TEXT: A Pathfinder Fanzine Made By Fans for Fans
  Lands of the Linnorm Kings
  Volume No. 6: Winter 2011  |  Not for Sale
  
  This product makes use of the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Core Rulebook, Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Bestiary, Pathfinder Roleplaying 
  Game GameMastery Guide, and Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Advanced Player’s Guide. These rules can be found online as part of the 
  Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Reference Document at paizo.com/pathfinderRPG/prd.
  Open Content: The game mechanics of this game product are Open Game Content, as defined in the Open Gaming License version 1.0a 
  Section 1(d), found on page 81 of this magazine. 
  Contributing Authors
  Clinton J. “thatboomerkid” Boomer, Craig Cartin, Kalyna 
  “LiteSprite” Conrad, Ryan Costello, Jr., Rich “Rebis Ouroboros” 
  Crotty, Christopher Delvo, Danielle “D Noir” Doss, Keith “Sir 
  Hexen Ineptus” Doughty, Russell “Soricel Minoi Mousefeet” 
  Estes, Robert “Snorter” Feather, Dawn “Dark Sasha” Fischer, Guy 
  “ulgulanoth” Fox, Robert “Malikjoker” Gresham, Karl J. “Kajehase” 
  Haglund, Nick “Demiurge 1138” Herold, Eric “Boxhead” Hindley, 
  Jeff  “Shadowborn”  Lee, Rob Little, Nicholas “Lavachild” Milasich, 
  Kevin Andrew Murphy, A. Morgaine “Lostandlovingit” Newis - 
  Edwards, Dain “zylphryx” Nielsen, Tom “Tom Qadim” Phillips, 
  Dane Pitchford, Alex “Daviot” Putnam, Gregg Reece, John C. 
  “ValmarTheMad” Rock, David Schwartz, Liz “HerosBackpack” 
  Smith, Margherita “Bardess” Tramontano, Larry “Larcifer” Wilhelm
  Contributing Artists
  Russell Akred, Tyler Clark, Liz Courts, Jess Door, Katie Ellis, Aaron 
  Filipowich, Crystal Frasier, Silvia Gonzalez, Frank Hessefort, Chris 
  Leaper, Elizabeth Lindhag, Dave Mallon, Stephen McAndrews, 
  Carlos Torreblanca, Jonathan Roberts, Isaac Royo, Tanya Sangsnit , 
  Hugo Solis, Ashton Sperry, Matthew Stinson, Todd Westcot
  Front Cover: Olaf Olafsson by Hugo Solis (coloring by Liz Courts; 
  background by InertiaK, http://inertiak.deviantart.com)
  Back Cover: Boiltongue by Mauricio Herrera (background by Sirius-
  sdz, http://sirius-sdz.deviantart.com)
  Special Thanks To
  Erik Mona
  Blake Davis
  Jon Brazer Enterprises, Kobold Quarterly/Open Design, Louis Porter, 
  Jr., Purple Duck Games, Raging Swan, Zombie Sky Press, BlackStar 
  Studios, Frog God Games, Rite Publishing, and Super Genius Games
  And thanks to the Paizo staff, and the whole Paizo fan community for 
  their continuing support.
  Editor-in-Chief
  Tim “Timitius” Nightengale
  Art Director
  Liz ‘Lilith” Courts
  Layout and Design
  Liz ‘Lilith” Courts
  Dain “zylphryx” Nielsen
  Editors
  Ryan Costello, Jr.
  Liz Courts
  Paris Crenshaw
  Rich Crotty
  Adam Daigle
  Ashavan Doyon
  Dave Mallon
  Tom McQueen
  Tim Nightengale
  David Schwartz
  Justin Sluder
  Volume No. 6: WiNter 2011 | Not for Sale
  A Pathfinder Fanzine made by Fans for Fans
  CONTENTS
  1  
  Foreword
  2 
  Ice and Darkness
  3 
  Weal or Woe: Ice and Darkness
  5 
  A Cold Reunion
  11 
  The Three Rimes
  15 
  Frostwind Dancer
  16 
  Hero’s Hoard: With My Spear and Magic Helmet
  18 
  Of Chance and Skill: Great Hunt
  21 
  Tallak: Portrait of a Warrior
  23 
  Trenail
  26 
  Hero’s Hoard: Weapons of Legend
  28 
  The Dragon-Blooded
  30 
  Weal or Woe: The Cursed Hoard
  34 
  The Linnorm’s Curse
  37 
  Tales of the Arcane Archeologists
  40 
  Of Chance and Skill: Pillars – A Game for Harrow
  41 
  The Coven Guardians
  42 
  Periglacial Landforms and Hazards
  43 
  Hero’s Hoard: The Sampo
  44 
  In Hell’s Embrace, Part IV
  46 
  Hero’s Hoard: Treasure Fit for a (Linnorm) King
  48 
  Words from Many Roads: Lands of the Linnorm Kings
  49 
  Weal or Woe: Runners and Wreckers
  51 
  Of Chance and Skill: Linnorm Bones
  54 
  Ostog’s Song
  56 
  Hero’s Hoard: Bag of Hungerous Bones
  58 
  Spooks and Other Shady Characters of Kalsgard
  59 
  Hero’s Hoard: False Draupnir
  61 
  Champion of the People
  63 
  Moot, A Folktale
  65 
  Bestiary
  81 
  OGL
  82 
  It’s a Celebration of Pathfinder Classics!
  83 
  A Call for Art!  Show Us Your Best!
  ii
  
  I
  n many ways, the Lands of the Linnorm Kings were the very first 
  elements I ever designed for the Pathfinder world. Years before 
  Paizo launched the Pathfinder Adventure Path line, in the middle 
  of our run on Dragon and Dungeon magazines, I began to 
  tinker with rough ideas for what would become an original 
  campaign setting for my personal fantasy roleplaying 
  campaigns. Up to that point I’d set most of my Dungeons 
  & Dragons campaigns in Gary Gygax’s venerable World 
  of Greyhawk, and while I wanted something different 
  than my traditional gaming turf for my own original 
  creation, I knew that certain aspects of Greyhawk were 
  important to the type of world I wanted to design. 
  In order to “sell” the world to my players, I knew I 
  needed to root elements of my setting to the myths 
  and history of the real world, at least in broad strokes. 
  Being of Norwegian descent and having grown up as a 
  football fan in Minnesota, first and foremost I knew my 
  new setting would have to have vikings.
   
  Greyhawk had its own viking lands, of course, in 
  the form of the various northeastern barbarian kingdoms 
  of the Flanaess. As interesting as these lands were, I 
  never really used them in any of my various Greyhawk 
  campaigns. They had a lot of potential, but they 
  were too distant from the “core” lands to demand 
  a lot of my creative or tabletop attention. I was far 
  more likely to set games around the central city 
  of Greyhawk, the Bandit Kingdoms, or other 
  juicier locales. But what if the viking barbarian 
  lands were the central part of the campaign? 
  At around this point I was freelancing 
  Expedition to the Ruins of Greyhawk for Wizards 
  of the Coast, and I approached that product like 
  it would be the very last official Greyhawk material 
  I would ever write. In order to keep myself sane, I 
  essentially divorced my mind from the campaign 
  setting I loved so much, and began to focus on other 
  things. I kept coming back to the viking homeland idea, 
  and eventually sketched out a rough map and several ideas in 
  a graph-paper notebook. I needed a cool name to frame the region, 
  and came up with the idea of rulers proving themselves worthy of 
  command by slaying mighty Norse dragons. Thus were born the 
  Lands of the Linnorm Kings, years before I’d ever thought of the 
  word Golarion, or even the idea that there would ever be a brand 
  called Pathfinder that demanded a world of its own. I added some 
  notes about a neighboring kingdom ruled by a witch queen and her 
  children (riffing heavily off the White Queen from the Narnia books), 
  and kept working on the idea here and there as the basis for a new 
  campaign I might run at some nebulous time in the future. 
  That campaign never happened, but in a couple of years’ time 
  the magazines were dead and buried and Paizo was off on a new 
  foreword
  the Legend of the 
  Linnorm Kings
  adventure. James Jacobs, Wes Schneider, and James L. Sutter were 
  hard at work fleshing out Varisia (based heavily on one of JJ’s old 
  home campaigns) for the Rise of the Runelords Adventure Path, 
  leaving me and Jason Bulmahn to flesh out the bones of the rest of 
  the world. We held several group brainstorms to decide what types of 
  countries would go into the world, and from the very start I threw the 
  Linnorm Kingdoms into the mix, partly because I wanted to put more 
  work into the semi-abandoned idea, and partly because my purple and 
  gold Minnesotan blood would have revolted had I not used my powers 
  of publisher fiat in this manner. 
  So when it came time to sort brainstorm notes into the Pathfinder 
  Chronicles Gazetteer, the first look at the new campaign world, the 
  Lands of the Linnorm Kings were one of the first locations on the 
  map (that’s probably one reason why they’re so close to Varisia, 
  another early inclusion). I wrote them up for that book, and 
  have watched their development closely in the years since. I 
  even made my favorite Pathfinder character, the barbarian 
  Ostog the Unslain (23 game sessions and still no armor!), 
  from the Linnorm Kingdoms, and I was pleased to 
  recently publish a complete sourcebook based on the 
  kingdoms. Many other hands have contributed to the 
  official Lands of the Linnorm Kings since I created 
  them, but I feel like a proud father when I look at 
  what they have become today.
  Looking over the galley proofs of this issue of 
  Wayfinder brings me a similar sense of pride. Way 
  back in my Greyhawk days, before I ever had an 
  official credit in a professional roleplaying product, I 
  had the honor of editing one of the internet’s original 
  RPG fan publications, the venerable Oerth Journal. A 
  product of early online Greyhawk fandom, the Oerth 
  Journal featured articles on diverse topics related to 
  the World of Greyhawk. I contributed several articles, 
  and edited issues 2 through 7. Visually speaking, these 
  were the days before PDFs, and our offerings were 
  simple text-based affairs. But the passion we shared 
  as we planned, wrote, and edited our issues is the 
  same exhibited here in these pages. The Lands of the 
  Linnorm Kings have come a long way, and internet 
  fan magazines have come a long way, too. 
  It’s been my pleasure to create and publish the 
  original Lands of the Linnorm Kings material, but 
  it’s been even more fun to see what they have become 
  at the talented hands of Paizo’s freelance authors 
  and artists. It’s even more fun to see what you, the 
  Pathfinder fans, have done with my creation, because 
  I understand the passion that goes into a project like 
  Wayfinder. I know what it’s like to put long hours with no 
  pay into a labor of love like this, and I’m humbled to see what my 
  creation has become in your talented hands. Thank you one and all!
  Erik Mona
  Publisher of Paizo Publishing
  erik.mona@paizo.com
  1
  
  P
  C
  ’mon runt,” Bram taunted, blond braids dangling as he leaned 
  over the rocky outcropping Liut was still struggling to climb, 
  “You’re embarrassing me.”
  Scowling, Liut pushed aside his pain and climbed faster. He may 
  have been only eight to his brother’s eleven, but he was just as worthy 
  of becoming a warrior, and 
  he would prove it. Bram 
  had only let him tag along 
  if he swore to keep up, so 
  keep up he would.  With 
  no friends of his own, Liut 
  was always keen to spend 
  time with his brother’s 
  tight-knit circle.
  He hauled himself up 
  and over the ridge with 
  one last effort.  Bram, Oleg 
  and Aerick stood a ways off 
  with their backs to him, 
  peering down a large hole. 
  The frosty ground around 
  the opening was mounded 
  waist-high, 
  as 
  though 
  some 
  huge 
  burrowing 
  creature had left it there when it tunnelled into the frozen ground.
  Curiosity blotting out physical exhaustion, Liut scurried over to the 
  others.  “What’d you think’s down there?” he whispered, trying not 
  to sound winded.
  Aerick shot him a haughty look, “It’s a linnorm hole, stupid.”
  Liut shrank back.  “Is there really a linnorm down there?”
  “Of course not,” Bram laughed, “it’s abandoned... but  you could 
  always go down and see for yourself if you’re curious.”
  “I dunno...” Liut mumbled, biting his lip. “Looks dangerous.”
  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Oleg snorted, “It’s perfectly safe.”
  “What’s the matter?” Aerick jeered, “Are you too much of a baby 
  to-“
  “I’ll do it,” Liut snapped, cutting Aerick off.  
  The boys gaped at him.
  “Really?” Bram asked.
  Not allowing himself time for doubt Liut pushed past the others 
  and threw his legs over the edge of the hole, making his way down the 
  icy, sloped wall with surprising ease.  
  Halfway down, as he threw his head back to send his brother a 
  triumphant smile, he slipped.  He slid down, unable to stop his bumpy 
  descent into the dark unknown.
  He hit the bottom with a tooth-jarring slam.  
  “Liut?” his brother’s distant voice called, his face no more than a 
  dark speck against the tiny spot of sky above. “You okay?”
  “Yeah,” Liut replied, glancing around, “at least there’s nothing 
  down -”
  His words died in his throat as something glinted in the darkness. 
  Two glowing, frost-coloured orbs appeared in the shadows, 
  accompanied by a low growl.  
  “H-Hello?”
  The creature’s huge maw opened with a dangerous purr, revealing 
  sharp white fangs.  Ulfen child, why do you disturb my domain? its 
  hissing voice demanded inside Liut’s head.
  “I slipped,” he replied, refusing to show fear as the linnorm slithered 
  into the light.  He frowned.  It seemed smaller and somehow less...
  snakelike than he’d imagined.  And why hadn’t any of the tales 
  mentioned that linnorms had wings?
  I can see that, and I should kill you for intruding.  However, I have 
  never enjoyed killing wyrmlings.  Instead, I will offer you a bargain, 
  young one.
  Liut threw back his shoulders. “I’m not young. I’m almost nine.”
  The creature made an odd chuffing noise that sounded like a 
  chuckle.  Very young.  Now will you take my bargain or not?
  “What would I have to agree to?” Liut asked warily.
  It is simple.  You will agree to be my servant, and in return I shall raise 
  you as my champion.
  Liut’s heart leapt. To finally be a true warrior, no longer mocked 
  for his weakness but feared for his strength?  He didn’t hesitate.  “I’ll 
  do it.”
  Not even a thought for your family?  Your tribe?
  Liut laughed bitterly, thinking of the disappointment in his parents’ 
  eyes every time they looked at him. “They’ve got my perfect brother, 
  they won’t miss me.”
  Very well then.  So be it.
  “Brother?” Bram’s voice intruded, “You still okay?  Aerick’s getting 
  a rope.”
  Before Liut could reply, the dragon pushed past him, icy scales 
  scraping his face. No goodbyes, it said, barreling up the tunnel with a 
  deafening roar.
  The boys screamed as the linnorm broke the surface. In the ringing 
  silence that followed, Liut 
  heard the frantic rustling 
  of their retreat.  
  Satisfied, the creature 
  returned to Liut. I am 
  called Iceheart, it said 
  with the faintest of toothy 
  smiles.
  “I’m Liut,” the boy 
  offered.
  A fine name for a 
  champion. 
   
  Iceheart 
  grinned.  I will make you 
  more powerful than your 
  wildest dreams, young one... 
  Now come, we must leave 
  this place before your foolish 
  kin return.
  The 
  dragon 
  moved 
  further into the tunnel and 
  Liut followed, entering into his new life without a thought spared for 
  the one he was leaving behind.  B
  iCe and darKness
  by Kalyna “LightSprite” Conrad
  Art by Frank Hessefort
  2
  
  P
  3
   
  WEAL: BRAM SEGISMUNSSON
  The eldest son of Jol’s best blacksmith and armorer, Bram was born 
  strong and handsome. By age ten his skill at arms was unmatched in 
  his village and it was widely believed that he would become one of the 
  next great Linnorm Kings.  
  At the age of eleven, he suffered a cruel tragedy when his beloved 
  younger brother Liut was stolen by what Bram’s young mind took to 
  be a linnorm. He blames himself for his brother’s disappearance and 
  spends his time collecting adventurers willing to work for a 
  share of linnorm treasure. Once he amasses a party, he 
  leads these brave souls deep into the Grungir forest 
  in search of his brother. Legends say he killed many 
  linnorms, wearing a tooth from each around his 
  neck as a trophy, but since he has never returned 
  with a head it is impossible to prove.
  Blond haired and blue eyed with a tall, 
  muscular physique and honey-tinted 
  skin, Bram is open, friendly, and 
  boastful while recruiting. Once out 
  in the wilds however, he becomes 
  harsh; demanding only the highest 
  standard of excellence from any 
  party he leads—even if he may not 
  always live up to that same standard. 
  Though he favors his axe, named for his 
  lost brother, he is equally skilled with any 
  weapon. He typically refuses to fight other 
  humans, but gladly trounces anyone who 
  speaks ill of his brother.
  Bram also has a bit of a secret. While 
  tales of his prowess as a monster hunter 
  are embellished, spread far and wide by 
  everyone he meets, he has never actually 
  encountered a linnorm, nor does he even 
  know what one truly looks like. Most of 
  the fangs hanging from his necklace come 
  from lesser monsters—remorhazes, ice 
  drakes, yetis and similar beasts.
  Hooks:
  • Bram recruits the PCs to 
  aid on his latest monster hunt, 
  but finds he has bitten off 
  more than he can chew, and 
  leaves them to their fate.
  • The PCs hear Bram disappeared on his latest trek, and the locals 
  beseech the party to find the missing legendary warrior.
  • The heroes hunt a deadly monster and seek Bram out for help, 
  little realizing his skills do not quite match his reputation and bravado.
  Bram SeGiSmuNNSoN  
                                       Cr 8
  Male human fighter 9
  NG Medium  humanoid (human)
  Init +1; Senses Perception -1
  DEFENSE 
  AC 24, touch 12, flat-footed 22; (armor +9, Dex +1, dodge +1, 
  shield+3)
  hp 90 (9d10+36)
  Fort +8 Ref +4, Will +2
  Defensive Abilities bravery +2
  OFFENSE
  Speed 30 ft.
  Melee Liut’s Vengeance +15/+10 (1d8+15, 19-20/x3)
  Ranged mwk composite longbow +11/+6 (1d8+5, x3)
  Special Attacks weapon training (axes) +2, weapon training 
  (bows) +1
  TACTICS
  During Combat Bram is a straightforward attacker, advancing 
  to melee and using his favorite axe. Bram uses Power Attack 
  (included). 
  Morale If an opponent overpowers Bram or he is reduced below 
  half hit points, he considers fleeing, leaving his newfound 
  party to the fate of the monster. 
  Base Statistics When not using Power attack, 
  Bram’s attacks are as follows: +18/+13 
  (1d8+9).
  STATISTICS
  Str 19, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 8, Cha 
  12
  Base Atk +9; CMB +13; CMD 24
  Feats Diehard, Dodge, Endurance, Greater 
  Weapon Focus (battleaxe), Improved 
  Critical (battleaxe), Power Attack, Shield 
  Focus, Toughness, Vital Strike, Weapon 
  Focus (battleaxe), Weapon Specialization 
  (battleaxe)
  Skills Intimidate +13, Ride +7, Swim +4 
  (+16 unarmored)
  Languages Common, Ulfen
  SQ armor training 2 
  Combat Gear Liut’s Vengeance 
  (+1 dragon bane battleaxe), heavy 
  steel shield, full plate, masterwork 
  composite longbow (+4 Str), 
  arrows (20); Other Gear fur 
  cloak (10 gp), ivory drinking horn 
  (300 gp), necklace of monster 
  fangs (25 gp)
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Boon Associating with Bram 
  grants players a +2 on 
  Knowledge checks to identify 
  monsters, as they are exposed 
  more and more tales of his 
  expertise as a monster slayer—
  weaL or woe:
  iCe and darKness
  by Eric “Boxhead” Hindley and
  Kalyna “LightSprite” Conrad
  Art by Frank Hessefort
  
  4
  not so much from Bram himself, but from the endless parade 
  of people sucking up to his celebrity.
   
