To be honest, if I had not had my memories of my old life, I would have been utterly lost, suddenly living in a city like Sleetmouth. The Tribes mostly used a barter economy. Sometimes, they had coin, especially when it was raided from travelers. Everyone liked the way gold got all shiny, after all. But for the most part? They didn’t use money, because what good was money when you were all part of the Tribe? If you needed new shoes, you either made them yourself, or you went to someone with leatherworking skills. In return, warriors went out hunting, which provided the leather and bones used for crafting, and the meat we ate at meals. There was simply no comparison with modern living.

So, suddenly dealing with ‘citydwellers’, and having to use money would have been a problem if I hadn’t had my old life to draw on. The Buggered Banshee was a simple inn. Not luxury accommodations, but Sleetmouth was on the frontier. Luxury was a rare thing out here, and usually only reserved for the rich and powerful. Still, the food was good, the water fresh and clean, and the bed was comfortable enough, so that was all I needed, for the time being. Only cost eight silver coins, which was not too bad.

The next morning, I walked through the town, trying to come up with some way I could make a living until the caravans came in a month or two. I had enough coin on me, thanks to the reward from Wilmot and Lord Emberlash, as well as what had been in Grold’s pack, that I could simply relax and enjoy myself for a month, but that seemed like a poor way to spend my time. I would get soft, and lazy, if I did that. Even in my old life, until I was taken, I had always tried to practice as much as possible, so I could keep in shape.

My options were somewhat limited in terms of marketable skills, of course. I could hunt, as I’d been taught by the tribes, but there were plenty of hunters already, and the city also lived off the fish from the lakes. I had some skill in painting, but I didn’t have any tools, and it would take too long to try and establish myself as an artist to actually make coin at it. My only other skill would be dancing.

Hmm. That was a possibility, but dancing in taverns often gave people the wrong idea. I mean, I could handle myself if a drunk asshole tried anything, but it was inviting trouble. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to put myself out there like that. It was dancing that had gotten me… noticed in my first life, after all.

No. No! That bastard was dead, and I wasn’t going to let him haunt me in another life, in another world! I wasn’t going to be anyone’s victim. Never again. I could dance, and I’d make some coin from it. Maybe not much, considering the town, but it would be enough to get by.

With that in mind, I had a plan for the day. I would check out the town, and find someplace where I could perform. I hadn’t been able to really get an idea of the layout of the city yesterday, so I’d need to do that. Oh, and maps. If I could get maps of the city, and the Dale, that would be helpful. A map of the world would be great, too, but I doubted I’d find a good one here in the wilds.

But first, I would go down to the city gate, and see if I could find the chapel devoted to Auril. I needed to thank her properly for interceding along with the spirit of Indsamling during the Gathering. I had prayed to her, but I did not want a goddess to think I was ungrateful for her boons. There were plenty of stories about such things, and they never ended up well for the mortals who scorned the gods.

Finding the shrine was easy enough, now that I knew to look for it. Set just inside the main gate, not the one leading up from the docks that I had come into the city from, was a plot of land with a stone pavilion in the center of it, with an altar emblazoned with the snowflake in diamond symbol that signified the Cold Goddess. The altar was open to the sky, with no roof over it, and no walls to keep out the wind or cold. Braziers stood at the four corners of the pavilion, ensuring that there would be light, even at night, when most of the ceremonies of the Frostmaiden were carried out, but their magical flames were an icy blue, and gave off no heat.

Behind the altar stood a statue, an image of the Lady of Winter herself. She stood there, carved from blue ice like my dagger was, and the shimmer of magic shone around it, a glamour that colored the icy sculpture slightly, allowing those who viewed it to more easily make out the features of the goddess, without disrupting the purity of the ice it was made from. In one hand, she held another magical flame of icy blue that gave no heat, but, unlike the others, I could feel the cold coming from it, like you would feel the heat from a campfire. In her other hand, she held an ice axe, a weapon and tool perfectly suited for those who lived in her domain.

“Ah, so you’ve come at last.”

I turned at the sound, and saw a human woman standing in the doorway of a well-constructed building made of wood and sealed against the weather (or thieves). The doorway was marked with the symbol of Auril. It was too large for a simple storeroom, so it must combine both the priestess’s home and secure storage for any reagents or valuables used in rituals and rites.

The woman herself was tall, and while one would be hard pressed to call her pretty, there was an air about her that drew the eye. Statuesque would be the word. Her hair was blonde, like those of the tribes, and her eyes were a piercing blue. It was hard to tell her age. I did not doubt that she’d seen at least twice as many winters as I had, but she did not look to be as old as she acted. She moved with purpose as she approached me, looking me over with a critical eye.

