Twenty winters. Twenty winters I have been living in this world. Twenty winters, and with every one the world seems more and more like the one that chewed me up and spit me out before I came here.

“Please, no! I didn’t mean anything by it!”

A miserable worm of a snow goblin cowered before me. The wretch had been greedy, and tried to steal food from the warband’s stores. Perhaps he thought being a runt, and smaller than the other warriors, the ones who had lived through many battles, would keep him from view, or perhaps he thought that, since he had tallied a few victories to his name, that he was entitled to more. Either way, there were too many people around, and he was caught. They were always caught. But some people let their bellies get in the way of what little brains they had.

Life in this Endless Glacier was no different than it had been on the tundra of Frostwind Dale. Food was one of the most precious supplies that a warband could have. Stealing from the supplies meant to last everyone through the winter was worse even than murder on the list of crimes, as far as these people were concerned. A murderer ended one life, sure, but there would be fewer mouths to feed, in the end. A thief, if not caught early enough, could spell doom for the entire tribe if the weather turned bad.

Some things could not be allowed.

Melinda’s Attack (Snow Goblin): 1d20+27 = 41 (Hit)

Damage: 4d6+3 = 12 (Nonlethal) (Unconscious)

I silenced the worm with my boot across his jaw. I hit him with the side of my foot, not the heel, to ensure that I did not give him the easy way out. The thief sought to take from the warband, the tribe. It was only fitting that his death served the tribe.

“Take him to the altar.”

At my command, two snow goblins picked up the worm by the shoulders, wicked grins on their faces. They knew, as did everyone in the encampment, what the penalty for stealing from the tribe was. I had made that clear, the first time someone tried to challenge me.

Soon, the goblin was secured to the travel altar made of hide and bone. It was a design I copied from my kin. It was not the most ornate altar, perhaps, but it was dedicated in honor of my goddess, Auril. Here, upon the glacier, all knew of the Frostmaiden, and paid homage, whether they wished to or not.

I felt the dark power wash over me as I approached. The altar had been enchanted, to radiate the effects of the Desecrate and Unhallow spells, enhancing the altar’s connection to the darker powers in the world. This was important, since it would help to enhance the effect of what was to come, bolstering my meager skills.

Ideally, this would be done by someone with more training in religious rites than I had, but I was the leader of the group, and so it fell to me to carry out the rites. If it were for anything but the punishment of a thief or a traitor, then one of the priests would have taken over. But honor demanded that I be the one to do this. So, do it I would.

I drew a dagger made from unmelting blue ice from my belt. I’d had this dagger since I left my homeland, seven years ago. Of course, this dagger was not the same as it was when I first grasped it. I had gotten it enchanted with grim purpose, just for situations like this, where I had to do what must be done.

Merciful Blade

Type

Dagger

Weight

1 lb

Damage

1d4+1

Damage Type

Piercing / Slashing

Critical

19-20 / x2

Thrown Range

10 ft

This +1 Blue Ice Dagger is highly prized by servants of dark gods. When used in conjunction with a sacrificial rite, a Sacrificial Knife conveys a +3 competence bonus on the Knowledge (Religion) check.

Blue Ice - +1 enhancement to attack and damage (does not stack with enchantments)

Icedawn’s Mercy – When damaging a creature, cast Cure Light Wounds (CL 1) on the target.

Melinda’s Damage (Snow Goblin): 1d4+4 = 5 (Slashing)

Melinda’s Healing: 1d8+1 = 6 (Healing)

As I drew the blade lightly across the goblin’s arm, it drew blood, but the wound closed up again that instant. But the blade’s healing power had another effect, which was the one I most desired at the moment. It restored the goblin to consciousness.

“Wintut of the Iceclaw Tribe, you have stolen from your people. The Goddess Auril, Maiden of Frost and Snow, She Who Brings Winter’s Beauty and Winter’s Wrath, demands recompense! You shall serve her people, one final time, with your pain, your suffering, and your life!”

The goblin screamed in fury, and fought against his bonds. It wasn’t any use, of course. The other goblins had done their jobs well.

Another cut, and the wound healed even as it was made. He tried yelling, now. It didn’t work.

Another cut. And another. And another. Again, and again, I went about my work, making sure to not hit too deeply, and staying away from critical areas. For an hour, I kept up the ceremony, as screams turned to pleading, first for mercy, and then, eventually, for death.

Melinda’s Knowledge (Religion) check: 1d20+23 = 42

And, in due time, I gave him his end, stabbing the icy blade into his chest. With rough motions, I cut out the goblin’s still-beating heart, and held it aloft to those watching the spectacle. “All praise to Icedawn!”

As the crowd repeated the response back to me, the wind picked up, and snow swirled about me. “Icedawn hears us, my people! Auril Frostmaiden witnesses us!”

And then, the snow stilled, and the world with it. I alone could move. Just myself, and a blue-skinned figure clad in white with frost in her hair, stepping through the crowd as though they were not there. Power radiated from her as she smiled upon me.

I bowed low, for I recognized her, even though I had never seen her before in the flesh. There was only one being that this could be, after all. “My Goddess Icedawn, you honor us with your presence.”