  WOE: LIUT ICEFANG 
  Weak and frail as a child, Liut always felt like an outsider. He felt 
  like a disappointment to his parents and his tribe, and yearned to be 
  lauded as a strong warrior, just like his perfect older brother, Bram – 
  though there was little chance of that, given his physical limitations.
  His desperate envy of his older brother’s strength and charm left 
  him open to less than honorable means of achieving his goals. At the 
  tender age of eight, his life changed forever when he agreed to turn his 
  back on his people and enter into the service of a creature he thought 
  to be a linnorm named Iceheart. The beast in question was in fact 
  a white dragon who, sensing a moral flexibility and latent sorcerous 
  potential in the young Ulfen, took him under his wing to train as his 
  personal champion.
  Dark haired and dark eyed, Liut’s 
  frosty skin and wiry frame hide a 
  supernatural strength. He wields 
  his blade, Icefang, with the lethal 
  precision of a highly-trained warrior. 
  Growing up in the Grungir forest 
  with his patron, Liut displays a 
  savage ferocity in all his actions 
  after years of surviving in the wild. 
  He doesn’t care for the company 
  of other humans, venturing into 
  towns infrequently and only on 
  orders from his master.
  Liut is unaware of his natural 
  magic. The dragon has hidden 
  the truth from him in an attempt 
  to control him.  He casts spells— or 
  ‘prayers’, as he knows them— without 
  truly understanding what he’s doing. As 
  a child he consumed some of Iceheart’s 
  blood and has recently started showing 
  draconic traits, which he hides out of 
  fear of Iceheart’s reaction.
  He is brave to a fault and still 
  believes he has much to prove, in 
  spite of his many conquests. Liut 
  will always fight first and talk 
  later, never backing down from 
  a challenge unless Iceheart 
  specifically 
  commands 
  it. While bound to 
  fight only on orders 
  from ( or in defense 
  of) his master, once 
  engaged he will fight to the death. Generally his 
  foe’s death.
  Though very few people who encounter Liut live to tell the tale, 
  there are still many legends and much speculation about the dark, 
  mysterious and deadly stranger.
  Hooks:
  • The PCs seek the lair of a local monster with Bram and come 
  across Iceheart’s territory, forcing Bram to confront what his brother 
  has become.
  • Liut has been haranguing a local village on Iceheart’s behalf, 
  forcibly collecting tribute from them. The village hires the PCs to 
  drive off the dragon-fuelled warrior.
  • A true linnorm threatens Iceheart’s lair, a beast so ferocious the 
  dragon doubts Liut’s abilities to defeat it alone. Iceheart recruits the 
  PCs to help Liut fend off the monster.
  liut iCefaNG                                        Cr 9
  Male human barbarian (totem warrior) 6/sorcerer 1/ dragon 
  disciple 3
  NE Medium humanoid (human)
  Init +6; Senses Perception +12
  DEFENSE
  AC 23, touch 17, flat-footed 21 (armor +6, deflection +1, Dex +2 
  , natural +2, rage -2, shield +4)
  hp  106 (9d12+1d6+40)
  Fort +10 Ref +7, Will +7; +1 against fear, paralysis, sleep
  Defensive Abilities improved uncanny dodge, trap sense +2, 
  uncanny dodge; Resist cold 5
  OFFENSE
  Speed 40 ft.
  Melee Icefang +14/+9 (2d6+7/19-20) and bite +7 (1d4+2)
  Special Attacks breath weapon (30-foot cone, 4d6 cold, DC 13), 
  rage (16 rounds/day), rage powers (animal fury, dragon totem 
  [white], intimidating glare)
  Sorcerer Spells Known (CL 3rd, concentration +4)
  1st--(6/day) endure elements, mage armor, shield, true 
  strike
  O-- detect magic, light, prestidigitation, resistance
  TACTICS
  Before Combat Luit casts shield if aware of impending 
  combat.
  During Combat Liut opens combat using intimidating 
  glare. He fights with his greatsword and uses animal 
  fury to add a savage bite attack. He manifests his 
  claws and improved bite only if disarmed. If the 
  opportunity arises, he uses true strike and then 
  makes an attack using Power Attack.
  Morale Liut is a fanatic and fights to the death. 
  Base Statistics Without shield and rage, Liut’s 
  statistics are: Str 16, Con 14, Will +5, AC 21, 
  perception +11
  STATISTICS
  Str 18, Dex 15, Con 16, Int 10, Wis 8, Cha 12
  Base Atk +8, CMB +12; CMD 24
  Feats Arcane Armor Training, Combat Casting, 
  Eschew Materials, Improved Initiative, Lightning 
  Reflexes, Power Attack, Toughness, Weapon 
  Focus (greatsword)
  Skills Knowledge (arcana) +11, 
  Intimidate +13, Linguistics +1, 
  Perception +12, Ride +11, Swim +13
  Languages Common, Draconic, Ulfen
  SQ blood of dragons, bloodline (draconic [white]), fast movement
  Combat Gear Icefang (+1 adamantine greatsword), +2 mithral 
  chain shirt, potion of cure light wounds (2), ring of protection 
  +1; Other Gear  fur cloak (10 gp), leather necklace with a 
  single dragon’s fang (100 gp)
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Drawback Drawing Liut’s attention (and generally that of his 
  patron dragon) causes the party no end of trouble as the 
  dragon jealously defends his territory, marking the party for 
  torment and extermination.  B 
  
  P
  5
   
  ADVENTURE BACKGROUND
  Long ago, the envy between two brothers led a young boy named 
  Liut to forsake his kinsmen and swear fealty to a dragon named 
  Iceheart. After many seasons, and much indoctrination from Iceheart, 
  Liut raided his former village to procure slaves for his master.
  During the raid, the town’s hero, and frequent drunk, Bram 
  Segismunsson stood frozen in drunken stupor as he witnessed his 
  estranged brother’s return and subsequent betrayal. The shock of the 
  event caused Bram to pass out. When he awoke, Bram hastily tracked 
  his brother to a glacier called Icehome. Before delving into the glacier’s 
  frigid walls he sent a message back to his village. Without another 
  thought he pursued his brother.
  ADVENTURE SUMMARY
  The adventure opens with the PCs stumbling upon the seemingly 
  abandoned village of Winter’s Breath. As the PCs investigate, a 
  group of weary Ulfen emerges from a barricaded central hall. 
  Their leader, Asta the Sheppard, beseeches the PCs to travel to 
  a glacier called Icehome where several of her people are held 
  against their will. Asta continues that just over a week ago their 
  local hero, Bram Segidmunsson, went to liberate her kin, but he 
  failed to return.
  Arriving at Icehome, the PCs discover a sacred frost giant 
  necropolis entombed within the ice. Here, Asta’s people toil to 
  unearth this frozen crypt. An adult dragon named Iceheart and his 
  prodigy, a human named Liut, oversee the slaves’ excavations. From 
  there, the PCs have the opportunity to explore an ancient necropolis, 
  infiltrate its icy rubble, and emancipate Asta’s people. 
  ICEHOME
  The temperatures within Icehome fall well below freezing. 
  Treat the entire mapped area as severe cold weather (below 0 
  degrees Fahrenheit; see the Pathfinder Core Rule Rulebook 
  pg. 442). Icehome has several torch sconces that if lit, cast the 
  necropolis at the dim level of light. Unless stated otherwise, the 
  walls are sheer ice (hardness 0 and 3 hit points per inch of thickness) 
  and the ceilings stretch to a towering 65-feet.
  To set the scene, read or paraphrase the following:
  A great crevasse tears into a massive ice wall granting passage into 
  the glacier known as Icehome. Within the glacial rift, a massive 
  rime-covered statue depicts a snarling frost giant guarding a fallen 
  commrade. Wrapping around the statue’s base, a strange script coils 
  in an eerie serpentine pattern. Ahead, a colossal staircase provides 
  an entrance to a grand structure beyond.
  A DC 15 Knowledge (religion) check identifies the statue as having 
  religious significance, but to whom is unclear. The staircase has five 
  massive steps that each rise 5-ft. to a total of a 25-foot rise to the 
  chamber beyond. Due to the stairs’ icy nature they require a DC 10 
  Climb check to successfully scale. Any PC who can read Giant, make 
  a DC 25 Linguistics check, or cast comprehend languages can decipher 
  the script coiling around the statue’s base. It reads, “Great Jarls, return 
  upon your death to Icehome”.     
  1. Gallery of the Dead (CR 10) 
  A macabre gallery displays several long-dead frost giants sheathed 
  in ice. Each ice-caked corpse strikes an eternal, menacing pose. 
  Varied levels of decay mar the organic statues from near perfect 
  preservation to complete hoarfrost covered skeletons. At the 
  chamber’s far end, a roar of rushing water reverberates off the 
  crystalline walls pouring a wisp of fog that nestles the floor in an 
  ethereal blanket.
  Nineteen organic statues decorate this gallery in varied states of 
  decay. An unseen waterfall causes fog to flow into this chamber at a 
  height of 2 ft. 
  Creatures: Four of the more hoarfrost-covered specimens (marked 
  with an “x”) are in fact skeletons referred to as “the fallen”. Originally 
  placed here to deter trespassers, these ancient dead attack anyone 
  not openly displaying a blasphemous symbol to the demon lord 
  Kostchtchie.
  tHe falleN (4) 
                                        Cr 6
  XP 2,400 eaCH
  frost giant skeletons
  NE Large undead (cold)
  Init +4; Senses low-light 
  vision; Perception +10
  a CoLd reUnion
  by Larry “Larcifer” Wilhelm
  Art by Tanya Sangsnit
  Silvia Gonzalez
  Map by Liz Courts
  
  6
  DEFENSE
  AC 15, touch 9, flat-footed 15 (+4 armor, +2 natural, -1 size)
  hp 63 each (14d8) 
  Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +9
  Defensive Abilities DR 5/bludgeoning; Immune cold, undead 
  traits
  Weaknesses vulnerability to fire
  OFFENSE
  Speed 40 ft.
  Melee greataxe +18/+13 (3d6+13), or 2 slams +18 (1d8+9), or 2 
  claws +18 (1d6+9) 
  Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft.
  TACTICS
  Before Combat The fallen remain perfectly still hoping to lure 
  their targets into melee combat. A DC 20 Perception check 
  allows any PC to notice a twitch of unnatural movement and act 
  in the surprise round.
  During Combat The fallen mindlessly attack their nearest target; 
  however, if their target enters area 2, they do not pursue them.
  Morale The fallen fight until destroyed.
  STATISTICS
  Str 29, Dex 11, Con —, Int —, Wis 10, Cha 10
  Base Atk +10; CMB +20; CMD 30
  Feats Improved Initiative
  Languages Common, Giant
  Gear chain shirt, greataxe
  2. The Frozen Flow 
  A massive waterfall roars into a thick river of slush. Several large 
  chunks of ice bob within the frigid underground river offering a 
  precarious path into the glacier. A freezing mist reduces vision to 30 
  feet in all directions.
  To the west, a raging waterfall feeds this underground flow. Partly 
  frozen, the waterfall rises 250 feet to a series of channels where the 
  midday sun melts the outer aspects of the glacier causing the water to 
  fill this subterranean stream. The calm waters reach a depth of 10 ft. 
  Any PC who enters the flow takes 3d6 points of cold damage for every 
  round they remain within its chilly waters (A DC 20 Fort save halves 
  this damage).
  Several crude chunks of ice float a top this flow offering a hazardous 
  path to the yawning eastern expanse. A DC 15 Jump check allows 
  the PCs to move from icy platform to icy platform; see ice effects 
  (Pathfinder Core Rule Rulebook pg. 442). If a PC fails their Jump check, 
  they must make a DC 20 Reflex save or splash into the icy water. PCs 
  within the water must make a DC 10 Climb check to scramble onto 
  an icy platform.
  3. Ancient Effigies (CR 10)
  As the mist clears, six titanic statues carved out of the glacier’s 
  interior loom over the river in silent reverence.  Three frosty effigies 
  adorn the north shore and three stand on the opposite shore, facing 
  their eternal brothers.  Each effigy depicts a unique, regal figure.
  The six carved statues stretch up the wall to a neck-straining 150 
  feet. Obviously depicting jarls of some importance, their identities 
  remain a mystery lost to the passing of several centuries.
  Traps: Each statue wields a massive, wicked looking warhammer, 
  Player map
  
  7
  and when any PC passes under their eternal vigil, the statue’s arm 
  slams down with a murderous thud.
  titaNiC WarHammer traP (6)                                                 Cr 5
  Type mechanical; Perception DC 30; Disable Device DC 30
  EFFECTS
  Trigger location (see area marked on map); Reset automatic (1 
  hour)
  Effect Atk +20 melee vs. a single target within the trap’s area of 
  effect (2d4+6/x4)
  4. Iceheart’s Lair (CR 11)
  A great longship struggles against the creeping frost that threatens 
  to entomb it forever. Half encased in ice, and half exposed to the 
  elements, this longship rests in a dual state of preservation and 
  decay. 
  A tarnished nameplate adorns the stern of this oversized ship; it reads 
  in Giant, “Ice-Reaver”. A DC 15 Knowledge (history) or Knowledge 
  (local) check recalls a legend of a terrible frost giant named Leena who 
  raided the northern coastline along the Broken Bay. Encased in ice and 
  splendidly preserved, sits the ship’s figurehead—a buxom maiden with 
  pale blue skin who stares dispassionately into the ice before her.
  Creatures: Using the massive ship as his lair, Iceheart lies within its 
  hold, resting a top his ever-growing hoard.
  Treasure: All of Bram Sigismunnson’s gear is located here (see pg. 
  3). Furthermore, piled in various denominations and mints are coins 
  worth 4,500 gp., one large masterwork silver shield with a raging 
  giant’s face etched on its front worth 550 gp, 4 aquamarines (worth 
  500 gp each), and a 20-foot tall gilded picture frame depicting giants 
  battling a great white dragon wrapped all around (worth 700 gp). 
  iCeHeart 
                                       Cr 11
  XP 12,800
  Rime-coated adult white dragon (Pathfinder RPG Bestiary 100, 
  Wayfinder 6 9)
  hp 175; see pg. 9 
  5. Kostchtchie’s Altar 
  A blasphemous statue of an immense, deformed frost giant with 
  twisted legs, tiny eyes, and a thick, matted beard leers into an 
  outstretched hand. The hand, massive enough to hold an ox within 
  its cupped palm, is stained with several reddish-brown splotches 
  that resemble a stylized “K”. A great ice-caked warhammer occupies 
  his other hand, its mammoth head cresting the slushy waters as its 
  bulk lies submerged along with the lower aspects of his massive legs.
  A DC 15 Knowledge (religion) check identifies the statue as a 
  representation of the demon lord Kostchtchie—the Deathless Frost. 
  Furthermore, a DC 25 Knowledge (religion) check identifies the 
  purpose of this terrible altar. In its glory days, worshipers of Kostchtchie 
  would show their daily obedience to their cold lord and receive his 
  abyssal boons. 
  The dorsal aspect of this statue-altar is secured within the glacier, 
  and a DC 15 Perception check allows the PCs to notice several outlines 
  and shadows of other structures well beyond the milky ice curtain. 
  Several giant-sized dwellings rest deeper within the glacier entombed 
  within its icy prison.
  GM map
  
  8
  Treasure: AC DC 15 Perception check notices a faint blue sparkling 
  from the altar’s eyes. Fixed within the sunken hollows rest 2 blue 
  sapphires worth 1,000 gp each.    
  6. Piercing the Necropolis
  Along the southern shore of the ice floe, several large chunks of 
  excavated ice and snow float around a newly created opening. Beyond 
  the opening, another set of colossal stairs rises into an ancient ruined 
  city. Like before, a DC 10 Climb check is needed to clamber these icy, 
  oversized stairs.
  7. Slave Pens
  Creatures: Twenty exhausted humans huddle pathetically around 
  makeshift shelters and meager fires that struggle to burn. These 
  desperate folk eagerly beg the PCs for their salvation. If the PCs agree 
  to help, the slaves tell them about Liut (area 8) the strange cold aura 
  (area 9), and the cyclopean doors (area 10). If asked why they have 
  not attempted to escape, they simply state, “Where would 
  we go? Without fire we would succumb to 
  exposure.”
  Story Award: If the PCs return Asta’s 
  flock back to Winter’s Breath, reward 
  them as if they defeated a CR 8 creature.
  8. Ice Tower (CR 9)
  A great ice-encased tower casts 
  a shadow over the ancient ruins 
  below. A sole staircase provides 
  access into the spire’s interior. A 
  bas-relief depicts a scene of pillage 
  that sprawls along the tower’s outer 
  walls.
  Once the PCs enter the tower, read 
  the following:
  A hearth casts this chamber in a warm, 
  red glow. Plush carpets, soft furs, and 
  an immense four-poster bed fill this 
  otherwise empty room.
  Creatures: Liut torments his 
  wounded brother Bram who he 
  has strapped to the bed. Liut prepares Bram 
  for an offering to the altar in area 5. If the PCs stealthily enter the 
  spire, allow Liut a Perception check to notice their approach. However, 
  Liut suffers a -5 penalty on his Perception check due to his enraptured 
  state. As the PCs engage Liut, Bram begs them to spare his brother.  
  Bram SeGiSmuNNSoN 
                                       Cr 8
  XP 4,800
  hp 90 (currently 0 staggerd); see pg.3
  liut iCefaNG         
                                       Cr 9
  XP 6,400
  hp 106; see pg. 4
  Treasure: Liut’s gear (see pg. 4).
  Story Award: If the PCs save Bram, reward them as if they defeated 
  a CR 8 creature.
  9. Abandoned Excavation Site (CR 8)
  An abandoned, frost-covered worksite emits an eerie chill. The 
  slaves avoid this area with abject terror claiming the site is haunted 
  due to a deadly drop in temperature and unexplained deaths. Rather 
  than exhaust his supply of slaves, Liut moved the excavation to the 
  south, where he successfully exhumed the cyclopean doors (area 10). 
  Creatures: Two glacier toads protect their nest, which sits on an ice 
  shelf some 10-ft. above the ground (located with a DC 20 Perception 
  check). Several nooks and notches allow the toads to jump to their 
  nest with ease. A DC 15 Climb check allows a PC to reach the shelf. 
  Several natural chutes provide underwater access to area 2 where the 
  toads feast on fish and aquatic vegetation. However, the toads have 
  developed a taste for human flesh with the arrival of the slaves.
  GlaCier toaD (2)  
                                        Cr 6
  XP 2,400
  hp 73 each (Pathfinder RPG Bestiary 2 268)
  TACTICS
  During Combat The toads rely on 
  their bitter cold aura to subtly kill 
  their prey, but once discovered, they 
  swallow a victim and jump to their lair 
  to digest their meal.
  Morale The toads fight until reduced 
  below 20 hitpoints. At this time, they 
  flee into the chutes that lead to area 
  2.
  10. Cyclopean Doors
  Two enormous statues depicting 
  frost giant women carved from blue 
  chalcedony flank an impressive 40-ft. 
  wide by 60-ft. tall double door. The 
  doors themselves are two impressive 
  slabs of soap stone that showcase a 
  haunting carving of a frost giant jarl 
  sailing into his afterlife.
  Strangely, these doors lead to 
  nowhere. The space beyond 
  them is clearly visible and fully 
  excavated. A DC 25 Knowledge (arcana) or 
  Knowledge (planes) check recognizes these doors as a portal to some 
  unknown, distant location. How to open the doors, or even activate 
  the portal, is either lost forever or buried under miles of ice.
  Treasure: While enormous, the two statues are worth only 500 gp 
  each.
  CONCLUSION
  With Iceheart and Liut defeated, the PCs can return the abducted 
  villagers back to Winter’s Breath. What the PCs do with Icehome 
  is up to them. Feel free to use this site as a series of exploration 
  adventures or an ongoing campaign. Several exploits await the PCs. 
  What becomes of Bram and Liut? How much of the necropolis still 
  lies embedded in the ice? Where do the cyclopean doors lead? And, 
  what revenge waits the village of Winter’s Breath when the frost giants 
  learn of the trespass upon their sacred necropolis? 
  
  9
  Rime-Coated Creature
  Rime-coated creatures hail from the cold regions of northern 
  Avistan. From the gelid waters of the Iceflow to the frozen tundra 
  of the Thunder Steppes, Rime-coated creatures thrive in the lands 
  of ice and snow. Rime-coated creatures embrace their frosty natures 
  and create a physical barrier between their icy hearts and the outside 
  world. Masters of biting chills and numbing cold, these ice-entombed 
  denizens wreak havoc upon their winter wastelands.
  Creating A Rime-Coated Creature
  “Rime-coated creature” is an inherited template that can be added 
  to any living or undead corporeal creature (referred to hereafter as the 
  base creature) with the air, water, or cold subtype, as long as it does 
  not have the fire subtype.
  A rime-coated creature uses all the base creature’s statistics and 
  special abilities except as noted here.
  CR: Same as base creature +1
  Size and Type: Size and type are unchanged, but the creature gains 
  the cold subtype if the base creature did not already have it.
  Speed: 
  For 
  each 
  movement type the 
  base creature possesses 
  (except flight), decrease 
  the speed by 10 feet 
  (minimum 10 feet). If 
  the base creature has 
  a fly speed, reduce it 
  by half and decrease 
  the 
  maneuverability 
  by 1 step (e.g. from 
  perfect to good, good 
  to average, and so on).
  Armor Class: The 
  rime-coated 
  creature 
  is covered in a sheet 
  of white, milky ice 
  that freezes to the 
  outer surfaces of the 
  rime-coated creature’s 
  exterior. 
  This 
  icy 
  barrier improves the 
  creature’s 
  natural 
  armor class by +2 
  over that of the base 
  creature.   
  Special Qualities: 
  The rime-coated creature retains all the base creature’s special qualities 
  and gains those described here.
  Icewalking (Ex): This ability works like spider climb, but the 
  surfaces the rime-covered creature climbs must be icy. It can move 
  across icy surfaces without penalty and does not need to make 
  Acrobatics checks to run or charge on ice. 
  Meld into Ice (Su): This ability works like meld into stone, but the 
  surfaces the rime-coated creature melds into must be ice or snow. 
  This ability can be used for a number of minutes per day equal to 
  its Constitution modifier (for creatures with the undead type, use its 
  Charisma modifier instead). 
  Abilities: Change from the base creature as follows: Dex -2 
  (minimum 1), Con +4.
  Environment: Any cold.
  Sample Rime-Coated Creature
  iCeHeart                                                                      Cr 11
  XP 12,800
  Rime-coated adult white dragon (Pathfinder Roleplaying Game: 
  Bestiary 100, Wayfinder 6 9)
  CE Large dragon (cold)
  Init +4; Senses dragon senses, snow vision; Perception +22
  Aura cold (5 ft., 1d6 cold damage), frightful presence (180 ft., 
  DC 17)
  DEFENSE
  AC 28, touch 10, flat-footed 28 (+19 natural, -1 size)
  hp 175 (13d12+91) 
  Fort +15, Ref +8, Will +10
  DR 5/magic; Immune cold, paralysis, sleep; SR 21
  Weaknesses vulnerability to fire
  OFFENSE
  Speed 20 ft., burrow 20 ft., fly 100 ft. (clumsy), swim 30 ft.
  Melee bite +20 (2d6+10/19-20) 2 claws +19 (1d8+7), 2 wings 
  +14 (1d6+3, tail slap +14 (1d8+10)
  Space 10 ft.; Reach 
  5 ft. (10 ft. with bite)
  Special Attacks 
  breath weapon (40-
  ft. cone, DC 21, 12d4 
  cold)
  Spell-Like Abilities 
  (CL 13th)
  At will—fog cloud, 
  gust of wind
  Spells Known (CL 
  1st)
  1st (4/day)—shield, 
  true strike
  0 (at will) dancing 
  lights, detect magic, 
  ray of frost, mending
  TACTICS
  During Combat 
  Iceheart is cunning 
  and prefers to fight 
  from a distance 
  before engaging in 
  melee combat. If 
  anyone wields fire, 
  he becomes enraged 
  and focuses his 
  assault on the flame wielder.
  Morale Iceheart fights until reduced below 25 hit points, he then 
  attempts to flee and fight another day.
  STATISTICS
  Str 25, Dex 10, Con 25, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 12
  Base Atk +13; CMB +21; CMD 31 (35 vs. trip)
  Feats Alertness, Flyby Attack, Improved Critical (bite), Improved 
  Initiative, Power Attack, Vital Strike, Weapon Focus (bite)
  Skills Fly +10, Intimidate +17, Knowledge (arcane) +17, 
  Perception +22, Spellcraft +17, Stealth +12, Swim +31
  Languages Common, Draconic
  SQ icewalking, ice shape, meld into ice (7 minutes/day)
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Meld into Ice B
  
