You come around to explaining what has brought you here: the recent grisly murders that have plagued the city. He says he knows this from a report his people have gathered: the victims (seven nights ago now) were man (Dayir) and a woman (Togene), betrothed, and good soldiers. They were off duty, apparently out for a stroll along the harbour, and then they were found dead with the blasphemous walking heads. A patrol found the things and quickly slew them. The Admiral saw the remains and recognised the evidence. The heads were not severed with cutting weapons, he grimly remarks. The necks were dissolved off with something that wrapped around them. The legs were not crab legs; they were krarshtkid legs. But there are no leads as to the killers. Even magics have not revealed anything yet. He is having his people investigate at many levels. As to the cult of Krarsht, when you ask he responds that this is the first time in his career here that there has been a hint of them active along the waterfront. And he is very vexed that he has not been able to progress this mystery further. An added problem is that Estali City, like many around Safelster, has an underground warren of countless tunnels, catacombs, sewers and cisterns from the First Ages onwards, and they’ve found no krarshtkid tunnels along the waterfront but they could be anywhere. You say you’ll continue looking into the case, and he thanks you. You leave feeling good about having another ally in a key position.

You’re aware that you have a 1.5 day journey to Ridalstead in service to Alangellia, and the morning is moving onwards, so you pack up, leaving your mounts stabled, and you ensure you have all you need for camping in the snows, including thick hide tarps for tents and to shelter a campfire at dinnertime. You’ve been given decent directions and cautioned that it’s cross-country trip through rural lands and some patches of wilderness. There already is enough snow to have covered any trails. Unlike the Old Manirian Road, which is clearer but slushy, the ground out there to the southeast is covered in ever-thickening snow. You head out before noon.

It’s a comfortable enough journey. The cold doesn’t bite you as harshly as it might thanks to Boamund’s attention ensuring you’re well-bundled up and that you follow the correct landmarks of villages, natural features, path markers and such. You camp that night in sufficient comfort, and the night is a quiet one, despite the blowing winds and snow that forms drifts onto your tents. So you head out the next day, the end of the second week of Dark Season. Boamund does an excellent job taking care of you and navigating the snowfields and blowing snows; none of you feel too much of the chill.

You hear a strange sound, like a bellowing distorted by the wind. It is quite hard to determine the provenance because of the storm. But Shrett thinks the call is of a suffering bull or cow. Soon after, you see a dark shape ahead, remaining still on the ground, and spot splashes of bright red blood around it. It is, as you carefully approach closer, a badly wounded bull, lying on its side with two great raking slash marks across its flank. Its guts are exposed and a lung has been pierced. It is not long for this world, and so Shrett gives it a merciful dispatch. He inspects the slashes and concludes these are claw marks, from no common predator such as bear or lion; nothing, Bog says, that is known in these parts. They are made by the claws of some big monster. You leave the dead bull and continue across rural Ralios.

Some time afterwards, the air is torn apart by a piercing, shrill cry of something big and nasty—not a suffering beast, but a threat. The snow interferes with the hearing and, once more, it is rather difficult to say where it comes from. Shrett watches the skies but sees only the white-out weather.

As you trudge through the quickly accumulating snow, you discover an even creepier scene: a man is curled up on a branch of a fifteen metres tall oak tree, about five metres off the ground. You carefully and slowly approach in single file. The man is covered in frost: he seems to have frozen to death, maybe. You don’t drag him down or climb up to inspect him, but you can see armour, beard and hair, and an empty sword scabbard (with no sword lying nearby, although snow might very well have covered it). Exploring around the tree reveals that recent snow has accumulated in some kind of wide furrow, around one-meter wide, dug into the older, denser snow. The track calls to mind the passage of some big snake (Fraud notes this) or worm or slug that would have crawled through the snow. Curiously, the bottom of the furrow is coated by a thick layer of ice that is not found elsewhere in the vicinity. But the track continues away from the circle. Ever the more wary, you follow this.

The furrow leads to a horse that is lying on its side, breathing heavily, with its mouth foaming and some of that fluid having become frosty. Unlike the bull, it appears unwounded. The beast lies right at the end of the trough, which does not continue further. It seems that the horse, which is incredibly exhausted and slightly suffering from exposure, must have crawled here on its belly from the tree. Shrett judges it would take many hours for the poor thing to recover so he slits its throat and its hot blood gushes forth, steaming in the cold snowfall. The horse, which is a light brown; auburn or dun in colour (matching the local Estali breed you’ve seen); has signs of having been saddled before and bears marks of Galanini ownership. The mystery has deepened—how did this horse get here, why did it circle the tree, and was the man trying to escape it, or something else, maybe the thing that killed that bull?

