Rain veils the road beyond the tavern’s eaves. Ichi stands outside as the lizardfolk patron emerges behind him, one clawed hand pressed to a bleeding scratch along his scaled forearm.
The Lizardfolk Patron
Do not follow the frost blindly. It was not there when I entered the tavern.
The lizardfolk patron points down the muddy road. Thin frost marks trail away from the tavern, each pale print vanishing beneath the rain before the next appears.
The Dwarf Woman
Ichi! The cellar door is holding, but only for now. The elf is helping me brace it.
Behind them, the tavern door remains open to the storm. Blue light pulses through the gap, while the dwarf woman’s voice strains from somewhere below.
The Lizardfolk Patron
I stayed inside to watch the seam. Then something scratched me from the darkness, and the frost led outward.
The Lizardfolk Patron
If the path reaches the road, the cellar is no longer the only entrance.
✓ Quest Accepted
Stop the spreading frost
“*I stab the air where the frost foot steps walk*”
FAILURE (Good Melee Weapons, rolled -3)
Ichi steps toward the nearest fading frost print and drives his knife through the empty air above it. The blade meets no solid target.
Instead, the pale footprint collapses inward around the knife’s path. Frost flashes up the blade, numbing Ichi’s hand, and the marked trail breaks apart into scattered crystals.
The Lizardfolk Patron
That was no footstep. It was a sign, and you have cut it loose.
The remaining prints stop vanishing beneath the rain. Each one turns dark and wet, revealing ordinary mud beneath, while the knife’s frost crawls toward its hilt.
The Lizardfolk Patron
Sheathe it before the cold reaches your arm. Whatever made that path is no longer showing us where it went.
The last pale mark fractures with a brittle sound and dissolves into the road. Behind them, blue light still pulses through the tavern doorway, but the road offers no further trail.
“*I stab the air where the frost foot steps walk*”
SUCCESS (Good Melee Weapons, rolled +0)
Ichi drives his knife through the air above the nearest frost footprint. The pale mark collapses around the blade, bursting into crystals that sting his hand.
The frost crawls toward the knife’s hilt before stopping. Ichi’s fingers stiffen around the grip, and the remaining prints darken into ordinary mud.
The Lizardfolk Patron
That was a sign, not a trail. You cut it loose, but the cold has taken payment from your hand.
The Lizardfolk Patron
Sheathe the knife before the numbness reaches your arm. Whatever made those marks no longer shows us where it went.
Behind them, blue light pulses through the tavern doorway. From below comes a muffled crash, followed by the dwarf woman’s strained shout.
The Dwarf Woman
Ichi! The cellar door is buckling again. If you are leaving, leave now, before this house gives the road another entrance.
The Lizardfolk Patron
The road is quiet for the moment. Your work here is finished, unless you choose to make the tavern’s trouble yours.