  10
  Open Design and Midgard are trademarks of Open Design LLC. Pathfinder and associated  
  marks and logos are trademarks of Paizo Publishing, LLC, and are used under license.  
  See paizo.com/pathfinderRPG for more information on the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game.
  Choose Your Ammo At koboldquArterlY.Com!
  Divine Favor Series
  Clerics, Druids, Paladins, Inquisitor or 
  Oracle? If you’re on a mission from the 
  gods, you’ll want these new spells, domains, 
  archetypes, feats and more! PdF $3.99 eACh
  Journeys to The West
  Set sail for adventure and design lost 
  civilizations, mysterious islands, epic 
  leviathans of the deep, and priceless 
  treasures! PAtronAge stArts At $24.95
  Wasted West Guide
  Adventure in a twisted land of haunted giants 
  and shambling gods! 20 pages of new spells, 
  traits, gear, and an overview of Midgard’s 
  Wasted West with full-color art.  PdF $4.99
  Seven Cities Guide
  Explore a realm of constant war! 20 pages 
  of new spells, traits, gear, and an overview 
  of Midgard’s Seven Cities region with full-
  color art.  PdF $4.99
  Book of Drakes
  Put the dragons back in your dungeons! 
  Draconic foes for PCs of all levels including 
  the crag drake, pact drake and gear drake.  
  Print $19.99 / PdF $6.99
  Dark Deeds in Freeport
  New Pathfinder adventures set in Green Ronin’s 
  city of Freeport, a haven for pirates, cutthroats 
  and adventurers where ancient horrors lurk in 
  the shadows. Print $19.99 / PdF $9.99
  The kobold Guide to  
  Board Game Design
  15 of the world’s most talented and experienced 
  board game designers share their secrets. Learn 
  all about storyboarding, balancing, prototyping 
  and more! Print $19.99 / PdF $9.99
  Complete Advanced Feats
  180 feats, 18 builds, and advice on playing 
  the six new Pathfinder RPG classes: alchemist, 
  cavalier, inquisitor, oracle, summoner, and 
  witch. Print $19.95 / PdF $9.95
  kobold quArterlY  
  1-Year Subscription
  Four issues of the award-winning roleplaying 
  magazine, packed with ideas and inspiration 
  for players and DMs alike.  PdF $15.99 / 
  Print $38.99 (includes shipping to U.S.)
  kobold Publishing
  settings
  sourCebooks & Adventures
  Y
  ou can always count on Open Design’s RPG products to 
  hit the Pathfinder  bullseye. We bring together seasoned 
  industry legends, the hottest new talent in games, and the 
  Open Design community to make innovative and exciting 
  adventures and sourcebooks for the Pathfinder Roleplaying 
  Game, and other great RPGs. 
  Because you should have the Best games in the world!
  high-CAliber 
  gAming
  TM
  
  P
  11
   
  T
  his is a tale of the far north and the heart of winter, a tale of 
  frost fairs and fairy feasts, a tale of bards and boons. It is a tale 
  of three rimes: the rime of hoarfrost that forms like fur in the 
  Lands of the Linnorm Kings; the rimes of a bard, the magic meters 
  and cunning kennings of a skilled skald; and the Rimeflow itself, the 
  river that runs through the winter wastes and wends its way through 
  one hundred wondrous tales.
  The First Rime
  When the Rimeflow freezes over,
  Water hard and clear as diamonds,
  By the banks of Kalsgard’s towers,
  Then’s the time for toasted almonds,
  Mulling mead and making merry–
  Crystalhue, the Feast of Shelyn,
  Fairer than the fairest fairy,
  Goodly goddess, friend of all men.
  Scip-Hadni was a bard of the north, 
  a rimesinger of the Varni people, the 
  reindeer-herding nomads who wander the 
  northernmost wastes.
  He had brought his reindeer sleigh 
  and his chanting drum, his embroidered 
  jacket and tasseled cap, a fine singing 
  voice and the rune-poems of his people. 
  He crossed the Rimeflow at Iceferry, 
  fording the fjord where the famed ferry 
  lay mired in ice, switched his snowshoes 
  for skates of rune-scrimshawed walrus 
  bone, and wended his way eastward.
  Great was his wonder and delight upon 
  reaching Kalsgard, capital of the Lands of the 
  Linnorm Kings, for the folk of the city had spilled 
  out onto the ice, fashioning a marvelous mirror of the spires above, 
  a festival city filled with fairy palaces, meadhalls made of marble-
  mocking hoarfrost, and even a lithesome linnorm sculpted from 
  sparkling snow.
  Blocks of ice had been set out as benches, warm furs laid over them 
  so visitors could sit. Nutmongers wearing squirrelskin tippets sold 
  sugared almonds and roasted chestnuts, and the air was honeyed with 
  the steam from cauldrons of hot-mulled mead and the exotic scent of 
  Shelyn’s sweetcakes, spiced with saffron from the south.
  Scip-Hadni savored it and sang poems praising these winter 
  wonders.
  Most wondrous of all was the aquarium. Fishing holes had been 
  cut in the ice and fat carp were pulled up through them and tossed 
  into the tank. Wicked pike, their jaws filled with countless needles, 
  prowled behind the glass, eying one and all behind panes held fast by 
  dwarf-forged iron bars and frost-rimed rivets. Even a sturgeon sat at 
  the bottom, the ancient fish reserved for royals. This one would grace 
  the high king’s table.
  Loveliest of all, however, was a single golden carp. She swam in 
  the center, far from the iron-bound edges. Carpmongers netted her 
  simpler brethren, tossing them into tubs which the townsfolk would 
  take back to the city to fatten them up for Crystalhue’s final feast. 
  Scip-Hadni liked her best, with her shining scales like a maiden’s 
  golden hair and her wild eyes like a frightened reindeer doe.
  That said, carp cannot pay for praise poems, nor do Ulfen warriors 
  pay for their women to be compared to fish. Scip-Hadni sang other 
  songs, likening the Ulfen maids to she-bears and falcons, she-wolves 
  and dolphins, silver vixens and clever ermines resplendent in their 
  white winter coats. Hacksilver bracelets rained down around his feet. 
  Some went in his pack, others to pay for meals and mead.
  Scip-Hadni sipped his drink, raising a toast to the golden carp, and 
  tossed her the crumbs of a saffron bun, for she had brought him luck.
  A carpmonger stepped forward. “You sing praise songs well, Varni 
  man.” His hood was trimmed with white leveret, the fur of the 
  snowshoe hare, and he ducked his head lower, adding softly, “Can 
  you also sing dirges?”
  Scip-Hadni paused only long enough to be 
  respectful, but a true bard does not miss a 
  beat. “Who have you lost?”
  The carpmonger glanced about like a 
  frightened hare. “More than one.”
  Scip-Hadni 
  nodded 
  gravely. 
  Ice 
  fishing was a dangerous business. 
  Indeed, many believed that the first to 
  fall through must be left as payment 
  to the spirits of that place, be they the 
  vodyanoi and rusalka of witch-ruled 
  Irrisen or the ice-hearted wendigo of 
  the Realm of the Mammoth Lords. 
  Scip-Hadni had heard tales of a troll 
  lord who ruled the waters beneath 
  the Black Tarn. Yet of the Rimeflow, 
  he had heard no tales.
  That, in itself, was significant. 
  Folk spoke little of what they feared 
  most.
  “Tell me the names and deeds 
  of those lost so I might compose 
  runesongs to remember them.”
  The carpmonger did and Scip-Hadni 
  began to wonder as the list grew and 
  grew. One lost fisherman was unlucky but to 
  be expected. Two, extremely unfortunate. Three, an exceptionally 
  sorrowful year. But the situation began to look dire. When the 
  number reached a dozen, it became a horror beyond human memory, 
  and indeed, coincidence.
  A bard, however, had his duty. That night Scip-Hadni was 
  welcomed into the circle of the fishermen. Their camp was up the 
  river from Kalsgard. They pointed a ways away to a hole in the ice 
  where the best fishing lay and most of the fisherman had been lost. It 
  never froze, they said.
  Scip-Hadni knew that such spots formed where a spring led down 
  the three rimes
  by Kevin Andrew Murphy
  Art by Ashton Sperry
  
  12
  to the river’s edge. Yet he was also a bard, schooled in ancient lore. His 
  grandmother had whispered warnings of such holes, polished to the 
  smoothness of glass around the edges, gateways to the First World of 
  the fey, whether formed of spring’s mushrooms or winter’s ice.
  Scip-Hadni sang his dirge, drumming his drum, singing the lives 
  of the men lost. He kept one eye on the remaining fishermen and the 
  other on the fey-haunted hole. Steam rose from it and the night’s chill 
  froze it into the accursed pogonip frost, twinkling like dust from a 
  pixie’s wings but able to sear a man’s lungs.
  Leaning close to the fire lest he breathe even a gasp of it, Scip-Hadni 
  sang his last song. When he had finished, there was silence.
  Then, a moment later, there came a thunderous roar, not the roar 
  of applause but the cracking of ice, great rifts forming as the night 
  chilled.
  This was followed by screams and wails echoing up from downriver 
  where the festival city lay....
  The Second Rime
  Sing, O skald, and strike your tambor,
  Pluck your harp or play your pipes.
  Men forget, but you remember
  All men know or fear or hope.
  Warriors, their names unspoken,
  Live again when skalds’ tongues skip
  Like the Rimeflow’s leaping salmon,
  Souls returning from Death’s keep.
  Life and death moved swiftly in 
  the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. The 
  Rimeflow had cracked wide, swallowing 
  a meadhall and all who drank within. With 
  Ulfen graveside humor, it was joked that they 
  had finally been able to quench their thirst! Varni 
  humor was more subtle, and Scip-Hadni knew too 
  many dark tales to ever speak ill of the dead.
  There were other victims, but none more poignant 
  than the nutmonger’s daughter, a maiden in her first blush 
  of 
  womanhood. She stood frozen beneath the ice like a princess in a glass 
  coffin, her blue eyes open wide in surprise, her lips slightly parted, her 
  hands held over a chestnut brazier that no longer burned.
  She would never be warm again.
  Her name was Aelfhilda. Scip-Hadni composed a dirge, but 
  would accept no payment. Her father was a widower and had lost his 
  livelihood along with all that meant anything to him. It did not help 
  that skaters came by to gawk, treating the frozen maiden as one more 
  amusement now that the iron aquarium had lost its novelty.
  The tank still stood, if now at a slight angle. Scip-Hadni tossed 
  his favorite carp half of another saffron bun. Her eyes were like the 
  nutmonger’s daughter’s trapped behind the ice, almost human and far 
  more alive.
  There were other dirges to sing, then a peculiar and inappropriately 
  exotic amusement. Two nobles from Taldor claimed their minstrels 
  had been swallowed by the ice. Rather than commission a dirge, they 
  wished Scip-Hadni to sing their favorite song while they danced as 
  they did on the waters of Oppara’s frozen canals.
  Their skates were made of silver and their movements were elegant 
  but aloof, like the cruelly entrancing beauty of the fey. Yet like the fey, 
  Scip-Hadni knew that Taldan nobles honored politeness above all.
  He accepted their commission in exchange for a jeweled snuffbox. 
  When opened, it played a pretty tune they called ‘The Congress of 
  Oppara.’
  Scip-Hadni did not know the words, so sang a folderol, calling out 
  the pure notes in the manner of songbirds. The Taldan couple danced 
  upon the ice, weaving patterns with their skates, moving so exquisitely 
  that they traced a perfect circle in the center of the Rimeflow’s frozen 
  expanse.
  Scip-Hadni sang, watching as he did how his favorite golden carp 
  swam in a circle in the center of the aquarium.
  The Ulfen folk could not move with such elegance, but they joined 
  in the merriment, dancing the spinning dervish dance of the witch 
  queen’s guards. Young Ulfen men in high fur hats, their arms crossed, 
  leapt high, kicking out their iron skates with martial fury. The Taldan 
  nobleman was not to be bested, and he spun about, leaping higher still, 
  like a salmon leaping up the falls. Then he came down.
  The ice cracked.
  It was a perfect circle. One side went down, taking the Taldan couple 
  and the Irrisen dancers with it. The 
  other came up, falling into place 
  like the lid of the jeweled 
  snuffbox, leaving the 
  surface 
  of 
  the 
  river smooth once 
  again.
  There 
  were 
  cries 
  and 
  excla mat ions, 
  people taking up 
  ice hooks and 
  saws, attempting 
  to 
  save 
  the 
  d r o w n i n g . 
  Circles 
  made 
  gateways 
  to 
  the 
  First World. The bodies floated 
  to the bottom and were seen no more....
  Until later.
  At nightfall, the lost ones rose out of the ice fishing hole, the Taldan 
  nobles and their minstrels, the Irrisen martial dancers, the folk from 
  the meadhall, the dozen lost fishermen, and many more. They were as 
  cold and merciless as death.
  “Nethys hid where
  All could see him,
  Like a snowflake in a blizzard,
  Like a rune upon a wizard.”
  Scip-Hadni sang the charm of invisibility, a glamour of distraction 
  such that the viewer would forever be looking at something else. The 
  dead men blinked and staggered by, their soulless eyes seeking other 
  victims.
  Scip-Hadni held his breath and pressed his back up against the glass 
  wall of the aquarium. The dead moved past, their lips as blue as their 
  eyes, until Scip-Hadni saw a squirrelskin tippet so rimed with hoarfrost 
  it looked like a queen’s miniver stole. “Aelfhilda....” The name sprang 
  from his lips unbidden.
  “Who spoke?” The dead girl stopped in her tracks, as frozen in 
  metaphor as she was in truth. “Who knows my name?”
  One did not lie to the dead, but one did not tell them the truth either. 
  “No one you know.” Names held power. “But since I have answered 
  two questions, Aelfhilda, I bind you by your name to answer two of 
  mine: What do you seek and why?”
  “Revenge and justice,” the dead girl answered coldly. “Someone 
  
  13
  has stolen Isegerde, the Nix King’s daughter, and his anger knows no 
  bounds. He will have her back. If she is dead, he will not rest until 
  Kalsgard itself tumbles into the Rimeflow.”
  The riddle’s knot came undone. The Nix King, ruler of the water 
  fey, was said to live in a palace of coral, amber, and shells, a palace 
  with a thousand beautiful rooms and one hidden one. There he kept 
  his greatest treasure, the bottles holding the souls of the drowned. 
  It was rumored to be far beneath the waters of many rivers and 
  enchanted pools. Yet in truth, those were only entryways, for 
  Scip-Hadni knew the true palace could only exist in the First 
  World.
  Nixies were cruel and capricious, like all fey, and beautiful, 
  like many, but being fey, nixies were also bound by iron rules, 
  one of which was iron itself. They were also able take the 
  form of any creature that dwelled in the water–a puffin or 
  an otter. Even a fish....
  “I know where your princess is,” Scip-Hadni said. 
  “Come with me and I will see that she is returned to 
  her father.”
  “I cannot see you so how can I?”
  “Where I will take you is secret. Allow me to 
  bind you and blindfold you and I will take you 
  there.”
  Hope is a curious thing, even for the dead. 
  Scip-Hadni bound the girl and took her to 
  her father’s tent where the old man hid from 
  the battle that raged outside. The bard placed 
  the rope in the old man’s hands, whispering 
  in his ear, “This is your daughter but not your 
  daughter. Hold fast to the rope and tell her to wait, 
  but do not let her free until I return with her soul.”
  The old man held the rope like it was hope itself, 
  and Scip-Hadni slipped out of the tent, singing the 
  charm of invisibility again and going up the steps 
  to the iron aquarium.
  At last he captured the golden carp. Scip-Hadni placed 
  her in a tub of warm water, whispering, “Isegerde, I will take you to 
  your father.”  He placed the tub in his sleigh and led his reindeer away 
  from the battle, back up the Rimeflow’s frozen flow.
  The Third Rime
  Flow, O Rimeflow, from Irrisen,
  Glacier Lake to Steaming Sea,
  East to west you stretch unbidden
  Like a linnorm roaming free.
  In your depths the Nix King, hidden,
  Claims the souls that pass his way.
  Warrior or crone or maiden,
  All fall to the nixie’s sway.
  Scip-Hadni tied his sleigh to a frozen bush at the river’s edge, but 
  loosed his reindeer from all but one strap so she could break free if he 
  did not return.
  He then took the tub to the hole in the ice, pouring it in. The golden 
  carp disappeared beneath the surface, then a moment later, reappeared. 
  Her golden scales melted into golden curls and her large carp’s eyes 
  became maiden’s eyes.
  “Take me to your father, Isegerde,” Scip-Hadni said.
  The nixie laughed. “I will need a kiss first.”
  With that, she leapt up. The next moment, her lips were on his, sweet 
  as honeycakes. Then her hands were on the flaps of his cap pulling him 
  down through the hole, into the water, and down and away below.
  Scip-Hadni was not certain when he passed to the First World, only 
  that when Isegerde released him, they were standing before a great gate. 
  Two rows of pike stood guard. On second glance, the pike became a 
  double complement of nixies wearing scaled armor and bearing pikes.
  So it was through the palace. The salmon became courtiers. The 
  trout became servants. The perch and greylings became clerks 
  and turnkeys. Finally they came to the throne room where a 
  great moss-bearded sturgeon became a hoary ancient king. 
  “My lovely!” the Nix King exclaimed.
  “Father!” She curtsied low in her gown of golden scales. 
  “May I present my rescuer?”
  “You may, my dear.” The old king smiled, revealing mossy 
  green teeth. “What is his name?”
  “I do not know,” admitted Isegerde, “but he knows 
  mine.”
  “Indeed.” The Nix King nodded. “What did he 
  rescue you from?”
  “Oh, it was horrid. A cage with iron bars. Surely 
  you would not want me to dwell in it. But he 
  shared his saffron cake, and then rescued me!”
  “Saffron cakes. I see. Should we offer our 
  guest some refreshment then?”
  One did not eat the fruits of the First 
  World if one intended to leave, but by the 
  same token, one did not insult the fey. “I had 
  quite stuffed myself at the faire, Majesty,” 
  Scip-Hadni apologized, bowing quickly. 
  “Had I known, I might have saved room, but 
  alas.”
  “I see,” said the Nix King. “From your pleasant 
  manner, I must guess that you are a bard. You 
  must surely know I owe you a boon for rescuing 
  my daughter from the horrors of the surface 
  world. Ask what you like.”
  Scip-Hadni knew of bards before who had asked to 
  learn the language of all animals, or how to take their forms, or any of 
  a dozen wondrous secrets. He also knew that those who were greedy in 
  what they asked of the fey gained what they wished but with a curse in 
  the bargain. But he must ask, and whether it was too much or too little 
  remained to be seen.
  “Your Majesty, I have heard that you have a secret room where you 
  keep bottles filled with the souls of the drowned. I ask not to see that 
  chamber, or all of the souls, but only one, the soul of Aelfhilda, the 
  nutmonger’s daughter. I ask not for myself, but for him, for she is all he 
  has left in the world. Surely you know what it is to lose a daughter and 
  what you would do to see her safe return.”
  “A wise and selfless man,” the king said. “Surely you must be a bard, 
  for you know who we honor here. You shall have what you ask.”
  And so it was. The Varni bard returned with a bottle of pearls and 
  amber, restoring the soul of Aelfhilda when he opened it before her. 
  Great was the joy of her father, even greater when the bard presented 
  them with the Nix King’s bottle, a fabulous dowry for the poor man’s 
  daughter.
  Yet how this story ends, I leave to the bards to say. Some say Scip-
  Hadni married Aelfhilda and they were happy and prosperous to the 
  end of their days. Some say the Varni runesinger returned to Isegerde, 
  the Nix King’s daughter, and they live happily still in the First World.
  Yet some say this happened not long ago, and if you wander to the 
  Crown of the World, you may meet Scip-Hadni to ask where his story 
  went from there. B
  
  14
  Evil has many faces. This is one of them.
  learn more about widowmaker scarlet and 
  Available Now EXCLUSIVELY ONLINE
  www.lpjdesign.com
  
  P
  15
  T
  here, into the mists and drifts of the deepest storm I’d ever seen 
  befall the wood of the Grungir, she simply ... disappeared. An 
  apparition, a ghost, a beautiful terror; she was half a snow-
  fairy, like a princess from some strange, mis-forgotten refrain of the 
  Gorumskaagat in the mouth of a reeling drunk. She spun, and the 
  blizzard spun with her, her servant and her lover. And then ... she 
  was gone. 
  “But ... but not them, not the men she killed.”
  - Grandfather Hyglak, Huscarl of the North Jol track
  Not all those who learn the strange, subtle weft & weave 
  of shadow and skin, dance and damnation become tied to 
  powers of necromancy: consorting with airy undead shades 
  and calling up quasi-real mirages spawned of transparent, 
  vague material stolen from lower dimensions. The frostwind 
  dancer calls upon the brutal, howling heart of winter itself.
  Vanish within the Frost (Su): A frostwind dancer can 
  use the Stealth skill even while being observed. She can hide 
  herself from view in the open without anything to actually 
  hide behind as long as the area is below freezing - that is, 30 
  degrees Fahrenheit or lower. During conditions of snowfall, 
  hail, sleet or high wind while the temperate is sufficiently low, 
  she gains an additional bonus to her Stealth equal to her class 
  level. This ability replaces Hide in Plain Sight.
  Winter’s Evasion (Su): At 2nd level, a frostwind dancer 
  gains immunity to nonlethal damage from cold. She also 
  gains evasion as a rogue except against any effect that 
  deals fire damage. Against effects that deal fire damage, 
  the frostwind dancer gains no benefit. This ability 
  replaces Evasion. At 10th level, a frostwind dancer 
  gains Improved Evasion as normal, with the same 
  restriction (however, see Winter’s Mistress).
  Lies in the Long Night (Sp): When a 
  frostwind dancer reaches 3rd level, she can 
  create visual and auditory illusions. This 
  ability may function either as ghost sound or 
  as silent image, using the frostwind dancer’s 
  level as the caster level. A frostwind dancer 
  can use this ability once per day for every 
  frostwind dancer level she has attained. 
  The DC for this ability is Charisma-based. 
  This ability replaces both Shadow Illusion and 
  Summon Shadow.
  Call Down Winter (Sp): At 4th level, a frostwind dancer can fill 
  a living target with supernatural cold. This ability functions as the 
  spell unshakable chill, using the frostwind dancer’s level as the caster 
  level; the effects stack. A frostwind dancer can use this ability once 
  per day at 4th level, plus one additional time per day for every level 
  attained beyond 4th. Upon reaching 10th level, this ability functions 
  as a quickened unshakeable chill. The DC for this ability is Charisma-
  based. This ability replaces Shadow Call.
  Dance upon the Frost (Su): At 4th level, a frostwind dancer gains 
  the ability to travel between areas as if by means of a dimension door 
  spell. The limitation is that the magical transport must begin and end 
  in an area that is at or below freezing. A frostwind dancer can jump 
  up to a total of 40 feet each day in this way; this may be a single jump 
  of 40 feet or four jumps of 10 feet each. Every two levels higher than 
  4th, the distance a frostwind dancer can jump each day doubles (80 
  feet at 6th, 160 feet at 8th, and 320 feet at 10th). This amount can be 
  split among many jumps, but each one, no matter how small, counts 
  as a 10-foot increment. This ability replaces Shadow Jump.
  Hoar Frost (Sp): At 8th level, a frostwind dancer can use raw cold 
  to damage her foes. This ability functions as cone of 
  cold, using the frostwind dancer’s level as the caster 
  level. A frostwind dancer can use this ability once 
  per day at 8th level, and one additional time 
  per day upon reaching 10th level. The DC for 
  this ability is Charisma-based. This ability 
  replaces Shadow Power.
  Winter’s Mistress (Su): 
  At 10th level, a frostwind 
  dancer 
  takes 
  the 
  eternal chill of winter 
  within her. She gains 
  immunity 
  to 
  cold 
  and fire. In addition, 
  whenever a frostwind 
  dancer is in an area that 
  is at or below freezing, she 
  gains DR 10/— and a +1 
  luck bonus on all saving 
  throws. This ability 
  replaces 
  Shadow 
  Master. B
  frostwind danCer:
  PRESTIGE ARCHETYPE FOR
   THE SHADOWDANCER
  by Clinton J. “thatboomerkid” Boomer
  Art by Katie Ellis
  