“Thirteen years ago, my Lady gave word to me in a dream of a Twice-Souled who had chosen to follow her, of her own will, when she came to this world. When no newborn children bore her mark, or the wings she told me you would bear, I knew then that you had been born to the Tribes. I did not know when you would come, but I knew that, someday, you would seek this place out.”

I bowed respectfully to the woman, and said, “Would you be Emeline, the Priestess that Wilmot of the Guard told me about? I would have come last night, but I had flown far in the last two days, and was in need of rest. I am Melinda Eriksdaughter, and I was born to the Tribes, though I am exiled now.”

Emeline nodded. “So, Wilmot saw fit to guide you here? Good on him. I would have sought you out if you had not come today, since your arrival caused quite the stir. But it is well that Wilmot sent you to me. He knows not to risk the ire of the Frostmaiden, not when this Dale is ever in her power.”

I smiled. “After meeting with the Lord of the City, I was fairly surprised that a shrine to the Lady would be allowed. How did you manage to keep him from finding some ‘righteous’ cause to drive you out?”

Emeline snickered. “Ah, yes, you did get to meet my brother.” She must have seen my face, because she broke into a wide grin. “Yes, my brother. I am of the Emberlash family, same as him, which is somewhat ironic, considering the circumstances. He is bound by oaths to his god, but he is more pragmatic than others of his kind. He follows the Sun God, Lathander, rather than hidebound Torm, as most paladins are wont to do.”

“My apologies, Priestess. I admit that I do not have much knowledge of the differences between the two. Other than Tempus, God of Battles, there are few other gods talked about openly in the Tribes, save for the Frostmaiden, as her power is always around us.”

“No harm in admitting that, my dear,” she said, while guiding me to a pair of wooden chairs set before the residence. “You know of the one most important to you, being sworn to the Lady, and that’s enough for most. But some more general knowledge would not hurt you, either. Torm is the self-proclaimed guardian of everything against all evil. The paladins you’ve heard tales of, who smite first, smite second, and only consider if they should have asked questions when everything falls upon their head? They are Torm’s.”

We shared a chuckle at that, before she continued on. “Now, the Morninglord is another type altogether. He’s not bad, as the ‘good’ gods go. He would see evil struck down, of course, and looks always to what would help the softer souls, instead of challenging them and forcing them to grow. However, he is not as… rigorous in his views as Torm is. He may be ‘good’, but he understands the balance of things, and that other forces, like the Lady, have a place in the world. He may not like it, but he understands it.”

“As a result, his paladins, what few there are, do not have quite the same stringency in their codes as Torm’s would. A Paladin of Torm would see me, and this shrine, as a source of evil and corruption, and would ‘purge’ both without thinking. Lathander first looks at the role the shrine plays in the city. Brother or no, if I were to go on some campaign trying to harm the city or its people, the Lord of the City would be bound by his oaths to oppose me. But, if I make coin by selling the protection of the Lady from the worst of the winter storms, or helping to defend the city from threats from outside, he is able to say that I am a necessary part of the balance, even if he is prevented from associating with me directly.”

“Priestess, how did such a situation arise. Forgive me if I’m being impertinent, but a noble house called Emberlash is not the place I would expect a follower of the Frostmaiden to be born. Even in a land like this, such a thing strains belief.”

Emeline laughed, and shook her head. “Oh, it was a great surprise to my parents and brother as well, I assure you! A child from a long line of followers of the Morninglord, turning to the Cold Goddess? Scandalous! Suffice to say, I’ve always felt a connection to the ice and snow. Even as a child, before I first was able to read my Status, I enjoyed playing in the snow, and the crisp taste of winter air. And I’ll be the first to admit that I was not as caring about individuals or groups as my brother was, even at that age.”

“Unlocking, as some call it, is different for those of us born in this world than it is for you Twice-Souled, of course. Our path, our class, is set from birth, and while we can gain new classes as we grow, the first is always set. I cannot speak about those with other paths, but for those who are on the path of the divine, a choice is given to them, where they pick who they will follow.”

“Now, obviously, any mortal can choose a goddess to follow, without being a divine spellcaster. However, for those who are channeling the divine’s power, that gives us certain advantages depending on the goddess we choose, and the domains offered to us. When I saw what the System offered, I knew upon first glance that Auril was the one I would pledge myself to. I went straight from my Unlocking, to find the local Priestess, and join the clergy.”

“But I thought you were a Cleric? Wouldn’t you have been a part of the clergy already?”

“Ah, no. It may be different for other gods, but for the Lady, one need not be a member of the clergy to channel her power, and one need not be a divine spellcaster to join the clergy. That kind of setup is far too rigid for Her tastes. In fact, the Lady told me that you might be an interesting candidate for her clergy, if you chose to join.”