The goddess smiled. “My child, ever have you been faithful in this world not originally your own. You have done well, uniting the tribes and monsters of the glacier under your banner. Through your works, my power has grown in these lands.

“But there is a time of change coming. The prophecies foretold to the entire world are speeding rapidly into place. You will need allies in the days to come, as you did in the Moonwood. And this army you are building needs seasoning. They have lived in autumn days so far. It is time that they face winter’s bite, and become stronger for it.”

“Command me, and I’ll go. Which of your enemies shall the army turn their wrath upon first? They are still raw, but they should be more than up to the task of subjugating the local forces.”

“I do not doubt it, my child. But you and they will have to walk separate roads for a time. Let your lieutenants deal with the army in your stead. You are not yet ready to face the fight that you are destined to. You must get stronger.”

I nodded slowly, understanding. The prophecy that everyone had been talking about for the last tenday sounded rather on the nose to me, to begin with. A golden-haired woman in the sea of ice? When I was living on the edge of a glacier? Yeah, I would have had to be blind not to see that possibility.

But possibility was different from having things all but confirmed for me, by the goddess I served. Sure, she hadn’t come out and said directly that I would be killing a god, but she hadn’t said I wouldn’t, either. Actually, thinking about it, the prophecy just said ‘bring about’ the death of a god. That didn’t necessarily mean she’d be getting the killing blow, or even be the one fighting. Could be she just set up the fight.

Either way, getting involved with gods was not something that you should do without preparing as much as possible. If I wanted to be at a level that I wouldn’t be squashed immediately the moment a hostile god turned their gaze my way, I’d need to get stronger. And that meant I needed to seek out foes to defeat and allies to stand with me.

“Go south, to Breledo, in the Kingdom of Truyle. There, you will find allies, and the path forward. Go now, in my name, Melinda Rimedancer, and play your part.”

And, with those parting words, the goddess joined the swirling snow, which started moving again, along with the rest of the world. Our entire conversation had happened in the span between one heartbeat and the next. Truly, the gods had incredible power in this world.

I took a breath, and looked at the people closest to me. “My people, the Frostmaiden has seen us, and witnessed us! And she has given unto me a message! You have heard of the prophecies that have come to all peoples. It is time for us to prepare, so that we can do our part in fulfilling the prophecies, and bringing Her will to the world!

“Freth Icetongue, step forward!” One of the female Frostfolk stepped forward, wearing a breastplate and carrying a heavy two-handed polearm. She was a Marshall in the service of Auril. Anyone that knew the two of us knew that she was always going to be the one leading this group of ragtag castoffs and unwanted monsters into battle.

“My people, we all have a long way to go before we are ready for the final battle. The goddess commands that I seek out allies to bring to our cause, walking the path of danger as I do so. This means I must leave you for a time.”

I spread my hands to quiet the crowd. “Freth shall be my general, and commanding in my stead as our people march to war.” Focusing my gaze on Freth, I said, “Your task is to begin carving out and creating a kingdom, one which we can build off of, and launch ourselves into the future with.

“But we both know that the parties residing upon the glacier itself, whether they be the elementals of Icemelt or the giants of Coldkeep Hold, are too much for the army in its current state. Your task is to blood them, in the only true way there is. Take the forces, and begin attacking and capturing all the surrounding towns to the south.

“Incorporate the captured peoples as you wish, so long as there aren’t on any uprisings. When you finally reach Trenia, then I wish for you to take the city, though you need not do so immediately. The goal is to secure a base for our operations, and to strengthen our warriors and our numbers, not to waste them. I trust your judgement, and your skill in this task.”

The marshal bowed her head, and said, “As you wish it, so shall it be, my lady. But what of you? If you are not going to be with us in the field, where shall you be?”

“My path lies to the south, in lands where our goddess is only spoken of in idle whispers of silly northern superstitions. They do not know Her power, or Her fury. But there are some in those heathen lands that can prove to be useful allies, according to the goddess. And there are many more that will provide me some measure of challenge, so that I can grow further, and prepare for the tasks ahead of me.”

“Then, when you return, I shall present Trenia as a gift to you, as the seat of your new realm.”

As the crowd cheered at that thought, I nodded. “So, let it be.” Looking over the crowd, I called out, “Ebonheart! To me! It is time we were off on the Frostmaiden’s business!”

There was a neigh in answer, and, from the outer edge of the crowd, a majestic black unicorn, wearing armor designed to inspire fear approached. Upon its back was a saddle with six black spikes shooting up from the backrest. Upon each spike was the skull of a creature that I had killed personally.

I smiled as I stroked the unicorn’s mane. Sure, I could fly faster than Ebonheart’s feet could take me, but I had learned a long time ago that image was everything. If you look like a girl that is barely a woman, without weapon or armor to defend yourself, that is what people will treat you as. If you look like a warlord born of dread, then people will hesitate before offering disrespect.

“Ready for another adventure, my friend?”

The unicorn whinnied, and said, in that neighing voice of his, “Of course, bring on the battle and the slaughter! It has been far too long!”

Laughing, I swung up into the saddle with ease born of long practice. Taking up the reigns that were more for show than actual use, I said, “Then, take us to Dawnport. That is the place furthest south we’ve been together, as I recall, and should be but two tendays from Truyle, where the Frostmaiden bade me go.”