  P
  16
  CaPtaiN’S SHielD
  Aura moderate transmutation; CL 6th
  Slot shield; Price 7,357 gp; Weight 10 lbs.
  DESCRIPTION
  A Captain’s Shield is a large round shield painted with twining 
  sea serpents. When used in combat, it acts as a 
  +2 heavy wooden shield. When racked on the 
  side of a water vehicle (in the style of the Ulfen 
  longships) the captain’s shield grants a +4 
  competence bonus on both driving checks 
  and to the ship’s AC.
  CONSTRUCTION
  Requirements Craft Magic Arms and 
  Armor, creator must have 5 ranks in 
  the Profession (sailor) skill; Cost 3,757 
  gp
  CurSe-Stealer
  Aura strong evocation; CL 13th
  Slot none; Price 11,302 gp; Weight 3 
  lb.
  DESCRIPTION
  The wielder of this +1 cold iron 
  shortspear gains a +2 resistance bonus 
  on saves against curses. If the wielder 
  successfully saves against a curse, he 
  can choose to store it within the spear. 
  Anytime the curse-stealer strikes a 
  creature and the creature takes damage 
  from it, the spear can immediately target 
  that creature with the stored curse as a 
  free action if the wielder desires. The target 
  gains a saving throw against the curse at the 
  original DC. Only one curse can be stored in a 
  curse-stealer at one time. The spear magically 
  imparts to the wielder the nature of the curse 
  currently stored within it.
  CONSTRUCTION
  Requirements Craft Magic Arms and Armor, spell turning; 
  Cost 5,802 gp
  Gorum’S fiSt
  Aura faint evocation;  CL 5th
  Slot none;  Price 3,815 gp;  Weight 4 lb.
  DESCRIPTION
  The pommel of this +1 longsword resembles the knuckles of a 
  fist. A proficient wielder can strike with the pommel as though 
  wielding a +1 light mace. Three times per day, the wielder can 
  strike an object with the pommel and make a Strength check 
  with a +5 enhancement bonus to break that object.
  CONSTRUCTION
  Requirements Craft Magic Arms and Armor, bull’s strength;  
  Cost 2,065 gp
  GruNDiNNar’S BearD
  Aura moderate evocation;  CL 6th
  Slot none;  Price 8,320 gp;  Weight 7 lb.
  DESCRIPTION
  This +1 hooked axe (Ultimate Combat pg144) is named for the 
  dwarven god of peacekeeping whose face is etched in profile 
  upon the blade. Whenever the wielder of Grundinnar’s Beard 
  successfully disarms an opponent, the disarmed weapon lands 
  15 feet away from its previous wielder, in a random direction. 
  If the 
  wielder of Grundinnar’s Beard has the 
  Greater Disarm feat, he can instead 
  make a ranged attack with 
  the disarmed 
  weapon as an 
  immediate 
  hero’s hoard:
  with mY sPear and
  MAGIC HELMET!
  by David “Hill Giant” Schwartz
  Art by Carlos Torreblanca
  
  17
  action, as if the weapon had a range increment of 10 feet.
  CONSTRUCTION
  Requirements Craft Magic Arms and Armor, magic stone;  Cost 
  4,320 gp
  HoNeY armor
  Aura faint abjuration;  CL 3rd
  Slot armor;  Price 3,325 gp;  Weight 8 lbs.
  DESCRIPTION
  The leather plates that compose this +1 lamellar cuirass 
  (Ultimate Combat pg128) are hardened with beeswax and 
  smell faintly of honey. Once per day, the wearer can cause 
  the sweet scent to extend to a 30-ft. radius for as long as 
  he concentrates. Animals and vermin within the radius are 
  fascinated (Will DC 13 negates). Creatures with an Intelligence 
  score of 3 or higher cannot be affected.
  CONSTRUCTION
  Requirements  Craft Magic Arms and Armor, animal trance;  
  Cost 1,745 gp
  HuSCarl’S SeaXe
  Aura faint abjuration;  CL 3rd
  Slot none;  Price 4,702 gp;  Weight 4 lb.
  DESCRIPTION
  This +1 dagger is paired with a leather sheath bearing a sigil 
  in platinum of a powerful ruler. Once per day, as part of the 
  action to draw the seaxe, the wielder can cast shield other 
  targeting the character whose sigil it bears. The wielder 
  dismisses this effect by sheathing the seaxe.
  Each Huscarl’s seaxe is made for a specific ruler to be given to a 
  trusted lieutenant. A character can rededicate the weapon to 
  another liege by means of a special ritual. Treat this ritual as if 
  the character were crafting the Huscarl’s seaxe, except that it 
  requires 1,000 gp worth of material components and 8 hours 
  work.
  CONSTRUCTION
  Requirements Craft Magic Arms and Armor, shield other; Cost 
  2,502 gp
  liNeBreaKer’S Helmet
  Aura faint evocation;  CL 1st
  Slot head;  Price 6,000 gp;  Weight 3 lbs.
  DESCRIPTION
  When the wearer of the linebreaker’s helmet makes a successful 
  bull rush against an opponent, he may attempt a free bull 
  rush maneuver against all adjacent characters, as well. Before 
  moving the first opponent, the wearer may compare the initial 
  combat maneuver check result to CMD of all additional targets 
  and move each target against whom the check is successful. 
  The wearer can only move with the initial target.
  CONSTRUCTION
  Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, bull strength; Cost 3,000 
  gp B
  
  P
  18
  G
  reat Hunt is a board game for two to four players and is widely 
  played within the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. The playing 
  board is a thirteen by thirteen-square grid. Each player begins 
  with five shield-bearers and one king. There is also a third piece, 
  called the Great Wurm. Not controlled by any player, the Wurm acts 
  randomly according to a die roll every turn. 
  While it is commonly a household game, enjoyed by nobility and 
  commoner alike, Great Hunt playing boards are a common sight in 
  mead halls. Save for the Great Wurm, kept on the board as a ward 
  against the linnorms they represent, players in mead halls do need to 
  provide their own pieces and the quality of one’s Great Hunt pieces is 
  considered a sign of social standing by many.
  STARTING LAYOUT
  The beginning setup varies for a two, three, or four player game as 
  shown in the illustrations below. 
  The starting player is determined by high die roll. Play continues 
  clockwise from the initial player with each player moving one piece 
  per turn.
            Three Player Setup
              Two Player  Setup
  MOVEMENT
  Shield-bearers move in a 
  straight line, horizontally or 
  vertically. The amount they 
  may move is determined 
  by how many active shield-
  bearers a player has. If a 
  player has five shield-bearers 
  still in play, the player’s 
  shield-bearers may move up 
  to five squares, four shield-
  bearers four spaces, and so 
  on. If a player only has one 
  shield-bearer, they can move 
  up to two spaces.
  Kings 
  may 
  move 
  horizontally, vertically or 
  diagonally 
  two 
  spaces. 
  Unlike a shield-bearer, a 
  king must always move two 
  squares.
  The Great Wurm can 
  move either horizontally or 
  vertically, and the player 
  rolls a d6 to determine the 
  Wurm’s movement.
  If result of the roll would 
  result in the Great Wurm 
  moving off the board or 
  through another piece, the 
  direction reverses from the 
  point of conflict. 
  The Wurm die passes to the next player counter-clockwise, who rolls 
  and moves the Great Wurm at the end of their next turn. In the case 
  of a two-player game, the Great Wurm die is rolled at the end of each 
  player’s turn.
  D6 
  Great Wurm moves…
  1 
  One square towards the side opposite the player
  2 
  One square to the player’s right
  3 
  One square towards the player
  4 
  One square to the player’s left
  5 
  One square of the player’s choice
  6 
  Roll again, ignoring a result of 6. The Great Wurm moves  
   
  two squares.
  CAPTURING PIECES
  Players capture their opponents’ pieces by trapping them between 
  two of their own pieces. Two shield-bearers or a shield-bearer and a 
  king may capture an opposing shield-bearer or king. A king may also 
  slay the Great Wurm by ending its movement on the same square the 
  Great Wurm occupies.
  Moving a shield-bearer or king between two opposing pieces owned 
  by the same player is considered a “flank”; the two opposing pieces do 
  not capture the piece that moves between them. 
  The Great Wurm captures any shield-bearer or king that is in a 
  square adjacent to it after it moves.
  Players may move a shield-bearer or king adjacent to the Great 
  Wurm on their turn without the piece being captured. However, if the 
  piece is still adjacent to the Great Wurm after the Great Wurm moves, 
  the piece is still captured.
  of ChanCe and sKiLL:
  great hUnt
  by Dain “zylphryx” Nielsen
  Art by Jonathan Roberts
  
  19
  A player who is reduced to only their king cannot capture any piece 
  except the Great Wurm and the player is termed as “questing” for the 
  remainder of the game. 
  If a player’s king is captured, the player is out of the game and all of 
  the player’s remaining pieces are removed from the board.
  Shield Movement
  King Movement
  Capturing Movement
  Flanking Movement
  WINNING THE GAME
  There are two methods to winning the game, referred to as “the 
  Warlord” and “the High King.”
  The Warlord
  In order to win by the Warlord path, the player must be the last to 
  have a king on the board due to players capturing opposing kings or 
  the Great Wurm capturing kings. This is considered the lesser of the 
  two victories.
  The High King
  In order to win by the High King path, the player must capture the 
  Great Wurm, regardless of the number of other kings on the board.  B
  
  20
  
  P
  21
  I 
  had heard only vague stories of Trollheim during my studies at 
  the Academy. According to the texts, it is considered the last wall 
  between the Lands of the Linnorm Kings and the Witch-ruled 
  nation of Irrisen. I was sure that such a place would hold the warriors 
  of legend I sought. I traveled north and west with a trading party from 
  Andoran, passing through the Grungir Forest 
  and crossed the Rimeflow River. By the 
  time we reached Trollheim, I had 
  spent most of my gold on furs and 
  cloaks just to stay warm.
  When the city came into 
  view, I must say I was 
  astounded. Never before 
  had I seen such a 
  structure. Even war-
  torn nations such 
  as Brevoy lacked 
  such 
  cyclopean 
  a rc h it e c t u re . 
  The walls must 
  have been over 
  fifty feet tall; 
  and 
  as 
  we 
  passed within, 
  I saw that they 
  had to be near 
  ten feet thick. 
  I thanked the 
  traders, 
  paid 
  them, and headed 
  off in search of the 
  castellan of the city, 
  Freyr Darkwine. Surely 
  his Blackravens would be just the 
  warriors I was looking for. I never did find him.
  I searched for over an hour as the thick snow and the harsh cold 
  seeped through my furs and into my flesh. I grew tired, and wanted 
  only to find a warm place to nap. I have trouble recollecting what 
  happened next.
  I remember checking my purse to see how much coin I still had and 
  finding I couldn’t count because my hands were shaking. I searched 
  for an inn, but found none. Trollheim is not a city accustomed to 
  visitors. The last thing I remember was leaning against a stone wall 
  and drifting into a heavy sleep. 
  I awoke later to the sound of a crackling fire and the scent of 
  something savory. After getting my bearings, I sat up to examine my 
  surroundings:  I sat within a bed in a small, stone-and-mortar house—
  more of a hut, really—with little for decoration. A set of massive jaws 
  adorned one wall like a set of antlers might hang in a hunter’s lodge. 
  A sheathed longsword sat next to a large, round wooden shield beside 
  the room’s single door. A lantern rested upon a small wooden table 
  with a chair beside it. The fire I’d heard and the stew I’d smelled were 
  to my right, and a big Ulfen man knelt before them.
  He had a ladle in one hand, with which he stirred the stew before 
  bringing it to his nose. Apparently deciding it was ready, he scooped 
  some into the pair of bowls in his other hand. He replaced the ladle 
  and removed the pot containing the stew from above the fire and set 
  it aside, then turned toward me.
  I was quite frightened of this huge Ulfen man. His face was old, 
  with thick lines and creases that told of harsh summers and harsher 
  winters. A thick scar ran across his cheek and down his chin, and one 
  of his eyes was milky white. I could clearly see the scars on his face 
  because his blonde beard would not grow over them. His beard, along 
  with the hair atop his head, were soft and silken-looking and braided 
  in a manner I had never seen before. I was quite taken aback by the 
  stark contrast between such a grizzled face and such a fantastically 
  well-kept mane.
  The man placed the bowls of stew on his table and took a seat 
  in his chair. He had no utensils, and instead drank the 
  stew directly from the bowl. I took what I assumed 
  to be my own serving in both hands. The 
  warmth reminded my body that it was still 
  half-frozen. Unpleasant pinpricks stabbed 
  my fingers as I lifted the stew to my 
  lips. It tasted awful, but it was warm 
  and I drank it happily, chewing and 
  swallowing the thick chunks of 
  meat.
  When he finished (long 
  before I did), he simply sat 
  and waited for me. It was 
  quite awkward. I tried 
  to make conversation, 
  tried to thank him for 
  pulling me in from the 
  cold, and tried to ask 
  about Darkwine, who 
  I had still not found. 
  He didn’t respond to 
  any of my questions, 
  and only stared, so I 
  finished my stew.
  He took the bowls 
  and exited the hut. 
  The rush of cold air 
  was bracing, but 
  I 
  stood 
  on 
  stiff 
  knees 
  and followed 
  to observe him as he washed them out with snow. Outside, I could 
  see the massive walls of Trollheim jutting above the horizon in the 
  distance. I knew I could make the journey to Trollheim, but it would 
  be quite a long walk, and not one I wanted to take on my own.
  The Ulfen waited for me to go back inside, and once I did, he 
  taLLaK: Portrait
  of a warrior
  by Christopher Delvo
  ART BY LIZ Courts 
  
  22
  followed me in, shutting the door. Again, I tried to speak with him 
  and thank him for his aid. Again, he did not respond. At this point, 
  I was becoming quite frustrated. I was not sure whether he was just 
  being rude, or if he perhaps did not speak the common tongue. So, I 
  tried a new tactic.
  “Hello,” I told him in slow, deliberate words, “I am Karis.” I gestured 
  to my chest as I spoke, denoting that I was in fact giving my name.
  “Tallak,” he responded. I was so excited, I very nearly clapped my 
  hands. Finally, I had made progress. Then, he took up his sword 
  and shield, and left once more. The happiness drained from me, as 
  I realized my apparent savior had left me behind. I decided to wait 
  for him rather than attempt a trek to the city. Serving myself another 
  bowl of the terrible stew and gulping it down only to warm my core, 
  I pulled his chair up to the fire and waited. I am not sure how long I 
  waited for him, but eventually I dug into my pack for a harrow deck 
  I’d purchased in Varisia to entertain myself.
  Eventually, Tallak came back. It was night by then. I welcomed 
  him, but he again did not respond. Now I was fairly sure he was just 
  being rude. He spied the bowl I’d used for my second serving of stew 
  and took it up before replacing his sword and shield against the wall, 
  cleaning it once more with snow before returning and removing his 
  weapons and heavy leathers. I watched as he sat by the fire, reached 
  under his bed and removed a large, thick-bristled brush. 
  He undid the braids in his beard and hair before brushing both of 
  them. I started counting the strokes of the brush through his hair, 
  but stopped sometime after reaching one hundred fifty. I would not 
  be surprised if he brushed both his hair and beard a thousand times 
  each. At last, he replaced the brush beneath the bed, he re-braided 
  them—a fascinating sight on its own—and put his leathers back on 
  before stretching out on the floor by the fire. A few minutes later, I 
  heard the snoring of deep sleep.
  I sat for a short while, embarrassed that this man who had taken me 
  into his home when I could have died in the frost, and who had fed 
  me and kept me warm, was now sleeping in front of the fire so that I 
  might have his bed. I do not remember when I fell asleep.
  I had heard that the sound of an Ulfen song is one of the most 
  beautiful sounds in all of Golarion. When I awoke to the sound of 
  Tallak singing outside, I knew that statement to be true.
  A bowl of stew lay on the table beside the bed, but I ignored it 
  and arose, stepping outside to watch him. He sat naked in the snow, 
  bathing himself with the same pot he’d used for the stew, now filled 
  with steaming water. Scars decorated his body like roads on a leather 
  map. The song emanating from his lips was slow and sad, and in a 
  language I did not recognize, but it was truly the most beautiful I’d 
  ever heard.
  Not wishing to intrude, I closed the door and waited until he came 
  inside and dressed in his leathers once more. He aimed his one good 
  eye at me and said,
  “Today we go to Trollheim.”
  I agreed and blanketed myself once more in my furs. The journey 
  back to Trollheim was long and arduous, but having Tallak watch 
  over me as we walked somehow made it easier to withstand. He did 
  not say goodbye when we finally entered the city walls, but wordlessly 
  directed me to the closest inn. I thanked him and watched him walk 
  away, heavy and strong, with silken, braided hair the color of the sun 
  and a blade-and-shield slung across his back.
  Stark against the snow, he was the portrait of a warrior.
  -Karis Nils, Pathfinder Chronicler  B
  
  P
  23
  S
  ituated where the Rimeflow River bends northwest, roughly 
  halfway between Losthome and Delmon’s Glen, Trenail is 
  one of the lesser-known reasons for the success of the Kalsgard 
  shipyards. Much of the more specialized wood that the shipyards use 
  has been grown, harvested, and prepared in Trenail, before being 
  rafted down the river to join the larger booms of Losthome. Since 
  the Guardians of Grungir arrived there two centuries ago, Trenail has 
  grown entwined with the forest it depends on, and only the brashest 
  of would-be woodcutters enter its territory uninvited.
  treNail
  N small town
  Corruption –2; Crime +0; Economy +0; Law +0; Lore +5; 
  Society –3
  Qualities magically attuned, rumormongering citizens
  Danger +0
  DEMOGRAPHICS
  Government magical
  Population 700 (550 humans; 100 gnomes; 35 fey; 12 dwarves; 
  3 halfelves)
  Notable NPCs
  Guardian Bruni Gelier (LN male human druid 7)
  Chief Trader Kadlin Steinvor (CG female human bard 6)
  Raftcaptain Skeggie Risteljaf (N male gnome rogue 7)
  MARKETPLACE
  Base Value 1,200 gp; Purchase Limit 6,000 gp; Spellcasting 
  7th
  Minor Items 3d4; Medium Items 1d6; Major Items —
  APPEARANCE
  Most visitors arrive by river. On the downstream side, towards 
  Losthome, the first sign of Trenail is a muddy west bank sloping up to 
  meet piled logs and a rutted dirt path. On the upstream side, Trenail 
  appears more gradually as a collection of low buildings rising among 
  the trees on either side, and then a pair of docks, each supporting a 
  dozen rowboats. Away from the river, the buildings continue, forming 
  a town not so much carved out of the forest as built in harmony 
  within it. Fifty yards in from the east bank, the forest opens out into 
  a clearing around a shrine to Gozreh built from river stones and tree 
  branches. On the west bank, a similar clearing forms Trenail’s main 
  market place.
  HISTORY
  Trenail has existed as a lumber camp almost as long as Kalsgard 
  has been making ships, but when Losthome was founded, it began 
  sending its wood there, trading lower profits for substantially reduced 
  costs. Then, in 4508, the Guardians of Grungir arrived at Trenail 
  in force. To the surprise of many, Trenail wasn’t closed completely, 
  but reshaped into a town that treated the trees with respect, asking 
  permission before felling them and using magic to encourage planted 
  replacements to grow fast, strong and the perfect shape for the ships 
  desired. Trenail doesn’t produce the volume of wood that it did prior 
  to the Guardians’ takeover, but the wood it does produce is of even 
  higher quality, and as a result the town has continued to thrive under 
  their care.
  RELATIONS AND TRADE
  Trenail has good, if slightly strained, relations with Losthome as 
  the town knows that without their wood, Losthome would have to fell 
  more of its own trees to meet demand. However, Losthome also takes 
  the credit for Trenail’s wood when delivering to Kalsgard, something 
  that has become a sore point with Trenail’s traders. Relations with 
  Jol and Trollheim are more confrontational, as the Guardians have 
  previously caught lumberjack teams from both cities slipping into the 
  forest to cut their own wood.
  SITES OF INTEREST
  (Everything But) Blood and Ashes: From a distance this round 
  chandler’s shop appears to bear the name ‘Blood and Ashes’. However 
  on close observation, smaller words can be seen surrounding the main 
  sign so that in full it reads ‘Everything but Blood and Ashes’. Inside 
  it is a maze of cluttered shelves and chests filled with miscellaneous 
  goods. This is also where the majority of the town’s magical items can 
  be found. The owner, Inga Ormsdottir (NG female half-elf wizard 
  3) opened the store to pay her way while she studied magic and never 
  got round to closing it again. For a fee, she will also use minor magics 
  such as mending on broken axes and other non-magical items, or 
  placing an arcane mark on expensive lumber destined for a particular 
  customer, as well as creating alchemical items to order.
  The Floating Forest: Wedged between three old pines not far from 
  the shrine, this inn is smothered in ivy and by far the most natural 
  looking of the main buildings. Patronised mostly by the Guardians 
  and their customers, fare here leans towards the gourmet rather than 
  the common. Lanterns containing stained glass panels hang above the 
  tables, and each table is divided from the others by thin green curtains 
  woven to look like cascading leaves. Everyday business is handled by 
  Halla Gudlang (NE female human druid 1), an apprentice Guardian, 
  but both the chief trader Kadlin Steinvor and the lumber overseer 
  Guardian Bruni Gelier can be found at the Floating Forest’s tables 
  most nights, sometimes together, sometimes separate, according to 
  their off and on relationship and the trading deals they are working 
  on at the time. Halla has been skimming off some of the profits from 
  the inn since she was put in charge of it, but is not foolish enough to 
  do anything that would endanger her apprenticeship.
  The Greatsword: When Regin Vermund (CN male human 
  barbarian 3) lost an eye in a wild charge, he decided to retire and 
  open his very own tavern where he could drink without being thrown 
  out by some bouncer or other. When Regin finally settled in Trenail, 
  he brought his faithful greatsword with him to hang above the bar 
  and has been known to sweep the sword off its hooks to punctuate 
  a tale or quell any brawls that break out among the lumberjacks that 
  commonly patronize it. The tavern itself has been dug halfway into 
  the ground so that although it appears low ceilinged from outside, on 
  the inside it rises a full ten feet to a barrel-shaped turf roof. A central 
  trenaiL
  by Liz “HerosBackpack” Smith
  Art by Russ Akred
  