You hike further across fields and groves of bare fruit trees. The snow now forms drifts surpassing a metre in depth. But Boamund does very well at keeping you on solid footing for easier travel. And, after a couple more hours, you crest a low hill and look down on what you identify as Ridalstead. There is a wooden stockade surrounding it, but the gates are smashed with doors hanging aside, and you see no one around it nor within, and no clear trails of people that have moved around the interior of the stead recently. The main hall’s doors also lie wrecked and open, and there is a big hole in the roof. You close in and enter the stead grounds. No one greets you. There is just heavy snow and lashing winds. No houses show smoke evidencing hearths active within. You go to the main hall in the centre of the stead grounds.

It is a 20m-long building with a low slopped thatch roof pierced by a huge irregular hole (4×3 m). The stout wooden walls are pierced with small slit-windows barred with thin oiled calfskin. On the south side, the main doors must have led to a porch supported by two stout wood posts that are nicely carved with Galanini symbols. But the whole structure has been torn down and bears obvious traces of a fire, and what is not sheltered from the snow by edges of the roof is covered in some patches of snow. You creep into the building.

In the middle of the room a central fireplace is partially buried by beams and slabs of thatch covered in snow, remnants from the broken roof. It is bitterly cold: the wind is blowing through the broken wall and pierced roof and the embers in the fire pit have long since died out. Long trestle tables and benches used to be dressed around the fireplace, but all furniture has been crushed and scattered. Along the eastern and western walls, under the mezzanine, run wide benches that would be sleeping places. On the north end of the hall, there is a small shrine and a kitchen separated from the main room by an inner wall. A door on the eastern kitchen wall gives access to the outside, just in front of the granary. On the west wall, very steep wooden stairs lead to a mezzanine running all along the main room, and there are three rooms up there.

Up on that mezzanine (mostly) but also hiding in shadows around the edges of the ground floor are a few people, looking grubby and desperate. One introduces herself as Adessa Reed-Voice, the thane's widow, who is assisted by a brave cottar named Keorlan Ondurson; one of the few men left here. She musters some strength and a hint of confidence and leadership to exchange introductions, becoming visibly relieved when she learns that Alangellia sent you. She explains that the Ridalsteaders are under siege by horselike monsters. After periods of discussion and exploration, you gather a summary of the current situation and events leading up to it:

The Wizard-Sages came with documents from Archon of Estali, giving authority to explore these lands (they had bodyguards; total = 3 Sages, 5 guards)

• 4 days ago, around midday, the Wizard-Sages visited the stead to buy provisions and ask for the authorization to explore the thane’s land. They took the opportunity to question the thane’s herders, leaning on their intimate knowledge of the local terrain. Most of the herders pointed towards a big tumulus, locally known as Dwarf Cap. The Wizard-Sages soon left to visit this site, which is about 3 hours east of here.
• 4 nights ago, heavy snow fell that brought the area to a standstill. In the early afternoon, the horses stabled in Ridalstead started neighing madly. Two men braved the storm to check what was going on. They did not return… The thane Farakt went out on his porch only to face a fiery horse whose face ended in a hooked eagle beak; the creature reared, flailing talons towards the terrified man. He only had time to throw himself backwards! His men forced the creature back with spears and then barricaded the door.

Unfortunately, the floor of the porch caught fire from the monster, with its body’s flames protected from the snow by the jutting roof, and thus able to set fire to its surroundings. The wind fanned the flames and blew them towards the wooden walls. Soon the veranda was ablaze. The snow-covered thatch roof was not at risk, but the flames threatened to spread to the inner beams. Thane Farakt Sun-Colt and his relatives armed themselves with axes to tear down the burning wall and throw away the burning logs. Suddenly, the creature, unafraid of the flames, attacked. Two men died, including the thane's son, Hendulf, but the wall was torn down and the fire extinguished. However, four other similar creatures soon appeared and forced their way into the great hall, knocking over the furniture and maiming some defenders. Protected by the men, women and children took refuge upstairs in the thane's living quarters. The thane Farakt Sun-Colt was killed protecting their retreat. Shortly afterwards, one of the creatures, apparently taking advantage of the debris of the porch, climbed onto the roof, surely using its talons to cling to the thatch. The roof structure gave way under its weight, and it fell into the common room, taking part of the mezzanine with it. It broke a leg, died in the middle of the great hall, buried amongst the broken beams and pieces of thatch from the roof. Indeed, under the snowy rubble covering the hearth, the body of a horse is partially visible. The survivors say it is a monster but on closer examination you see that It is a simple horse whose flesh bears the brand of Farakt Sun-Calf; much as the first horse you saw did. Since then, the survivors have been huddled together, trying to survive the cold, while five strange monsters roam the settlement and its outskirts. The tactical situation is that 24 survivors are living in the main hall, on a mezzanine floor: 8 women and 2 men, one of whom is badly injured, an elderly couple and about 12 children. Furthermore, each of the cottar’s cabins is occupied by one woman and 2-3 children. Cottar Ormal Othgarson’s fate is unknown. Adessa is doing her best to deal with the situation. The survivors have ripped out part of the floor on the mezzanine to get access to the kitchen located just below the thane's quarters. However, now after over 4 days the reserves are almost exhausted even though the estate has a separate granary/cellar to avoid the loss of the food reserves in case a fire ravaged the main hall. The fate of the cottar families located in four other buildings within the enclosure is not known. The monsters return sporadically, with no pattern to their attacks. It almost seems like they are tormenting the poor Ridalsteaders. No one has died since the initial confrontations.

