Baba Yaga Intervened in the Norlandic Chosen’s rampant slaughtering of cultists, spiriting them away to her chicken legged hut. Clearly the imbalance of the elements was too trivial a matter for these brutes. Their destiny threads called them to a far greater fate.
Hel had come to her, asking for her to force the young tiefling into submission and remove the Fossegrim’s protection. Baba Yaga was no stranger to the pleas of mortals; but a god would have far more to offer her. She would do this ritual, and in return she would alter the very fabric of reality, setting things up to be more… amusing. Perhaps she would even be able to keep it secret for a time.
“What the fuck? Again? Where the fuck are we now?”
“Theeth woodth look familiar. I think we’re near Folkthung!”
Brush and scraggly vegetation crunched underfoot as everyone explored the area.
“Guys, I think I found the road. And judging by the mountains… I’d say we’re near Icewall”
“Didn’t we have a boat?”
“I think we thould go home”
“Why the fuck would we want to do that?”
“Don’t you live in a cave Helson?”
“No, I live with Thyvoth!”
Weeks later, in the town of Icewall, the Norlandic Chosen are approached by a man of regal bearing who introduces himself as Prince Arvi, son of King Lifthransir, of the Castle of the Winds. He is looking for a party to clean out his family’s castle and return a magic helm so he can end his family’s curse. The vikings are looking for plunder and adventure, and possibly a castle. A short negotiation and a long walk later, the party arrives at the Castle of the Winds.
The gate is rotted off the hinges, dust everywhere and a disturbing lack of tracks.
“Are we even sure we’re at the right castle?”
“Ya, he said this is the one.”
Upon exploring a bit more, and almost dying horribly to a combination of bad aim and an emaciated carrion crawler, the group found an enchanted throne… that tells them they need to defeat a god of fire, steal a stolen treasure, and prevent Ragnarok!
After trying to kill the throne unsuccessfully, everyone decided to go downstairs and drink booze with the were-rats. They aren’t too happy about that since they did all the brewing, but they weren’t given a choice in the matter.
Slowed only momentarily in their murderspree by the orc guards, the Chosen rush to the next party they can hear. Only 1 of the 5 partygoers is excited to see the guestlist double. After dispatching all the ogres and releasing the prisoner, Helson decides to offer a massage and happy ending to the prisoner. Horribly disturbed by this, he decides instead to risk bleeding to death as he heads back to town as quickly as possible.