  24
  firepit both warms and lights the room, although candles and torches 
  are available if anyone asks for a better light. Despite the rough, plain 
  appearance of the tavern the fare is good quality and personally tested 
  by Regin to make sure it stays that way.
  The Runty Rats: Set beside the west bank dock, this inn spirals up a 
  tree in a series of platforms and ladders, and is the favored haunt of the 
  gnome river teams who guide the log rafts down the river to Losthome. 
  With every platform and ladder a different color, the inn is also one of 
  the few bright buildings in town and a source of conflict between the 
  Guardians (who want it to blend in) and the owner Skeggie Risteljaf. 
  Although Skeggie usually leaves the day to day running of it to his 
  son Audisil Risteljaf (NG male gnome rogue 2), Skeggie is not above 
  using his position as raftcaptain to get his own way, threatening to 
  have all the river teams go on strike unless they can have their inn 
  the way they want it. After all, Skeggie claims every time, nature uses 
  bright colors like that every time a flower opens. Why shouldn’t people 
  do the same?
  Winding Weft: Built around a tree, with long passages sprawling 
  out from it like the legs of a giant spider, and using the tree’s branches 
  as living storage and ropewalk anchors, this angular shop specialises in 
  all types of weaving and spinning, from the rough cord made from bast 
  fibres and used to tie the log rafts together, to fine embroidery thread 
  and silk rope. Run by the lovers Meldof Jorund (CG male human 
  expert 8), a specialist in rope and Ludin Hakkon (NG male human 
  cleric (Shelyn) 5), who concentrates more on cloth and tapestries, the 
  Winding Weft also has a shrine to Shelyn tucked nearly out of sight 
  behind coils of rope and bales of cloth. Drapes on the shrine’s walls 
  alternate between the best of Ludin’s tapestries and fine cloth similar 
  to the dividers in the Floating 
  Forest but woven in fall colors 
  rather than shades of green. 
  Above the shrine, where a breeze 
  can catch it and set it playing, 
  hangs a set of windchimes. 
  ENCOUNTERS
  Poison! 
  Several 
  traders 
  have apparently fainted after 
  dining at the Floating Forest. 
  Attempted 
  healing 
  of 
  the 
  third trader discovered that 
  he had been poisoned with oil 
  of taggit. Halla suspects that 
  one of her rival apprentices is 
  framing her in an attempt to 
  get her position running the 
  inn and although she is skilled 
  enough to use purify food and 
  drink on the meals without 
  problems, the wines served 
  with it are more difficult. She 
  tasks the PCs with finding and 
  removing the culprit in any way 
  necessary.
  Strikebreakers The season’s 
  last load of logs urgently needs 
  to reach Lasthome in time 
  to join the booms there, but 
  Skeggie has carried out his 
  threats and Trenail’s river teams 
  are on strike. The PCs must 
  enter Trenail quietly, collect the 
  logs and raft them down the 
  river by themselves. 
  Treant A treant is stalking 
  the Guardians as traitors, after 
  encountering lumberjacks on 
  the edge of Trenail’s territory. 
  The PCs must mediate between 
  treant and druids if Trenail is to 
  survive.  B 
  
  25
  
  P
  26
  E
  rlho Dyndarion, halfing bard, raconteur, and noted expert 
  on the history and identification of magical arms, 
  published his book Weapons of Legend in 4701 AR. 
  Erlho’s book includes the descriptions of many unique 
  enchanted weapons, which the bard compiled during his 
  travels throughout Avistan and Garund in the latter half of 
  the 4600s. What follows are two excerpts from Weapons 
  of Legend describing a pair of weapons from the Lands of 
  the Linnorm Kings: a troll-slaying bastard sword and a 
  sentient battle axe.
  HRAKALGRIM
  Names: 
  Hrakalgrim, 
  Trollsbane, 
  Onund’s 
  Vengeance
  Description: Hrakalgrim is a +3 mighty cleaving 
  troll bane bastard sword. The broad, two-edged blade 
  is 50 inches long and made of dull, oily-grey steel. 
  The sword’s pommel is another 21 inches long, 
  carved from a single piece of mammoth ivory. Set in 
  the pommel’s tip is a large emerald of exquisite cut 
  and clarity, easily worth a jarl’s ransom. The blade 
  itself sheds no light, but the emerald glows with 
  a pale green radiance when the sword is drawn. 
  This radiance becomes as bright as a lantern if 
  trolls approach within 1,000 feet. Aside from a 
  forge-mark that identifies the sword’s maker as 
  the legendary Ulfen smith Onund the Blind, 
  Hrakalgrim bears no other runes or markings.
  Hrakalgrim 
  automatically 
  suppresses 
  the 
  regeneration ability of all trolls within 30 feet of 
  its wielder. Additionally, whenever Hrakalgrim 
  slays a troll, the wielder immediately heals 5 hit 
  points or gains 5 temporary hit points for 1 hour 
  (up to a maximum number of temporary hit points 
  equal to the wielder’s full normal hit points). The 
  sword has neither alignment nor sentience.
  History: Hrakalgrim is an ancient weapon, and 
  has been mentioned in Ulfen tales going back two 
  millennia. First mentioned in Vingraf’s Tales of 
  Snow and Crimson, the sword was the creation of 
  Onund the Blind who forged Hrakalgrim and two 
  dozen lesser troll-slaying blades on the Isle of Aegos to 
  counter a massive troll incursion that plagued the island 
  in the early 2700s. The sword was first wielded by Onund’s daughter 
  Breyna, who used it to slay the troll-king who had eaten her mother 
  and three brothers, Grogelmok. Before Breyna died of old age, she 
  gave the sword to her son Idain, who perished when the Choking 
  Death swept through western Avistan in the summer of 2742 AR. 
  Idain was the last of his line. It is rumored that one of his servants 
  carried the sword away from Aegos in secret.
  Hrakalgrim surfaced again in 3312 AR in Kalsgard, in the hands 
  of a hulking Kellid mercenary who called himself Thral. The blade 
  was recognized by the sage Ujan the Grey who tried unsuccessfully 
  to purchase the sword from the mercenary. By year’s end, Thral left 
  Kalsgard to join his companions fighting the Winter War in Irrisen, 
  where it is presumed he met his fate on one battlefield or another.
  Though Thral never returned to Kalsgard, Hrakalgrim eventually 
  did. In 4109 AR, a sword matching Hrakalgrim’s description was 
  seen in the possession of the magus Tarna Narsdottir, who used the 
  blade to slay a Varisian sorcerer during an argument at one of the 
  city’s riverfront inns. A year later, Tarna was murdered by 
  bugbears in the Grungir Forest. It is unclear if she had the 
  sword with her at the time.
  In 4391 AR, the warrior-skald Aengar of Bildt 
  appeared briefly in Trollheim with Hrakalgrim, 
  as noted by the wizard Kragnulf of the Iron Eye 
  whom Aengar paid to identify the sword’s powers. 
  Kragnulf’s journal mentioned that Aengar paid him 
  with platinum coins minted in the semi-mythical 
  city of Nithveil, and that the warrior-skald claimed 
  to have stolen Hrakalgrim from one of the city’s 
  fey inhabitants. How the sword—and Aengar for 
  that matter—found its way to Nithveil and back 
  again is unknown, for Aengar would say nothing 
  more about his experiences. Shortly after Aengar 
  left Trollheim he was never seen again.
  Erlho Dyndarion saw the blade himself while 
  visiting Jol in the spring of 4689 AR. It was in 
  the possession of a young jarl from Antler Rock, 
  who had come to Jol for trade. This jarl, Njorak 
  by name, was unaware of the sword’s power or 
  history until Erlho revealed it to him. Six years 
  later, someone stole Hrakalgrim while Njorak 
  lay bedridden recovering from a battle-wound. 
  When Njorak came to his senses, the sword and 
  the thief were nowhere to be found. Since then, 
  Hrakalgrim’s whereabouts remain unknown.
  INGOLSDOTTIR
  Names: Ingolsdottir
  Description: Ingolsdottir is a sentient, chaotic 
  neutral +2 mithral keen thundering battle axe that 
  magically resizes to fit the hands of its wielder. The 
  wickedly curved axe-blade shimmers dramatically 
  in bright light, but the axe itself sheds no magical 
  radiance. Etched onto the back of the axe-blade’s 
  spine is the name “Ingolsdottir” in Skaldic runes. 
  The haft is made of fire-blackened oak and has 
  a handgrip wrapped in white dragon hide and 
  fine mithral wire.
  Ingolsdottir is intelligent, but not particularly 
  clever (Int 6, Wis 10, Cha 14, Ego 14), and 
  claims to only speak Skald (though she does 
  hero’s hoard:
  WEAPONS OF LEGEND
  by Tom “Tom Qadim” Phillips
  Art by Carlos Torreblanca
  
  27
  seem to understand the Common tongue). She has the personality 
  and voice of an Ulfen warrior-woman who is always eager for a fight. 
  She is loud, brash, and boastful, and enjoys singing bawdy songs 
  and trading off-color insults with her wielder or anyone else within 
  earshot. Ingolsdottir is also a pathological liar. She lies constantly, 
  especially about her origin and history.
  While grasping Ingolsdottir’s handgrip, her wielder can cast endure 
  elements and obscuring mist each three times per day, and alter winds 
  and haunting mists each once per day as a 12th level caster. 
  Additionally, six times per day, Ingolsdottir’s 
  wielder can touch a flagon’s worth 
  of any liquid and transform 
  it into mead. Ingolsdottir 
  has darkvision to a 
  distance 
  of 
  60 
  feet, though she 
  cannot bestow 
  this ability 
  on 
  her 
  wielder.
  History: 
  Ingolsdottir’s 
  origins are an 
  enigma. 
  It 
  is 
  not known who 
  forged her and 
  Ulfen legends shed 
  no light on who 
  “Ingol” was or why 
  he crafted such a 
  bizarre weapon. To 
  add to the mystery, 
  Ingolsdottir always 
  lies when asked 
  about her maker or she evades the 
  s u b j e c t 
  entirely. Though most sages believe her to be quite ancient, 
  Ingolsdottir only first appeared on record in 4311 AR, when the 
  ranger Sempet Sixfingers brought her to Kalsgard to satisfy a 
  weregild he owed to King Grot the Noseless (an ogre having 
  bitten off his nose) for the accidental slaying of one of the king’s 
  servants. Sempet claimed to have looted the weapon from a rime-
  covered ruin on the Isle of Kalva, but his claim was never verified.
  Grot took an immediate liking to Ingolsdottir, who he half-
  jokingly referred to as his “favorite wife”, and wielded her 
  throughout his brief reign. He famously used Ingolsdottir to slay 
  the ice linnorm Cracklefang, who roused his anger by devouring 
  the residents of three steadings under his protection in the harsh 
  winter of 4316. When Grot perished from Cracklefang’s death 
  curse, Ingolsdottir was claimed by one of his sword-brothers, who 
  promptly lost the blade when frost giants ambushed the party 
  returning the king’s body to Kalsgard. Only the warrior Ingvak 
  Gnarlhand returned to Kalsgard alive and he did so without the 
  axe or his king’s corpse.
  After presumably being passed from one frost giant chieftain to 
  another, Ingolsdottir eventually fell into the hands of the notorious 
  frost giant jarl Thrivnir the Insatiable, whose motley army of giants, 
  trolls, and ogres plagued the lands north of Kalsgard throughout the 
  mid-4300s. Thrivnir’s reign of terror finally ended in 4360 AR when 
  an unnamed party of adventurers  killed him and claimed the axe. 
  Ingolsdottir was traded to the wizard Eranir of Kalsgard in exchange 
  for magical training for the party’s spellcasters. Eranir in turn soon 
  sold the axe to the half-elven ranger Munán Ravenswinter.
  Munán took Ingolsdottir with him when he sailed to Arcadia in 
  4365 AR, where he spent four decades exploring that continent’s 
  northern wilderness. He returned to Kalsgard an old man, and gave 
  the axe to his grandson Bjorgren, before setting sail a final time for 
  Valenhall. Bjorgren sadly met his end barely a year after that in 4406 
  AR, when he and his companions fell prey to a remorhaz somewhere 
  in the northwestern Icemark.
  Ingolsdottir appeared again briefly in Halgrim on the Isle of 
  Battlewall in 4621 AR, this time in the possession of a young warrior 
  named Yndreg who used Ingolsdottir to kill a pair of hill giants that 
  had attacked several local farmsteads. When Yndreg presented the 
  giants’ heads to the elders of Halgrim to collect the promised bounty, 
  the wizard Alganan observed that Yndreg was completely under 
  Ingolsdottir’s mental control. After collecting his reward, Yndreg 
  left Halgrim for the mainland and was not seen again. This was the 
  last recorded sighting of Ingolsdottir remain unknown, but Erlho 
  Dyndarion keenly notes that her constant lies and deceptions could 
  help hide her whereabouts. B
  
  P
  28
  N
  ot all descendants of dragons want, or even have the 
  capability, to develop innate casting abilities. Like 
  dragon disciples, the so-called dragon-blooded 
  seek to emulate their noble ancestry, not in magical 
  insight, but in physical prowess. Some dragon-blooded 
  retain spellcasters—almost exclusively dragons—to 
  perform rituals of transformation. Others meditate 
  upon ancient relics of draconic origin. Either way 
  requires research and knowledge about dragons, and 
  always grueling trials.
  Role: This prestige class is for those who want to play 
  a character with the might of the dragons in melee combat. 
  Dragon-blooded develop their draconic abilities with the 
  ultimate goal of becoming part dragon.
  Alignment: Dragon-blooded can be of any 
  alignment. Most follow the ethics and morals of the 
  type of dragon they seek to emulate.
  Hit Die: d12
  Requirements
  To qualify to become dragon-blooded, a character 
  must fulfill all the following criteria.
  Race: Any non-dragon.
  Base Attack Bonus: +4.
  Feats: Draconic Ancestry or Eldritch Heritage 
  (draconic bloodline) feat. No feat is required if the character 
  is a sorcerer with the draconic bloodline.
  Skills: Knowledge (arcana) 5 ranks.
  Language: Draconic.
  Special: A character cannot take levels in dragon-blooded if he 
  has levels in dragon disciple. A dragon-blooded cannot take levels in 
  dragon disciple.
  Class Skills
  The dragon-blooded’s 
  class skills (and the key 
  ability for each skill) 
  are Diplomacy 
  (Cha), Fly 
  (Dex), 
  the dragon-
  BLooded
  by Keith “Sir Hexen Ineptus” Doughty
  Art by Isaac Royo
  Table: Dragon-blooded
  Level 
  Base  
  Fort  
  Ref   
  Will  
  Special
   
  Bonus 
  Save 
  Save 
  Save 
   
  Attack 
  1 
  +0 
  +1 
  +0 
  +1 
  Draconic skin (+1, resist 5), dragon weaponry, blood’s spell (1/day) 
  2 
  +1 
  +1 
  +1 
  +1 
  Ability boost (Str +2)
  3 
  +2 
  +2 
  +1 
  +2 
  Bloodline feat, breath weapon (2/day)
  4 
  +3 
  +2 
  +1 
  +2 
  Ability boost (Str +2), draconic skin (+1, resist 10)
  5 
  +3 
  +3 
  +2 
  +3 
  Blindsense 30 ft., dragon weaponry (magic), blood’s spell (2/day)
  6 
  +4 
  +3 
  +2 
  +3 
  Ability boost (Con +2), breath weapon (+1d8, unlimited)
  7 
  +5 
  +4 
  +2 
  +4 
  Bloodline feat, draconic skin (+1, resist 20) 
  8 
  +5 
  +4 
  +3 
  +4 
  Ability boost (Con +2, Int +2), wings
  9 
  +6 
  +5 
  +3 
  +5 
  Breath weapon (+1d8), dragon weaponry (energy), blood’s spell (3/day)
  10 
  +7 
  +5 
  +3 
  +5 
  Blindsense 60 ft., dragon apotheosis
  
  29
  Knowledge (all; each skill taken individually) (Int), Perception (Wis), 
  and Spellcraft (Int). 
  Skill Ranks at Each Level: 2 + Int modifier.
  Class Features
  All of the following are class features of the dragon-blooded prestige 
  class.
  Weapon and Armor Proficiency: Dragon-blooded gain no 
  proficiency with any weapon or armor.
  Heritage of Dragons: At 1st level, you must select one of the 
  chromatic or metallic dragon types. This choice cannot be changed. A 
  number of your abilities grant resistances, spell-like abilities, and deal 
  damage based on your dragon type, as noted on the following table.
  Table: Heritage of Dragons – dragon types
  Dragon  Energy          Breath 
               Spell-Like
  Type  
  Type 
         Shape 
             Ability
  Black 
  Acid 
         60-foot line             Speak With Animals
  Blue 
  Electricity     60-foot line            Ghost Sound
  Green 
  Acid 
         30-foot cone             Entangle
  Red 
  Fire 
         30-foot cone            Detect Magic
  White 
  Cold 
         30-foot cone            Fog Cloud
  Brass 
  Fire 
         60-foot line            Speak With Animals
  Bronze Electricity     60-foot line            Create Food and Water
  Copper Acid 
         60-foot line            Grease
  Gold 
  Fire 
         30-foot cone            Bless
  Silver 
  Cold 
         30-foot cone            Feather Fall
  Draconic Skin (Ex): At 1st level, a dragon-blooded gains resistance 
  5 against his energy type 
  (see Table: Heritage of 
  Dragons – dragon types) 
  and a +1 natural armor 
  bonus. At 4th level, his 
  energy resistance increases 
  to 10 and natural armor 
  bonus increases to +2. At 
  7th level, his energy 
  resistance increases to 20 
  and natural armor bonus 
  increases to +3.
  Dragon 
  Weaponry 
  (Su): At 1st level, a 
  dragon-blooded can grow 
  claws and fangs as a free 
  action. These are treated 
  as 
  natural 
  weapons, 
  allowing him to make two claw attacks and one bite attack as a full 
  attack action using his full base attack bonus. Each claw deals 1d4
  1d4 points of damage plus his Strength modifier (1d3 if the dragon-
  blooded is Small). His bite deals 1d6 points of damage (1d4 if the 
  dragon-blooded is Small), plus 1–1/2 times his Strength modifier. A 
  dragon-blooded can use these natural attacks for a number of rounds
  per day equal to the dragon-blooded’s level + his Charisma modifier.
  These rounds do not need to be consecutive.
  At 5th level, these natural attacks are considered magic weapons for 
  the purpose of overcoming DR. In addition, the damage increases by 
  one step.
  At 9th level, these natural weapons become permanent, and also deal
  an additional 1d6 points of damage of the dragon-blooded’s energy 
  type on a successful hit.
  A dragon-blooded may take the Greater Weapon Focus, Greater 
  Weapon Specialization, and Weapon Specialization feats for claw and 
  bite attacks as if his dragon-blooded levels were fighter levels; dragon-
  blooded levels stack with fighter levels for qualifying for these feats.
  Blood’s Spell (Sp): A dragon-blooded develops limited magical 
  abilities. He gains the use of a spell-like ability determined by his 
  dragon type (see Table: Heritage of Dragons – dragon types). A dragon-
  blooded can use this ability 1/day at 1st level. He gains an additional 
  use per day at 5th and 9th levels. A dragon-blooded’s caster level is 
  equal to his class level.
  Ability Boost (Ex): As a dragon-blooded gains levels in this prestige 
  class, his ability scores increase as noted on Table: Dragon-blooded. 
  These increases stack and are gained as if through level advancement.
  Bloodline Feat: At 3rd level, and again at 7th level, a dragon-
  blooded receives one bonus feat, chosen from a list available to draconic 
  bloodline sorcerers. The dragon-blooded must meet the prerequisites 
  for these bonus feats. 
  Breath Weapon (Su): At 3rd level, a dragon-blooded gains a breath 
  weapon. This breath weapon deals 1d8 points of damage + the dragon-
  blooded’s level + his Charisma modifier. Those caught in the area of 
  the breath receive a Reflex save for half damage. The DC of this save 
  is equal to 10 + the dragon-blooded’s level + his Charisma modifier. 
  The shape of the breath weapon and type of damage depend on the 
  dragon type (see Table: Heritage of Dragons – dragon types). At 3rd 
  level, a dragon-blooded can use this ability twice per day, but no more 
  than once every 2d4 rounds. At 6th level, the breath weapon damage 
  dice increases by +1d8, and the dragon-blooded can use this ability at 
  will (but still no more than once every 2d4 rounds). At 9th level, the 
  damage increases by another +1d8.
  Blindsense (Ex): At 5th level, the dragon-blooded gains blindsense 
  with a range of 30 feet. Using nonvisual senses the dragon-blooded 
  notices things he cannot see. He usually does not need to make 
  Perception checks to notice and pinpoint the location of creatures 
  within range of his blindsense ability, provided that he has line of 
  effect to that creature.
  Any opponent the dragon-blooded cannot see still has total 
  concealment against him, and the dragon-blooded still has the normal 
  miss chance when attacking foes that have concealment. Visibility still 
  affects the movement of a creature with blindsense. A creature with 
  blindsense is still denied its Dexterity bonus to Armor Class against 
  attacks from creatures it cannot see. At 10th level, the range of this 
  ability increases to 60 feet.
  Wings (Ex): At 7th level a dragon-blooded grows a set of draconic 
  wings. Unless the dragon-blooded has a better fly speed, he can fly at 
  twice his base land speed (average maneuverability).
  Dragon Apotheosis: At 10th level, a dragon-blooded becomes 
  part dragon. He is forevermore treated as a dragon rather than as 
  a humanoid (or whatever his creature type was) for the purpose of 
  spells and magical effects. His breath weapon can now be used once 
  every 1d4 rounds. He gains a +4 bonus to Strength and a +2 bonus to 
  Charisma and Constitution. His natural armor bonus increases to a 
  total of +4. The dragon-blooded acquires low-light vision, darkvision 
  60 ft., immunity to sleep and paralysis effects, and immunity to the 
  energy type used by his breath weapon.
  The negative effects of aging are removed retroactively as the dragon-
  blooded is reborn as a young adult half-dragon. He even re-grows any 
  lost limbs or organs. The dragon-blooded’s aging seems to stop as his 
  life span now matches that of his dragon type (unless his happens to be 
  longer). The dragon-blooded still acquires bonuses from aging at his 
  original rate; he will eventually receive the minuses for aging, but at a 
  much slower rate. B
  Feat
  Draconic Ancestry
  You have draconic blood in you 
  that shows in a lot of little ways.
  Prerequisite: Cha 11, taken 
  only at 1st level
  Benefit: Appraise is a class skill 
  for you. You gain a +1 bonus on 
  saving throws versus fear effects. 
  For every 2 Hit Die you possess, 
  you gain an additional +1 hit point.
  