You decide to head out to see what the situation is around the stead interior. Boamund and Bog go to the:

• 6. Stables: this impressive 30m-long building is presently empty. Its doors have been knocked out of their posts and lay on the ground. they were forced from the inside, with great claw-marks scored into them. There are no horses, dead or alive, inside. There are taloned claw-tracks and hoof-tracks going out from the stable, until the snows soon cover them.
• 7. Cottars’ cabin: a small wooden building housing a family working the thane’s land. No one is there.
• 2. Granary: a high wooden structure built on small stilts, with engraved depiction of Asrelia, against rodents. Walls are plastered with packed earth against fires and topped by a slatted roof.
• 3. Barn and sheepfold: sheep were kept on the ground floor while the hayloft, supported by posts, housed the estate’s thralls, you can infer. But the place is a terrible ruin. The monsters broke the door down and surged in; the thralls climbed in the hayloft, but the monsters knocked down the posts and slaughtered the falling men and women. Frozen, dead but torn and burned bodies of men, women, children and sheep litter the area around the building. It’s a gory, sad sight.
• 4. Barn and cowshed: basically, the same as above, but the building housed bovines instead of sheep. The same carnage awaits.

Boamund and Bog are headed to check out the cluster of three cottars’ cottages when a shrieking cackle comes from somewhere out in the driving snows. They have just enough time to prepare themselves for defense as a horse-monster trots into view. Its hulking silhouette, wrapped in the mist produced by its body heat, becomes increasingly visible through the billowing curtain of snow as it hurries in. It has the appearance of a tan horse whose head ends in a sharp, serrated beak and whose front hooves have been replaced by cruel talons. Its body flickers with flames and twists the air with heat. It has two large purulent wounds on its shoulders. Bog soon recalls the myth of King Hippogriff, who had his wings and some other features torn off and eaten by Zorak Zoran. How mythically resonant now to be fighting some demonic form of that ancient foe! But there’s no time to think as it rushes in, talons slashing at him and beak rending his way. Yet Boamund is there to aid him, and the two of them quickly bring it down, then Boamund severs its head. Its fires go out as it dies, and slowly it transforms back into a horse. Boamund and Bog rush back to the main hall as they hear more shrieking cries from somewhere out in the snows, but too close for comfort.

They get back in as cries seem to close in, and they give quick explanations of what has happened as you form a defensive line just inside the wrecked doorway. Three of the flaming horse-monsters rush in soon, and two more claw and leap their way down through the hole in the roof. But you’re ready. One by one, Fraud and Bog take down their foes. The two ones that descended from above engage Bog (from behind) and Shrett (who has taken shelter to one side, avoiding the risk of being double-teamed). Although the things can defended themselves with strong scaly claws, they are not enough of a match for your skills and weapons. You take them all down without a scratch, and it only takes seconds. Each ones transforms, again, into one of Farakt Sun-Colt’s horses after it dies.

You count: now you’ve slain six of the monsters here, plus there is one dead one that fell from the roof, and the one you mercy-killed back in the wilderness. The Ridalsteaders have watched from the doorway of the thane’s room above, where all are packed inside. Adessa, when asked, says that thane Farakt owned 20 fine horses. So that means 12 are left unaccounted for. The Ridalstead grounds have fallen silent again – there are no bloodcurdling cries of the monsters at the moment. Just the howling of winds that carry in Valind’s merciless snows.

You’ve been puzzling over the identity of the creatures, and what brought them here. Adessa knows no reason why her people would be accursed. At first you wondered if the things were Chaos monsters, but the fact that they turn back into normal horses upon death casts some doubt on that. Rather, you wonder if the Wizard-Sages have some role in this— are they ensorcelling the horses and sending them as monsters, for some reason? But Shrett has seen no sorcery hereabouts with his magic sight. The timing, though, is too obvious: something about the Wizard-Sages’ visit triggered these monsters to appear. And if 12 remain outside the main hall, you hope that not all come at once! You dealt with five easily enough, but in a less advantageous defensive location or with greater numbers of foes, you’d be in big trouble.

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