  P
  30
  LOC ATION—TROLLHEIM, 
  THE LAND OF THE LINNORM 
  KINGS
  Young Egril Skargilsson’s proudest 
  moment was being allowed to 
  accompany his father on the walrus 
  hunt, but it was to be the last time 
  they would see each other alive. His 
  father’s pursuit of his prey disturbed 
  an angry sea-hag who ensorcelled 
  him and compelled him to slay his 
  companions. Egril alone survived, 
  separated from the main party on a 
  drifting ice-floe, watching his father’s 
  bloodied form kneeling at the hag’s feet 
  like an obedient pet.
  From that day, his fury led him into 
  the harshest terrain and weather, retrieving 
  the heads of trolls, winter wolves, and other 
  predators, in his search for the hag.
  His exploits gained him the leadership of 
  his tribe, and he was entrusted the heirloom 
  of a former ruler: the axe Käärmetappaja. Tall 
  as a man, its head as broad as his shoulders, the 
  axe is rumored to have routed the great linnorm 
  Vyalldehun and decapitated a score of his line.
  Egril could not rest in councils and meetings, and 
  continued leading warbands into the waste following 
  rumors to the glaciers on the coast west of Kalsgard. 
  Last winter, they discovered the glacial cave of the 
  wrinkled sea-hag, now more skilled in sorcery. Egril 
  left her slaves to his men, pursuing her deep into the 
  ice to a cavern filled with loot from a score of ships. 
  There she bargained for her life with a talisman shaped 
  from a linnorm’s claw, which she claimed would point 
  to treasure beyond his wildest dreams. Egril took the 
  bauble then grimly hacked off her limbs. He fed her, still 
  alive, to his hounds while she screamed curses at him and his line. 
  He found his father’s body in the cave, and brought it back home, 
  while his men took the haul and distributed it among the tribe as per 
  the custom.
  Egril is unaware of the talisman’s true cursed nature. The claw still 
  retains the soul, greed, and malice of one of Vyalldehun’s brood. It 
  is consumed with hatred at the bearer of the axe, and obsessed with 
  retrieving the treasure which the hag had stolen from its undersea lair. 
  While the hag was able to benefit from the shapeshifting claw without 
  falling under the linnorm’s sway, poor Egril’s mind was easy to enslave, 
  despite training his will so as not to end like his father. Every night, the 
  claw waits for his defenses to drop, then secretly attacks his mind; if 
  successful, he marches out into the snow to transform with no memory 
  of doing so. Each morning Egril roars his anger at the cowardly, unseen 
  foe.
  Egril’s tribe is now terrified of a killer who stalks the night, 
  shattering their doors, devouring their people. His own son and several 
  cousins have died at the claws of the beast, 
  their homes looted. Egril-Linnorm 
  weaL or woe: 
  the CUrsed hoard
  by Robert “Snorter” Feather
  Art by Hugo Solis
  
  31
  hides the loot in a camouflaged pit several miles north, capped with a 
  disc of ice and shoveled snow (Perception DC 35 to discover, or DC 
  30 from above).
  Some tribesmen whisper that the hag Egril slew was a daughter of 
  Baba Yaga, and many have fled, believing the tribe to be doomed. 
  Their mangled bodies are sometimes found by travelers, who have 
  spread the word that help is needed in Egril’s Hall.
  eGril WitCHSlaYer                                                       Cr 9
  XP 6.400
  Male human barbarian 10
  N Medium humanoid (human)
  Init +2; Senses Perception +12
  DEFENSE
  AC 18, touch 11, flat-footed 15 (+7 armor, +2 Dex, +1 
  dodge, –2 rage)
  hp 120 (10d12+50)
  Fort +12, Ref +5, Will +7
  Defensive Abilities improved uncanny 
  dodge, trap sense +3; DR 2/—; 
  Resist fire 10
  OFFENSE
  Speed 30 ft. (45 ft. without 
  armor)
  Melee +1 dragon bane 
  greataxe +17/+12 
  (1d12+9/x3)
  Special Attacks rage 
  (25 rounds/day), rage 
  powers (clear mind, no 
  escape, quick reflexes, 
  swift foot, unexpected 
  strike)
  TACTICS
  During Combat Egril 
  prefers to target enemy 
  casters, bypassing 
  their bodyguards, 
  and tempting them 
  to try withdrawal. He 
  relishes their fear when 
  unsuccessful as he cuts 
  them down far from the main 
  combat.
  Egril is unafraid of being 
  surrounded, and enjoys tricking 
  the enemy into provoking 
  attacks of opportunity, 
  mistakenly believing this 
  will free an ally to cast 
  unhindered, or when they 
  rush him (possibly to save 
  their caster), only to be cut 
  down via unexpected strike.
  Morale Egril is fearful 
  of mental domination, 
  and insists upon his skald 
  protecting him from such 
  tactics before every battle, and 
  if possible, preparing multiple fail-
  safes. If this protection is lost (such as 
  from dispel magic), his response will be to either go all out to 
  kill the one responsible, or order a fall back, depending on how 
  close he believes he is to victory.
  Base Statistics When not raging Egril has AC 20, touch 13, 
  flat-footed 17; hp 100; Fort +10, Will +5; Speed 30 ft. (40 
  ft. without armor); Melee +1 dragon bane greataxe +15/+10 
  (1d12+7/x3); Str 18, Con 16; CMB +14; CMD 26; Skills Climb 
  +8, Swim +6.
  STATISTICS
  Str 22, Dex 14, Con 20, Int 10, Wis 11, Cha 11
  Base Atk +10; CMB +16; CMD 28
  Feats Cleave, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Iron Will, Mobility, Power 
  Attack
  Skills Acrobatics +7, Climb +10, Diplomacy 
  +5, Handle Animal +5, Intimidate +4, 
  Knowledge (geography) +7, 
  
  32
  Knowledge (nature) +7, Perception +12, Ride +6, Stealth +7, 
  Survival +12, Swim +8.
  Languages Common, Skald
  Combat Gear potion of protection from evil, potion of resist 
  energy (cold); Other Gear Käärmetappaja (+1 dragon bane 
  greataxe), +1 light fortification breastplate, Claw of the 
  Linnorm, boots of the winterlands, headband of inspired 
  wisdom +2, minor ring of energy resistance (fire)
  * Egril has twice the normal value of equipment for an NPC of his 
  level.
  eGril – liNNorm form                                                 Cr 9
  XP 6.400
  Male human cursed polymorphed barbarian 10
  NE Large humanoid (human) 
  Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +12
  DEFENSE
  AC 16, touch 10, flat-footed 13 (+6 natural armor, +2 Dex, +1 
  dodge, –2 rage, –1 size)
  hp 140 (10d12+70)
  Fort +14, Ref +5, Will +7
  Defensive Abilities improved uncanny dodge, trap sense +3; 
  DR 5/magic, 2/—; Resist cold 20, fire 10
  Weakness vulnerability to fire
  OFFENSE
  Speed 45 ft., climb 40 ft., swim 60 ft.
  Melee bite +18 (2d6+9), 2 claws +18 (1d8+9), tail slap +13 
  (1d8+4)
  Special Attacks breath weapon (2/day, 40 ft. cone, 8d8 cold, 
  Reflex half DC 20, recharge 1d4 rounds) rage (25 rounds/day), 
  rage powers (clear mind, no escape, quick reflexes, swift foot, 
  unexpected strike)
  TACTICS
  During Combat Egril-Linnorm does not possess the linnorm’s 
  supernatural flight, but is an excellent climber and swimmer. 
  Given the duration of the 
  change, he will take 
  control as near to a 
  settlement as possible, so 
  as to kill, escape, and 
  return to normal.
  He is immune to small 
  fires, thanks to his ring, 
  but still fears larger 
  flames, and will seek 
  to destroy their source. 
  Otherwise, his primary 
  targets will be anyone 
  possessing a portion 
  of his hoard, anyone 
  obstructing him, and 
  family or friends of Egril.
  While retaining most 
  feats and rage powers, 
  his larger size often 
  makes it difficult for Egril-Linnorm to utilize them, so he will 
  attempt to break up any formations with his breath, then tear 
  apart anyone who still blocks his path, focusing all attacks on 
  one target until dead, so as to cause fear and dismay in any 
  witnesses.
  Morale Egril-Linnorm knows how long he has to complete his kill 
  and does not tarry. He attempts to destroy anyone he believes 
  capable of entrapping him, but if unable to do so, he flees, 
  hiding in snow or water.
  Base Statistics When not raging Egril-Linnorm has AC 18, touch 
  12, flat-footed 15; hp 120; Fort +12, Will +5; Speed 40 ft., 
  climb 40 ft., swim 60 ft.; Melee bite +16 (2d6+7), 2 claws +16 
  (1d8+6), tail slap +12 (1d8+3); Str 24, Con 20; CMB +18; 
  CMD 30; Skills Climb +11, Swim +9.
  STATISTICS
  Str 28, Dex 14, Con 24, Int 10, Wis 11, Cha 11
  Base Atk +10; CMB +20; CMD 32
  Feats Cleave, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Iron Will, Mobility, Power 
  Attack
  Skills Acrobatics +7 (+11 to jump), Climb +13, Diplomacy +5, 
  Handle Animal +5, Intimidate +4, Knowledge (geography) +7, 
  Knowledge (nature) +7, Perception +12, Ride +6, Stealth +7, 
  Survival +12, Swim +11.
  Languages Common, Skald
  Gear none (the following equipment is still active while merged: 
  boots of the winterlands, headband of inspired wisdom +2, ring 
  of lesser fire resistance)  B
  Fan Art: 
  Tyler Clark
  CLAW OF THE LINNORM
  This cursed bone talisman 
  cannot be voluntarily discarded. 
  The Claw of the Linnorm can 
  cast the following spells on its 
  possessor each once per day (CL 
  17): dominate person (duration 
  17 minutes), form of the dragon 
  II (Large linnorm; 40-foot cone 
  of cold, resist cold 20, vulnerable 
  to fire, no wings, climb 40 ft., 
  swim 60 ft.). The Claw may have 
  additional powers at the GM’s 
  discretion.
  
  33
  
  P
  34
  S
  omehow, you’ve gotten old without dying.” Imri reached up, 
  lightly tugging on Jergal’s flowing beard. “But, I see more salt 
  than pepper in your mane.”
  Jergal smiled softly at the woman resting across his lap, his grey eyes 
  warm with concern, “Save your strength.”
  Imri shook her head weakly, her hand falling back to her side, her 
  silver hair flowing across Jergal’s fur and rune-covered 
  breastplate, “What’s left is fading quickly.” Their 
  pose was a romantic embrace, marred only 
  by Imri’s wounds. “How is it that you have 
  black hair, Ulfen dog?”
  Jergal chuckled softly, his deep, gruff 
  voice sounding more bark than laugh, 
  “Dog I have always been to you, and 
  Dog I remain. Dogs are fiercest when 
  defending loved ones, and loyal until 
  death. Any that wish you harm will 
  always find my teeth at their throat.” 
  “Good Boy,” she chided. Imri 
  closed her brilliant blue eyes, “I 
  never doubted your ferocity…” 
  her eyes fluttered open, their 
  brilliance dulled with pain, 
  “Nor your loyalty, even at 
  the gates of death itself....” 
  A soft laugh began in 
  her chest, but turned 
  into a sickly gurgle. Her 
  body wracked with a fit 
  of coughing as blood 
  flecked her perfect lips. 
  Her golden skin washed a 
  shade paler. She struggled to 
  sit upright, but her body would 
  not move.
  Jergal saw her discomfort and 
  shifted, pulling Imri so she rested with 
  her back upon his chest; her head nestled 
  between his shoulder and neck.
  “Your beard itches, Dog.”
  “Mind the fleas, Lady.”
  Imri coughed again, but Jergal knew it was meant to be a laugh.
  He cleared his throat, speaking while staring at the far wall of the 
  ruined keep, “My mother was a Varisian slave, my father a proud 
  Ulfen lord. My skin and eyes are his, my hair and beard are hers.”
  “Your beard is hers?” Imri’s laughing cough was softer, and her 
  breathing was growing labored.
  Jergal frowned, “You’ll laugh yourself to death.” 
  “It must’ve been quite the scandal, your father, your mother, and 
  her beard.”
  Jergal snorted, admiring Imri’s attempts at humor, and he wrapped 
  his arms around her. But as his gaze shifted, any trace of joy fled. 
  Visions of the too-recent past came unbidden to his mind:
  Jergal hovered behind Vorn as the dwarf worked on the massive lock. 
  Like everything else in the frost giant’s hold, it was oversized and more 
  challenging than it should be. “Vorn?” Jergal asked impatiently. 
  “If ya think ya can do any blazin’ better yer welcome ta try.” Vorn’s 
  withering look showed his frustration. “It’s like sticking yer hand in the 
  arse of a dragon ta pull its tooth.”
  Imri drifted forward and ran her hand over the leering face carved into 
  the stone wall beside the door. “It’s inscribed with runes I don’t recognize.” 
  She glanced at the gargoyle-like face, pondering the meaning of the sigils 
  surrounding it. 
  “Get back!” Jergal pushed Imri out of the way as a gout of orange flame 
  spat from the gaping mouth.
  Imri pushed herself up on an elbow, “That wasn’t my fault.” 
  Jergal shot a glance at the dwarf.
  Vorn shrugged, “Eh, yer both fine. Was easier to trip the damn 
  thing an’ be done with it than ta keep standin’ around here in 
  the freeze with this thrice-damned lock.”
  Merros moved up, wrapping himself deeper in 
  his robes against the cold of the Linnorm lands. 
  He peered at the face, his red eyes examining the 
  carvings. “It’s a warning.” The tiefling turned 
  towards Vorn, “Something bullheaded dwarves 
  should heed.”
  “It matters not. The way to the portal is 
  open, and we need to make haste to this keep’s 
  twin.” Davik helped Imri to her feet and began 
  brushing snow off of her. “This is our greatest 
  hunt, and it will be a boon to everyone if this 
  works as planned.” He kissed the wooden 
  carving of Erastil’s Bow that hung around 
  his neck and smiled. 
  Fadrien stepped lightly through the 
  snow, her long, slender ears flicking 
  in annoyance as she scowled at 
  Vorn, “Assuming the dwarf 
  doesn’t get us all killed before 
  it begins.”
  Jergal stood and patted 
  her shoulder, “Oh, I’m sure 
  he’ll wait. Killing us now 
  means more work for him 
  later.”
  Jergal’s thoughts returned to the 
  present. He was still sitting with his armored 
  back to the chill stone wall of what was once the Great Hall 
  of a giant’s fortress. Cradling Imri, he swept his eyes past her armored 
  shoulder. They followed bright red trails of blood. Crimson covered 
  the walls opposite where they sat, the smears ending near the floor, 
  beneath the crumpled form of an attractive elven woman. Her fine 
  and delicate frame was twisted and broken, her quiver of black 
  arrows scattered across the snow-covered floor, her ornate warbow—
  the Linnorm’s 
  CUrse
  by John C. “ValmarTheMad” Rock
  Art by Tanya Sangsnit
  
  35
  Radiance—in two golden halves. Fadrien Jaylyn, Ranger of the 
  Winterwall, would never again draw breath or bow in this world.
  “Vorn, damn you, get up!” Fadrien drew and fired more rapidly than 
  most eyes could follow, each black arrow she loosed streaked from her 
  bow as a bolt from the sun itself, transformed into a glowing ray that 
  pocked the fell beast’s hide. Each strike blasted out a massive crater that 
  smoldered in the frigid cold.
  Vorn struggled to gather his wits, but blood covered his face and ran 
  into his eyes. He flailed about to find his blade or his blunderbuss, but 
  they were both buried beneath heavy rocks—remnants of the former 
  ceiling. The stones had slammed Vorn to the floor when the beast’s head 
  smashed through the roof of the Great Hall. Now, the dwarf was trapped, 
  and he couldn’t feel his legs. 
  His blurred vision was enough to discern the flashing shots from 
  Radiance, “Fadrien…help me…”
  Fadrien quit firing and ran as quickly as her fleet elven feet could carry 
  her, nimbly flitting across the rubble until she slid to a halt beside Vorn. 
  She reached out and grasped his hand, trying to pull him from the rubble, 
  her eyes opening wide in shock as the beast’s great spiked tail slammed 
  into her back, piercing her and throwing her across the width of the hall.
  Fadrien’s vivid green eyes and long, cascading platinum hair had 
  been in Jergal’s earliest childhood memories, memories dearer than 
  any of his father or mother. Her lithe and slender shoulders carried 
  him through his troubled youth. Her fine wrists and soft voice 
  instructed his clumsy hands in the way of the sword and the bow. 
  Jergal had never learned what bond held her to his father’s 
  service, nor why she had spent years raising him to 
  adulthood. Now a pool of crimson blood coagulated 
  beneath her limp body, freezing in the chill winds 
  and biting snows that sliced through the gaping 
  hole in the shattered keep.
  He looked away, and focused his attention on 
  Imri, quelling the useless rage that threatened 
  to swallow his grief and consume him. “Yes, 
  my birth was quite the scandal, especially 
  since Father was married to someone else.” 
  He grinned mirthlessly, “Still, even a half-
  Varisian bastard can win honor—if he 
  overcomes the stain and status of his 
  birth.”
  “You have your honor, Dog.” Imri’s 
  voice was losing its crystalline clarity, 
  losing the bell-like purity Jergal had 
  come to love more than any sound 
  he’d heard in the past twenty-three 
  years. Speaking was clearly painful, yet 
  she continued, “Today you vanquished 
  Fellnorn the Dark, Dread Linnormlich of 
  Stormspear, Relic of the First World, Guardian of the Icebound Tarn, 
  and Undying Servant of the Frostborn Court. His death is your glory; 
  his death is your freedom…” Imri trailed off, out of breath. When it 
  returned, in slow, painful gasps, her voice was nearer to a whisper, 
  “How fare the others?” 
  Jergal’s grey eyes immediately swept to the crumpled form of 
  Fadrien and her broken bow. He swallowed the lump in his throat, 
  “They are well, My Lady Imri. Tonight, we will set a massive blaze in 
  the hearth, recount the day, and revel in our greatest victory to date.”
  Imri smiled weakly, “Brave as you are, your voice still trembles 
  when you lie.”
  “My Lady Imri, I—”
  “I am an Inquisitor of Iomedae, Dog, the same one your father 
  tasked you to obey and protect twenty-three years ago.” Her head 
  lolled more fully onto his shoulder, losing the strength to keep it 
  upright. “Do not…presume…to lie to me.” She cleared her throat, it 
  was scratchy and she was terribly thirsty, “Davik?”
  Davik raced to Fadrien’s side, his burning haste defying the age of his 
  bones and body. Lines of concern stitched across his face, deepening the 
  wrinkles. He reached out to Fadrien, his blue eyes shining with a spark of 
  divine light as his mouth began to utter the name of his god and ancient 
  words of power.
  But no sound escaped his voice, and no healing energy surged into 
  Fadrien’s still form. Instead, black tendrils of dark energy shot out from 
  the coiled form of the gargantuan beast raging overhead, and its fell energy 
  withered Davik’s tall, thin frame. 
  His skin collapsed and compressed onto his bones like that of a mummy, 
  his eyes shriveled from their sockets and then his body exploded into a 
  cascade of fine grey dust. 
  Jergal shook his head solemnly, “I would lie, but you would know 
  it. Davik, son of Nijal, Priest of Erastil forever walks the forests of his 
  lord and master in Old Deadeye’s realm.”
  “Vorn, Merros, Fadrien, I saw them fall, did anyone survive?” She 
  asked.
  “Fadrien…” Jergal’s eyes slid from the blackened spot that marked 
  Davik’s fall, to the broken bow and still form beside it, “Is gone.”
   “Vorn’s trapped, Fadrien’s down, Davik’s dead! By the accursed gods 
  above, Merros, do something!” Jergal’s long, loping strides carried him 
  past the tiefling sorcerer. He leapt into the air, his massive greatsword 
  striking the twisting and writhing form of the foul, undead linnorm.
  Merros narrowed his eyes as Jergal passed him. “Always to me, 
  isn’t it?” Eldritch words of arcane power flowed from his lips as 
  he crushed a copper dragon scale in his hand. His form twisted, 
  surging into something large and reptilian. His horns grew; 
  still resembling the tiefling’s but now much larger and 
  befitting of a dragon.
  Though far smaller than the massive linnormlich, 
  Merros nimbly scaled the walls of the Great Hall and 
  launched himself at Fellnorn the Dark, clawing and 
  biting at the giant wyrm’s necrotic flesh. Fellnorn’s 
  dual heads shrieked in outrage and pain as Merros 
  assaulted him.
  Fellnorn batted Merros away and spat acid 
  at the transformed sorcerer. The arcing green 
  line hissed along the Teifling’s copper scales, 
  some turning to a choking fume where it 
  burned through to the flesh beneath. Merros 
  howled in pain, writhing and thrashing 
  upon the ground. The great undead beast’s twin 
  jaws bit down on Merros’ neck, sending poison coursing through 
  his veins, and tearing open his throat. The copper dragon kicked twice, 
  diminishing and reverting to its normal form as Merros’ life slipped away. 
  “I…Imri, I’ve failed them all.” Jergal wanted to let tears run 
  unabashedly down his weathered and scarred cheeks, until they hid 
  themselves in his black and grey beard, but he blinked them back. 
  “My blade was keen, my arm was strong, my rage was great, but I 
  was...” 
  Jergal screamed in bestial fury, rage surging through him as Fellnorn 
  tore at Merros. He dodged past the battling wyrms and ran to the fallen 
  dwarf. Dropping his greatsword, Jergal grabbed Vorn’s outstretched arms 
  and yanked him free of the rubble. Jergal fell backwards, Vorn twisting 
  and falling across his legs.
  Vorn coughed, blood spattering onto the floor. His legs were crushed 
  and immobile. But a flash of yellowed teeth showed from behind his 
  
  36
  matted beard. “Good lad, knew you’d come for me.” His green eyes held 
  Jergal’s own. “Take care o’ the elf. She deserves not ta be in here. Plant her 
  somewhere green.” 
  The dwarf smiled broadly and patted Jergal’s calf, “I’ve somethin from 
  my brother in Alkenstar, fix this whole mess ya made—in my pack, quick 
  boy, hand it ta me.”
  Jergal nodded, and pushed himself up, bending forward to rummage 
  in the dwarf’s backpack. He pulled out a large wooden keg; it was heavy 
  and sealed with layers of wax and varnish. A black cord wrapped about 
  its diameter and then coiled up into its end.
  “Hand it here,” Vorn bit the black cord just short of where it entered the 
  top of the cask. “Good enough for this, won’t need that much time—don’t 
  have it anyway.” Free of the rubble, Vorn clutched the keg to his chest, 
  and drew a flintlock pistol from his waist. “Been good ta know ya, Boy-O. 
  Remember though, even if we kill it, its curse’ll kill us all.”
  Vorn spat on the floor, “Bad hand all around.” He jerked his head to 
  indicate Imri, “Least ya can spend it with her.” Vorn motioned to where 
  Imri was crouched beside Merros’ fallen form, placing herself between him 
  and the Guardian of the Icebound Tarn. “I’ll get his attention, you get the 
  girl. Find the phylactery—then it’s done.” 
  Jergal shook his head, “Our noble dwarf will pick no locks and 
  spring no traps, Davik walks in Elysium’s fields, Merros’ soul has 
  been sucked to the Nine Hells, and Fadrien…fairest Fadrien is 
  no more…we are doomed unless we find the lich’s soul.”
  Jergal picked up his sword, and patted Vorn’s 
  shoulder, “I will follow you shortly, keep a spot for 
  me at the bar—in whatever heaven or hell will 
  take you.” He then sprinted for Imri.
  Vorn stabilized the pistol as best he could, 
  resting it so the pan caught the tip of the 
  keg’s cord. He squeezed the trigger, the 
  hammer dropped, sparks flew and the gun 
  discharged with a crack of thunder. The 
  black cord sparked to life, a small flame 
  racing towards the interior of the keg.
  The hard metal ball caught the 
  beast in one of its lifeless white eyes, 
  destroying it. The linnormlich spun 
  about, ignoring Imri and Jergal, its 
  attention focused solely on the source 
  of its pain. It arced up, then drove 
  both heads down, smashing the 
  dwarf and tearing Vorn apart at the 
  waist as both sets of fangs scissored 
  through him. The explosion caught 
  both heads, disintegrating them in 
  a flash of fire and burning necrotic 
  flesh. Fellnorn’s voice shrieked into the 
  ether as his body dissolved in a flash of 
  negative energy.
  Jergal braced for the dark wave, but 
  Imri stood before him, blocking it with her 
  body even as she called upon Iomedae. She 
  collapsed into his arms, her body bearing all the 
  injuries, and no dark power touched Jergal. 
  Imri’s hands fell numbly to her sides, “Then the linnorm’s curse 
  claims us all—except you, my noble Dog…”
  Jergal cleared his throat, “Lady Imri, there must be…”
  Imri sagged against Jergal’s chest, “I asked Iomedae for a miracle, 
  and she answered.” A green heart-shaped gem rolled out of her hand 
  and onto the floor, pulsing with dark energy. “Fellnorn’s phylactery. 
  Take it.”
   “My Lady—”
  Imri opened her eyes, their former gemlike sheen opaque and dull, 
  “Ever have you borne the brunt of our grim labors, ever have you led 
  the charge, ever have you saved the day—for our collective glory, or 
  the glory of those we served. Now you alone will bear the honor of this 
  deed, as you deserve.” Imri’s face hardened, her voice strengthened, 
  “Jergal the Black, Son of Thorgrim, Son of Ulfric, Bastard Lord of 
  Frozen Citadel, I, Imri Kaldessi, Inquisitor of Iomedae, hold your 
  vows fulfilled…and I…” Imri coughed, and dark blood trailed from 
  the corner of her lips, “I release you…from my service…” she smiled 
  weakly, “if not my heart.” 
  Jergal blinked in shock, “I am not…worthy.”
  Imri closed her now sightless eyes, the linnorm’s virulent poison 
  closing down upon her life just as its heavy jaws had done to Vorn’s 
  broken body, “I know…when you…lie…”
  Jergal hugged her to him as wracking sobs shook the large man’s 
  body. Cold wind and icy snow blew about the room, falling upon 
  them both. In this frozen eternity, he cried silently, anger and rage 
  clashed within him, but there was nothing he could do. Imri was gone. 
  He stood slowly, carefully placing Imri’s body upon the cold stones 
  of the Great Hall. Crossing her arms over her chest, he 
  delicately twined the long, thin fingers of her left 
  hand around the symbol of Iomedae—a 
  small longsword inscribed within a 
  golden sun. It had hung from a golden 
  chain around Imri’s slender neck, 
  and was echoed by a matching 
  design upon her breastplate and 
  another emblazoned into the 
  hilt of her longsword. Jergal 
  picked Imri’s blade from 
  where it had fallen and placed 
  it along the right side of the 
  aasimar’s body, clasping her 
  cold fingers around its hilt. 
  He then moved from Imri’s 
  side, recovering his fallen 
  companions, laying them 
  to rest beside the Inquisitor. 
  The arcane cold would soon 
  consume the entire keep. 
  And, just as it was burying 
  and entombing the frigid 
  lands of the linnorm, it would 
  form a protective barrier of 
  ice over his fallen companions. 
  For now, it was all he could do.
  Jergal hefted his massive blade 
  onto his shoulder. He would 
  return to Kalsgard with the wyrm’s 
  heart and the sword of his forefathers 
  —at last recovered from Fellnorn’s lair. 
  It was enough to claim his place as a Linnorm 
  King. A kingdom would absolve him of his bastard 
  status, granting him the lands and power that he could never inherit 
  from his father.
  Yet, before he could leave, he returned to Imri’s side and knelt 
  down, “Imri Kaldessi, never have you been mistaken. But, in this you 
  are gravely wrong: The curse is not dying; it’s carrying the guilt of 
  living…I did not escape the Linnorm’s Curse, you did.”  B
  
  P
  37
  T
  he Arcane Archaeologists work together to satisfy their shared 
  need to understand the history and happenings of the Inner 
  Sea Region. The muscular and dwarf-haired Ulfen men and 
  women are known for being as rugged as they are truculent, everything 
  a mage is not. Regardless, the intrepid Arcane Archaeologists braved 
  permafrost summers, whiteout winters, and white dragon shadows to 
  dig through the snow and secrets of Golarion’s northern-most nation, 
  the Lands of the Linnorm Kings.
  Formally, the Arcane Archaeologists are: Mazi Verrechia, a human 
  historian with an ear for the myths told by tribes with no love of the 
  written word; Ahiyo Kyishi, a Tian elf whose perspective gained from 
  dabbling in many arcane cultures influences how spells are cast across 
  Golarion; Redaluccala “Red” Daipeati, a gnome tinkerer who brings 
  as many new ideas for magical adventuring gear to the places he visits 
  as he takes when he leaves; Leclair Shnag, a half-orc cryptozoologist 
  who takes credit for every beast slain by an adventurer who has read 
  her reports.
  A PINCH OF WARMTH
  Local mages—and contrary to popular opinion, there are a few 
  Ulfen arcanists—must learn to cast spells outfitted in the layers of 
  hide debilitating to somatic spell components but necessary to manage 
  the glacial environment. Visiting mages are not often so trained nor as 
  acclimated. Endure elements does wonders to survive the climate, but 
  nothing against the cold-based attacks of many monsters found in the 
  Lands of the Linnorm Kings. Mazi Verrechia set about designing a 
  spell to help defend against the notorious linnorms that populate the 
  area as well as other threats like frost worms and winter wolves.
  Steal Heat
  School transmutation; Level cleric 5, druid 4, ranger 4, 
  sorcerer/wizard 5, witch 5
  Casting Time 1 standard action
  Components V, S
  Range touch
  Target creature touched
  Duration instantaneous; see text
  Saving Throw Fort half; see text; Spell Resistance yes
  You steal body heat from your target and use it to bolster 
  your own resistance to cold. The less heat the target’s body 
  generates, the more painful it is for the target to have its body 
  heat extracted.
  On a successful touch attack, the target suffers 1d6 points of 
  damage per 2 caster levels (maximum 7d6). If the target 
  has cold resistance or immunity, you instead deal 1d6 points 
  of damage per caster level (maximum 15d6). You gain cold 
  resistance equal to your caster level for one round. On a 
  successful Fortitude save, the target takes half damage and 
  you do not gain cold resistance.
  SNOW PARASITES
  Let none say Leclair Shnag is above nit picking. Her primary 
  mission in the Lands of the Linnorm Kings was to track down a 
  miniscule vermin known to leave Ulfen raiders as drained husks of 
  muscle and braided hair.
  The arctic is not known for its dense populations or thriving animal 
  life. Only resourceful creatures and people are able to withstand hostile 
  environments like that of the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. Although 
  the belief that only the strong survive is especially true when resources 
  are hotly fought over, if what a creature hunts for is of no use to any 
  other creature, it can easily manage the harsh lifestyle. Such is true of 
  a microscopic threat that infuriates Ulfen tribes as often as it catches 
  them off guard. True, unless the Ulfen whose blood ice ticks feed off 
  count.
  Ice ticks are parasites found exclusively in arctic lands despite not 
  being acclimated to cold once born. Their survival hinges on their 
  prenatal ability to withstand even the coldest recorded temperatures 
  on Golarion, and their ability to camouflage amongst the icicles in 
  Ulfen hair.
  Ice Tick
  The icicles dangling from the Ulfen’s beard quiver for an instant before 
  cracking open and releasing a fog of white insects.
  iCe tiCK SWarm                                                            Cr 7
  XP 3,200
  N Fine vermin (swarm)
  Init +6; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +0
  DEFENSE
  AC 22, touch 20, flat-footed 20 (+2 Dex, +2 natural, +8 size)
  hp 75 (10d8+30)
  Fort +10, Ref +5, Will +3
  Defensive Abilities swarm traits; Immune mind-affecting 
  effects, weapon damage
  OFFENSE
  Speed 30 ft., climb 30 ft.
  Melee swarm (2d6 plus blood drain and distraction) 
  Special Attacks ambush birth, blood drain (1d4 Constitution), 
  distraction (DC 18)
  STATISTICS
  Str 1, Dex 14, Con 17, Int —, Wis 10, Cha 1
  Base Atk +7; CMB —; CMD —
  Feats Improved InitiativeB
  Skills Climb +10, Stealth +18; Racial Modifiers uses Dexterity 
  for Climb checks
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Ambush Birth (Ex): Ice tick eggs are immune to cold and 
  have a +20 racial bonus on Stealth checks in icy and snowy 
  environments. A cluster of ice tick eggs hatches into a swarm 
  within 1d4+1 rounds of being subject to temperature above 
  freezing. Ice ticks attack the nearest blooded creature once 
  hatched. Remove disease destroys any ice tick eggs on a host, 
  but has no affect on the swarm once hatched.
  taLes of the arCane
  arChaeoLogists:
  ARCANISTS ON ICE
  by Ryan Costello, Jr
  Art by Jess Door
  
  38
  Ice tick eggs are airborne microbes caught in arctic winds. They 
  remain fertile for years, traveling further around the northern 
  continent than most arctic explorers. When enough ice tick 
  eggs cling together, they fertilize one another. Once fertilized, 
  ice tick eggs hatch into an ice tick swarm soon after entering 
  temperatures above freezing, such as by a fire at an Ulfen 
  raider camp.
  Ice ticks work together to feed off a 
  creature’s blood. As they feed, 
  they lay their eggs, which are 
  swept away by the slightest 
  breeze, sending some future 
  generation of ice ticks out 
  into the world. No matter 
  how thoroughly a population 
  believes they have wiped out 
  the ice tick threat, there is no 
  way of knowing when the next 
  ice tick infestation will blow by.
  ACCLIMATED CASTING
  There is a misconception that the 
  best environment to develop energy-
  based magic is away from that energy. 
  Pedestrian thinkers do not believe a mage 
  could see the results of a new fire spell, 
  for example, cast in a desert or within a 
  volcano. There is truth in such ignorant 
  thought. A mage cannot see how well the 
  magic has worked; a mage can feel it.
  Ahiyo Kyishi crossed the Crown of the 
  World once on his way to the Inner Sea 
  Region. His journey tempted him with 
  the powers of cold energy, a temptation 
  he was thrilled to put behind him when 
  he analyzed its full potential in the 
  Lands of the Linnorm Kings. 
  He observed common traits among 
  victims of the cold that cold-based 
  spells only brush upon. Rather than 
  develop a new spell based on these 
  traits, the Tian elf decided to 
  influence a suite of spells with a 
  touch of cold metamagic. 
  Frigid Spell (Metamagic)
  You cause creatures to briefly 
  suffer the effects of long-term 
  exposure 
  to 
  subfreezing 
  temperatures.
  Benefit: In addition to 
  the normal effects of the 
  modified spell, the subject 
  is also slowed, as the slow 
  spell. If the spell normally 
  allows a saving throw, on a 
  successful save the subject is 
  instead fatigued. If the spell does not 
  normally allow a saving throw, the subject of the 
  frigid spell is allowed a Fortitude save to reduce the metamagic effect. 
  If the modified spell has the cold descriptor, the effect of the frigid 
  spell lasts for a number of rounds equal to your casting ability score 
  bonus (Wisdom for clerics, Intelligence for wizards, etc). Otherwise 
  the effect lasts one round.
  A frigid spell uses up a spell slot one level higher than the spell’s 
  actual level.
  TRUDGING THE SNOW
  “Red” Daipeati loved picking through all the different 
  equipment that exists to help explorers manage harsh 
  conditions like the Lands of the Linnorm Kings: dried 
  tinder, bivvy bags, packs, tools, and so many different 
  hats. The equipment in which he saw the most 
  potential was the crampon. 
  This pick-soled footwear that straps onto a shoe, 
  boot, or bare foot already helps hikers manage 
  treacherous arctic and subarctic terrain. With 
  a touch of magic and a tweaked design, 
  crampons of ice gliding can help all the 
  more.
  CramPoNS of iCe GliDiNG
  Aura strong transmutation; CL 
  13th
  Slot feet; Price 7,500 gp; Weight 
  3 lb.
  DESCRIPTION
  These metal cleats strap to the base 
  of any nonmagical footwear, granting 
  the wearer increased mobility in the 
  snow. The wearer gains a +5 bonus on 
  Acrobatics, Climb, and Survival checks 
  in icy or snowy environments.
  Additionally, using the cold energy 
  stored within the crampons of ice 
  gliding, the wearer can cause an ice 
  bridge to form under his feet in any 
  environment. The ice bridge allows 
  him to ignore the effects of difficult 
  terrain. In most environments, 
  the ice bridge crumbles behind 
  the wearer as he moves. In a 
  cold environment, the ice bridge 
  lasts until the end of the wearer’s 
  next turn, allowing any creature 
  that enters a square in which 
  the wearer has tread to ignore 
  the effects of difficult terrain in 
  that square. The wearer can use 
  this ability up to 10 rounds per 
  day. These rounds need not be 
  consecutive but they must be 
  spent in 1-round increments. 
  CONSTRUCTION
  Requirements Craft Wondrous 
  Item, ice body*; Cost 3,750 gp
  *See Pathfinder Roleplaying Game: 
  Ultimate Magic  B
  
  39
  
  P
  40
  T
  hough popular throughout the Inner Sea region, some people 
  believe that card games using Harrow cards are sacrilegious, 
  holding those mystical cards as signs of fate, or as superstitious 
  nonsense taking away from proper worship of the gods. Of course, I’m 
  in the camp that thinks they’re just games and there’s no more harm 
  in it than any other game. You might end up a few copper lighter at 
  the end of a Harrow game, but neither the cards nor the Gods have 
  ever made a sign to me that there is a problem with it.
  The game of Pillars is usually played just to pass the time, but 
  you can earn a few coins with it if you’re good. To win, you need 
  to collect more pillars than anyone else at the table by either raiding 
  or scavenging until everyone runs out of cards. Now, that probably 
  sounds like a load of gibberish, so let’s take it one part at a time so that 
  you can get the gist of it.
  These pillars you want to collect are the three cards in a single 
  column in the same suit (if you’re going by the words the fortune 
  tellers use, we’re talking about the cards in either the law, neutrality, 
  or chaos). The good, neutral, and evil cards that make up each of 
  those columns taken together is your pillar. 
  For example, the Betrayal (neutral evil), Twin (neutral), and Theatre 
  (neutral good) cards are all part of the neutral pillar for the suit of 
  Crowns.
  When the game starts, deal everyone five cards face down. The 
  dealer then places the remaining cards in a stack face down (we will 
  call this place the Fields) and flips over the top card, setting it face up 
  next to the Fields, and this face-up card is called the Dumps. After 
  that, the person to the left of the dealer takes their turn, continuing 
  play ‘round to the left of players.
  Your turn has four parts. First, you harvest and draw cards from 
  the Fields, until you are fully stocked at five cards. Second, set aside 
  any pillars you have in your hand, face-up. Now you’ve got to make a 
  choice: raid or scavenge.
  If you’re raiding, choose a player and ask them for a specific suit 
  (Books, Crowns, Hammers, Keys, Shields, and Stars). If they have any 
  cards in that suit, they must give you one of them. If they don’t, draw 
  a card from the top of the Fields stack.
  If you didn’t choose to raid, you can scavenge, picking the top cards 
  of the Dumps. The advantage is you know exactly which card you’re 
  getting, but it’s not likely to be a card you want. And yes, you must 
  pick the top card from the Dumps—can’t go digging through all of 
  that trash!
  Finally, you must discard down to only five cards putting your 
  extras into the Dumps.
  Everyone keeps playing until both the Dumps and the Fields are 
  completely empty. If the Fields stack runs out you can take the Dumps 
  stack, shuffling them together to make a new Fields stack.
  The person with the most pillars at the end of game is the winner. If 
  you’re putting a few coppers on the game, then the number of pillars 
  you have are how many coins each player owes you. However, being 
  as you’re not able to look at people’s hands, I don’t really recommend 
  putting money on this game if the people you’re playing against are 
  less than reputable.
  Some mystics say that the pillars you end up with say something 
  about your fortunes and that the mystical power of the cards persists 
  even though a child’s game such as this. However, I personally 
  wouldn’t put any coin on it. B
  of ChanCe and sKiLL:
  PiLLars: a game for
  HARROW
  BY Gregg Reece
  Art by Dave Mallon
  
  P
  41
  I
  rrisen has few friends beyond its borders. The Linnorm Kings to the 
  west have not forgotten the Winter War that birthed their neighbor–
  Pathfinder Roleplaying Game: The Inner Sea World Guide
  A witch coven is a fearsome enemy both for good adventurers and 
  grim villains. There are plenty of reasons not to come at odds with 
  numerous angry and powerful witches. But sometimes the coven 
  members are not so powerful. Sometimes they’re hidden in hostile 
  lands and persecuted by enemy churches, superstitious barbarians, 
  and witch hunters. Sometimes they are bound to an oath of peace 
  and nonviolence. In these cases, vigorous young men and women—
  possibly the children or loved ones of the witches—are chosen and 
  trained to protect the coven from any danger or persecute its enemies. 
  Even in times of peace, any profane intruder who dares to come too 
  near to a witchcraft ritual or steal prohibited treasures may face the 
  swords and spells of these coven guardians.
  WITCH KNIGHT (MAGUS ARCHETYPE)
  Some magi are trained from witch covens to defend and protect their 
  members, and possess spells and abilities more natural and wild.
  Witch’s Familiar: At 1st level, a witch knight magus forms a close 
  bond with a familiar, a creature that teaches him magic and helps 
  to guide him along his path. This functions like the witch ability of 
  the same name. This ability replaces the magus’s spellbook and spell 
  combat gained at 1st level.
  Spell Combat: At 3rd level, a witch knight magus learns to cast 
  spells and wield his weapons at the same time. This ability replaces the 
  magus arcana gained at 3rd level.
  Bewitched Arcana: The witch knight receives access to the following 
  arcana. Moreover, if he chooses the Jinx Blending arcana (from Super 
  Genius Games’ New Magus Arcana), he can add the selected witch 
  spell to his list as a spell of the same level. If the witch knight chooses 
  the Spell Blending arcana to learn a wizard/sorcerer spell, the selected 
  spell is added to his list as a spell of one level higher.
  Bewitched Strike (Sp): A witch knight magus can cast his patron 
  spells using the spellstrike ability, even if the spells are not touch-attack 
  spells.
  Greater Spell Access: At 19th level, the witch knight gains access 
  to an expanded spell list. He learns and places 14 spells from the witch 
  spell list into his familiar as magus spells of their witch level. The witch 
  knight gains two of each of the following witch spells not on the magus 
  spell list: 0-level, 1st-level, 2nd-level, 3rd-level, 4th-level, 5th-level, and 
  6th-level. He can ignore the somatic component of these spells, casting 
  them without the normal chance of spell failure. This replaces the 
  normal greater spell access ability.
  Spells: A witch knight magus chooses a witch patron at 1st level and 
  adds the patron spells of 1st to 6th level to his magus spell list.
  Magus Arcana: The following magus arcana complement the witch 
  knight archetype: broad study, dispelling strike, empowered magic, 
  and jinx blending.
  WITCH HOUND (INQUISITOR ARCHETYPE)
  The witch hound is the witch hunter’s antithesis, a lone wolf infiltrating 
  strange dungeons to fetch eldritch secrets and using hexes to battle the 
  enemies of the coven he’s sworn to serve.
  Hex (Su): At 1st level, a witch hound inquisitor picks one hex from 
  the witch’s hex class feature. He gains the benefit of or uses that hex 
  as if he were a witch of a level equal to his magus level. He gains an 
  additional hex at 3rd level and every three levels thereafter. At 12th 
  level, the witch hound can instead choose a major hex. A witch hound 
  cannot select an individual hex more than once. This ability replaces 
  the inquisitor’s domain and teamwork bonus feats.
  Houndmaster: A witch hound’s inquisitor levels stack with his levels 
  in any class that gives a familiar, animal companion, bonded mount, 
  or an outsider servant of any type for the purpose of determining any 
  abilities that depend on the master’s level. He doesn’t obtain a familiar 
  or a companion with this ability alone. If the witch hound inquisitor 
  has levels in more than one class which gives a companion, he must 
  choose to what class he will apply this benefit.
  Trapfinding: Disable Device is a class skill for the witch hound 
  inquisitor. At 2nd level, he gains the trapfinding ability as a rogue of 
  the same level. If the witch hound has levels in another class that gives 
  trapfinding, these levels stack. This ability replaces track.  B
  the CoVen 
  gUardians
  by Margherita “Bardess” Tramontano
  Art by MatthewStinson
  
  P
  42
  PERMAFROST
  The periglacial zone is concurrent with the region of permanently 
  frozen ground, known as permafrost. Permafrost may or may not have 
  a layer above it which melts in the spring or summer and freezes again 
  in the fall and winter. Typically, the thinner the seasonally-thawed 
  layer above the permafrost, the less vegetation can grow upon it. 
  There may be an incomplete vegetation cover consisting of low shrubs, 
  herbaceous plants and dwarf species of trees, and thus somewhat more 
  food availability for animals. But in the higher latitudes, the true 
  tundra, vegetation and food is extremely sparse. 
  Animals that have adapted to live in this zone 
  typically only do so in the summer months and 
  migrate to lower latitudes for the winter months. 
  This should result in a fairly significantly higher 
  DC for survival checks in the fall through winter 
  months, depending on how tough you as the 
  GM wish to be on your players. I would suggest 
  not less than a DC of 15 for survival checks in 
  the summer months. This should include not 
  merely food gathering attempts (which can be 
  circumvented with magic) but also attempts to 
  notice and avoid other hazards of this region.
  SOLIFLUCTION “SOIL FLOW”
  If the soil is saturated with water, the soggy 
  mass may move downhill at a very slow and 
  imperceptible rate. If it is directly associated 
  with a frozen layer beneath the active layer of the 
  soil, the more specific term, gelifluction applies. 
  What this causes is added pressure on structures 
  built within the region where such soil flow does 
  occur. Collapse of structures or retaining walls 
  may result surprisingly quickly if the residents 
  are unaware of such processes or do not observe 
  them occurring in time to prevent collapse. 
  Associated hazards from gelifluction include 
  snow and rock avalanches on slopes.  Mud flows 
  and debris flows break out of gelifluction lobes 
  and sheets and may suddenly flow down canyons 
  to immerse persons or structures. 
  NIVATION
  Snow patches that persist in sheltered locations on a slope may 
  produce nivation hollows after only a few seasons. The snowmass 
  produces a localized source of water around its edges. Some of the water 
  percolates through the downhill edge of the snowbank and carries 
  away any fine particles from the rock and soil beneath it. Over time, 
  a hollow appears with the snowbank resting atop it, slowly enlarging 
  itself. Over time, such processes, combined with further accumulation 
  of snow freezing to ice underneath the snowmass, may contribute to 
  the formation of glaciers.
  FREEZING AND HYDROFRACTURING
  Solid rock formations may be broken apart over time due to the 
  alternating freezing and thawing of water that finds its way into 
  cleavages between planes of minerals within the rocks. Over time 
  this creates fractures due to the fact that water when thawed takes up 
  less space than when frozen. Water will collect in cracks and during 
  cold months freeze, widening the cracks. Sudden rock falls due to 
  separation from these processes are common on steep slopes, canyons 
  and mountains.
  ICE WEDGE POLYGONS
  These can cover many thousands of miles. Each polygon may be 
  from 10 feet to 100 feet in size and is outlined by shallow troughs, 
  beneath which is a wedge-shaped foliated mass of ice, a meter or more 
  broad at the top and extending downward from six to fifteen feet. It 
  begins with seasonal freezing and thawing and may explosively develop 
  vertical cracks in the ground that begin an inch wide and several feet 
  deep and grow progressively over several seasons. In the spring, water 
  from the active layer 
  seeps down the crack 
  and refreezes in the cold 
  permafrost. During the 
  summer, warming and 
  expansion of the frozen 
  layer causes sediments 
  to be upturned and 
  deformed against the 
  ice wedge. Each winter 
  the 
  freezing-cracking 
  is repeated along the 
  initial wedge and each 
  summer 
  new 
  layers 
  of ice are introduced 
  to widen the wedge. 
  Over several centuries 
  an entire plain may 
  be covered by these 
  polygons. This process 
  turns 
  an 
  otherwise 
  flat plain into difficult 
  terrain.
  The 
  combination 
  of intense frost action, 
  permafrost 
  and 
  the 
  other landform hazards 
  mentioned above as 
  well 
  as 
  incomplete 
  vegetation 
  cover, 
  seasonal flowing of rivers, and strong winds turn periglacial plains into 
  wastelands of patterned ground, rubble-strewn hill slopes, gelifluction 
  lobes and sheets; and seasonal bogs or shallow lakes and mountainous 
  regions add hazards, like rock glaciers and massive talus piles. B
  PerigLaCiaL Landforms
  and haZards 
  (REASONS WHY YOUR PLAYERS SHOULD NOT 
  BECOME LACKADAISICAL ABOUT THE FAR 
  NORTH)
  by Dawn “Dark Sasha” Fischer
  Art by Todd Westcot
  
  P
  43
  T
  he Sampo is a uniquely Finnish artifact from the Kalevala. 
  This series of stories tells how the Sampo was forged by the hero 
  and legendary smith Ilmarinen. The sorceress Louhi steals the 
  Sampo causing Ilmarinen’s land to fall on hard times.  Ilmarinen and 
  Väinämöinen, the chief hero of the Kalevala, set out to retrieve the 
  Sampo from Louhi’s stronghold. They succeed in defeating Louhi, but 
  the Sampo is destroyed.
  The roots of this myth reach far back to the dark past when the 
  people who were to become the Finns still lived in the Ural Mountain 
  region in modern day north-central Russia. The Sampo is thought to 
  be a metaphor for the stellar dome, as viewed by the peoples of ancient 
  Siberia, with its axis at the Polestar (The Nail of the North). This 
  cosmic model is reflected in the Sacred World Tree with its three, 
  seven, or nine levels, and the shaman’s tent with its central pole and 
  starry cover.
  The tales tell of the theft of the Sampo. Some scholars believe it 
  is a metaphor for the upsetting of the celestial frame and movement 
  of the celestial center to another place. Since the Sampo is really the 
  Polestar, the Nail of the North, it is the equivalent of saying that the 
  Polestar moves. In fact, the Earth’s axis wobbles, giving an appearance 
  of movement to the Polestar, a cycle roughly 26,000 years in period. 
  Astronomers refer to this phenomenon as the precession of the 
  equinoxes. Does this myth indicate ancient Finnish awareness of this 
  astronomical occurrence?
  SamPo (miNor artifaCt)
  Aura strong conjuration; CL 20th
  Slot none; Weight varies
  DESCRIPTION
  Made from a piece of the World Tree, this artifact brings good 
  fortune to its bearer.  The Sampo has four forms each with a 
  different power. The bearer can change the Sampo’s form by 
  concentrating as a full-round action. The four forms and their 
  associated powers are:
  Astrolabe: In this form the Sampo provides a +10 circumstance 
  bonus on Profession (sailor) checks.
  Driftwood: The Sampo’s default form is that of a tree branch. The 
  bearer of the Sampo in this form gains a +4 luck bonus on all 
  saving throws, attack rolls, ability checks, and skill checks.
  Magic Mill: The Sampo grows to the size of a small building. The 
  magic mill operates under its own power, requiring no impetus 
  from water or beast. The Sampo can take this form only if 
  there is sufficient space. The magic mill has the power to turn 
  raw material into almost any object. The mill can produce a 
  major creation at will; objects created are permanent, but the 
  user must provide the mill with material components (of any 
  sort) of equal value to the created object.
  Wooden Bowl: In this form, the Sampo can create food and water 
  once per day.
  DESTRUCTION
  The Sampo can be destroyed by being flown to the highest point 
  in the sky and then dropped into the deepest part of the sea.  
  B
  hero’s hoard:
  THE SAMPO
  by Dawn “Dark Sasha” Fischer
  Art by Carlos Torreblanca
  
  P
  44
  Y
  ou should have slain me first,” their father said as he gazed 
  upon the three armed men before him, “rather than wasting 
  your time with my apprentices.”
  “You’ll die anyway, old man. The order matters little,” Rhevan 
  growled, leveling his sword 
  at their father’s robed figure. 
  His cowl cast his face in a 
  deep, 
  unnatural 
  shadow, 
  while his eyes glowed like tiny 
  coals. Ailyn had never seen 
  her father like this, but there 
  was no mistake. This was 
  Verik Dartherian at his most 
  powerful.
  The might of the Hells filled 
  his normally thin, almost frail 
  form. Nearby, the air itself 
  seemed to suddenly bulge 
  outward. A horrible wailing 
  filled the room, but ceased 
  as the distortion faded. Even 
  without the mages’ direction, 
  the spell was completing itself.
  “And you’re a fool if you 
  think you can fight me, 
  Rhevan. I taught you better 
  than 
  this. 
  Disrupting 
  a 
  summoning at the height of 
  the spell? You may get your 
  wish, boy, but the price will be 
  your life if the veil tears.”
  Rhevan snorted, flashing 
  a wicked grin and taking 
  another step toward their 
  father.
  “I’ll deal with whatever 
  monstrosities 
  manage 
  to 
  worm their way through. But you...you, I’ll relish killing.”
  The younger man tensed, and from Ailyn’s spot pressed against the 
  far wall she could barely see his lips move as he held his hand over the 
  glowing blade of his sword. In a flash of light, he closed the distance 
  between himself and Verik, slashing violently at the wizard.
  Her brother was an accomplished fencer, but Ailyn saw none of that 
  finesse as he lashed out at their father. His attacks were almost bestial, 
  his face contorted in rage, as Verik’s ebony staff and shimmering 
  arcane shields turned aside each blow.
  Lightning-fast, Verik knocked Rhevan’s sword wide, his staff 
  whirling as he brought it around to slam its length against her brother’s 
  ribs. There was a soft crunch. Rhevan cried out, staggered and nearly 
  dropped his sword. Ailyn winced, looking away, to find Arden and 
  Thorn circling around the room’s edges, trying to surround the mage.
  “Father, look out!” Her voice was almost lost in the din of another 
  sudden chorus of wails. The air next to her shuddered and rippled. 
  Startled, Ailyn scrambled back as cracks began to spider their way 
  across the distortion. She could see the tips of claws working through 
  the cracks, trying to widen them, only to vanish again as they closed.
  Thankfully, Verik heard her warning. He jammed the butt of his 
  staff into Rhevan’s gut, uttering a word. It flashed with energy, and 
  the blow sent his son flying halfway across the room to land with a 
  pained grunt at the circle’s center, his sword clattering across the floor. 
  Then Verik spun in a circle, his crimson robes flaring around him.
  Thorn was the next to attack, rushing the mage and cutting across 
  with a blade of mundane steel. Ailyn let out another scream as she 
  saw it shear through Verik’s robe, then blinked, watching as the fabric 
  fluttered to the ground without a body inside of them. A ray of searing 
  heat sprang from above and 
  behind Thorn. He let out a 
  blood-curdling scream of 
  pain as it punched through 
  his chest. 
   Verik smirked, now 
  hovering in the air and clad 
  in his familiar, close-fitting 
  attire of black and crimson 
  silk. His face was lined with 
  age and his hair, stark white, 
  but there was nothing else 
  about the man that spoke 
  of age or frailty. He exuded 
  power. His eyes blazed 
  bright crimson as he twirled 
  his staff toward Arden.
  This time, however, no ray 
  sprang forth. Verik merely 
  smiled, and the end of his 
  gnarled staff began to glow.
  “Die.”
  Arden lurched as the 
  glow sprang up around 
  him, 
  staggering 
  and 
  clutching his chest before 
  falling to the ground beside 
  Thorn’s smoldering form. 
  Verik lingered over them, 
  gloating. Another distortion 
  appearing near him, and as 
  he slowly rotated toward it, 
  Rhevan stooped to pick up 
  his fallen sword.
  “You’re still alive?” Verik asked calmly. His words held a hint of 
  surprise that brought a rough laugh from Rhevan, who spat a gobbet 
  of blood onto the marble floor and lifted his empty gaze to meet the 
  burning coals of his father’s eyes.
  “I’ll live for as long as it takes to kill you,” he spat, lifting his sword. 
  in heLL’s emBraCe, 
  Part iV
  by Dane Pitchford
  Art by Isaac Royo
  
  45
  With a bellow that sounded almost victorious, he swung it in an arc 
  before him. As he did, the air contorted just in front of him. The 
  enchanted steel bit into the distortion, and it shattered like glass. A 
  jagged hole gaped in the air before him, but Ailyn could see it didn’t 
  lead to any of the Hells she knew. What began to swarm forth were 
  not devils.
  Clearly surprised, Verik flew backward, his gaze falling on Ailyn 
  for an instant as he sought something else in the chamber.
  “Run, dearest,” she heard him whisper, as if next to her, before 
  his gaze shifted away and found what he had sought. Something in 
  her father’s command broke her paralysis and spurred her strength. 
  She scrambled to her feet, bolting from the chamber as she heard 
  the sound of another distortion shattering. Her father bellowed in 
  Infernal above the din of wails as both demons and devils streamed 
  into the chamber.
  As she ran, Ailyn felt tears streaming down her face. 
  Both her father and brother would die. She would 
  be next, be it at the hands of demons, devils 
  or her brother’s men. She nearly fell as she 
  reached the stairs leading back up into 
  the manor itself.
  She took the stone steps two at 
  a time, away from the horrors 
  behind her. And yet, the 
  charge in the air didn’t abate. 
  Instead, it seemed to grow, 
  reverberating in her soul as 
  she tried to remember in her 
  frantic state which corridor 
  led to the manor’s main 
  hall.
  Rounding a corner, Ailyn 
  paused, sagging against a 
  wall to catch her breath. 
  Something 
  was 
  wrong. 
  The out-of-control energy 
  from 
  the 
  summoning 
  chamber below had spread 
  throughout the house, and 
  it was still growing. Already 
  she could see more distortions 
  wavering in the air, creatures 
  from warring planes trying to 
  claw their way through.
  “No...no, 
  I...have 
  to 
  keep 
  running,” she panted softly, steeling 
  herself and spurring her burning legs into 
  a run again. Behind her, she heard a sound 
  like breaking glass, and an unbearable heat as 
  hellfire spewed forth from the tear in reality. Stone 
  itself began to burn in the infernal onslaught. Another 
  gout of flame burst forth before her.
  Ailyn screamed, tripping as she tried to keep from running straight 
  into it and landing flat on her back. Her way was blocked. Still, she 
  pushed herself to her feet again, breathing hard as she tore open the 
  door of the nearest room. It was a servant’s bedchamber. Whoever 
  had dwelled in it was dead, or soon would be. Pressing the door shut 
  behind her, Ailyn sagged to the floor and began to sob uncontrollably, 
  the tears flowing down her pale cheeks.
  *                              *                              *
  Fire. Heat. Pain. That was her world. Her head swam as she tried 
  to comprehend what was happening. She knew she was burning. She 
  could smell it, but her body was strangely numb. There were no walls, 
  only sheets of flame that surrounded her, dominated her. Already, 
  darkness crept into the corners of her vision.
  Then, something moved in the flames. It was impossible. A 
  delusion, moments before death. Yet there she was. A woman, dark 
  and beautiful, her skin pale and her hair like night. Wings of raven 
  feathers flared behind her, scattering the flames as she stooped. A cool 
  touch, fingertips painful against seared flesh, but it felt good. She 
  ached for more as that dark creature smiled down at her.
  “You are strong child...to linger, when others fall,” she said, her 
  voice a wicked chorus tugging at her soul. “Your blood...is familiar. A 
  strong line. But...I can make you stronger. You’d like that, wouldn’t 
  you, little one?”
  She tried to speak, to say yes, but all that came were 
  pain and a dry rasp. The creature understood. Her 
  smile never faltered as she leaned close, those 
  perfectly crimson lips meeting the girl’s. 
  In that instant, Ailyn was bathed in a 
  different sort of hellfire, a fire that 
  tore into her soul, even as she felt 
  something dark and malignant 
  worm its way inside of her 
  being. She knew she should 
  be repulsed, but it took away 
  the pain. Ailyn let herself fall 
  into that hellish embrace. As 
  the world faded to darkness, 
  she saw her brother’s face 
  flash before her eyes one 
  last time.
  *                 *                 *
  Ailyn awoke beneath 
  the night sky, the scent 
  of char filling her nose. 
  The pain was gone, a 
  lingering memory. She felt...
  wonderful. As she pushed 
  herself to her hands and knees, 
  she realized she was no longer 
  in the manor. She could see a 
  thick column of smoke rising into 
  the air nearby. Somehow she had been 
  saved and left unscathed in an alleyway. 
  Her last moments within the manor were 
  unclear...she remembered fire, and agony, 
  and a woman...and then something approaching 
  ecstasy before it all went black.
  Shakily, she stood, the burnt tatters of her dress sloughing 
  from her pale flesh. She felt...different. That woman, that creature, 
  had changed her. And there was something else...an itch, a tug at her 
  consciousness. She realized the sensation was familiar.
  Rhevan was alive. She knew it, somehow. The knowledge that he 
  and some of his men had escaped was certain, as certain as the cool 
  cobblestones under her feet. As certain as the fact that she would find 
  him and every last one of his brutish sellswords...and, one by one, 
  they would die.  B
  
  P
  46
  T
  ailoring treasure to the frozen north can be easy—after all, 
  boots of the winterlands,  rings of cold resistance, horns of Valhalla, 
  and many more items lie within the pages of the Pathfinder 
  Core Rulebook. Couple that with basic survival items like the ring of 
  sustenance and sustaining spoon, plus a few magic axes, helmets, and 
  shields; and it seems 
  like a GM is spoiled for 
  choice when it comes to 
  rewarding adventurers for 
  daring the Lands of the 
  Linnorm Kings. 
  Of course, the appearance 
  of these core items can be 
  altered to better suit the 
  environment of the frozen 
  land of the Vikings; torcs 
  can replace necklaces, rings 
  can become bracelets or arm 
  bands (while still filling the 
  ring slot) and cloaks can be 
  made from the skins of fierce 
  beasts such as dragons, yetis, 
  or bears. Many items should 
  bear runes and precious stones, as 
  ostentatious displays show others that 
  you are a mighty warrior not to be trifled 
  with.
  However, this plethora of items can also be a double-edged sword 
  as many of these items hearken back to past editions and have a long 
  and storied history—which of course also means that many players 
  already have tales of heroes who have found these exact items (for 
  some, time and time again). To help ease the ennui of players and the 
  sleepless nights of GMs, here are a few new magic items for your next 
  campaign in the Lands of the Linnorm Kings.
  troll CHaliCe
  Aura moderate conjuration; CL 9th
  Slot —; Price 45,000 gp; Weight 4 lbs.
  DESCRIPTION
  A gnarled troll’s hand serves as the stem and base for this 
  battered copper bowl. When the bowl is filled, it imbues 
  its contents with some of a troll’s healing powers. Filling a 
  troll chalice is a standard action that provokes an attack of 
  opportunity and requires half a pint of potable water. The user 
  can then drink the contents (as a potion). This provides the 
  drinker with fast healing 5 for 2d6 minutes. A troll chalice can 
  only be used once per day in this fashion.
  Any cure potion placed in a troll chalice is automatically 
  empowered, as if by the metamagic feat.  Rumors persist that 
  various other liquids placed in a troll chalice will have different 
  effects, but these effects are left to the GM’s discretion.
  CONSTRUCTION
  Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, Empower Spell, breath of 
  life; Cost 22,500 gp
  Bear traP of immoBilitY
  Aura moderate enchantment; CL 9th
  Slot —; Price 9,000 gp; Weight 10 lbs.
  DESCRIPTION
  This large steel trap consists of a set of rune-covered, spring-
  loaded jaws. It functions as a bear trap (see the Advanced 
  Player’s Guide). Any living creature damaged by the trap must 
  make a DC 17 Will save or be paralyzed, as if by hold monster.  
  The trap’s spell effect resets 24 hours after being triggered.
  CONSTRUCTION
  Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, hold monster; Cost 4,500 
  gp
  HorNeD Helm
  Aura faint transmutation; CL 3rd
  Slot head; Price 12,000 gp; Weight 7 lbs.
  DESCRIPTION
  This simple helmet sports an impressive pair of 
  bull-like horns. When the wearer charges, he can 
  make a gore attack with the horns in addition to 
  his normal attacks. This is treated as a secondary 
  natural attack (made at the wearer’s full base 
  attack bonus –5) that deals 1d8 points of damage 
  plus half the wearer’s Strength modifier.
  CONSTRUCTION
  Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, bull’s 
  strength; Cost 6,000 gp
  Statuette of tHe BurroWiNG liNNorm
  Aura moderate transmutation and evocation; CL 9th
  Slot —; Price 10,000 gp; Weight 2 lbs.
  DESCRIPTION
  This small brass statuette is shaped like a sinewy wingless 
  dragon. When a command word is spoken, the statuette comes 
  to life, curling its head to attend the user. When given a simple 
  message (up to 50 words) for a single target, the statuette 
  dives into the earth, burrowing its way towards the message’s 
  intended recipient at 2 miles per hour. A statuette of the 
  burrowing linnorm can pass through stone, dirt, or almost any 
  other sort of earth except metal. It always takes the shortest 
  path to its target and can travel a distance of up to 10 miles. 
  Once it reaches its target (or its limit of 10 miles) a statuette of 
  the burrowing linnorm delivers its message and then reverts to 
  inanimate form. The statuette can be used once per week. It 
  has hardness 10, 10 hp, and AC 15 while animated.
  CONSTRUCTION
  Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, animate objects, sending; 
  Cost 5,000 gp  B
  hero’s hoard:
  treasUre fit for a
  (LINNORM) KING
  by Eric ‘Boxhead’ Hindley
  Art by Carlos Torreblanca
  
  47
  
  P
  48
  T
  here are a great many things both dead and golden buried 
  beneath this frigid land. Faces peer through the ice, rotted 
  hands clutch trinkets that damned them to a frozen hell, 
  ice witches battle for dominance of frigid lands, mad men run wild 
  devouring whatever they might catch, and citizens and adventures 
  alike battle creatures from this world and beyond. Why then would 
  one venture to this land? Because it is there, and, of course, for glory.
  NITHVEIL
  You have eluded me
  For years
  Oh, City of the Moon.
  No matter 
  Where I go,
  You seem
  Always
  To wane,
  And so I know my search is endless,
  And so I search in vain.
  A WAR LOST
  Snow falls
  On a crown,
  Forgotten,
  With no brow
  To rest upon.
  The Ulfen people
  Look to the forest,
  For their king
  To emerge,
  With Fafnheir’s head in hand,
  To unite 
  And claim the eastern land.
  BLACK TARN
  Greed is what tempted me,
  And brought me to this lake.
  What lies beneath
  Those blackened waters?
  Silver or gold?
  I will find it all,
  For I have traveled past
  The dragon’s bone,
  In search of glory,
  In search of precious stone.
  KALVA
  On this island
  Madness
  Takes control.
  Wretched beasts
  Howl upon the shore,
  Gluttonous men
  Thirst for more,
  The price for passage,
  It is steep indeed,
  They want no money,
  But flesh, 
  They need.  B
  words from manY roads
  Lands of the Linnorm Kings 
  by Russell “Soricel Minoi Mousefeet” Estes
  Art by Elizabeth Lindhag
  
  P
  49
  W
  hile some like to stick to the roads and to ships for 
  their journeys, others prefer to make their own routes, 
  skimming over the winter snow on runners. Most of these 
  independent sorts consider a team of dogs superior to horses for sled 
  work, as dogs are both better suited to the cold and require the owner 
  to carry less food with them. Sled dogs are trained in the heavy labor 
  general purpose and commonly run in teams of 2–6 dogs. Each dog in 
  the team has its own particular purpose, from the wheel dogs taking 
  the strain immediately in front of the sled to the lead dogs skilled in 
  finding routes and spotting danger.
  Two characters who prefer runners to roads are Brangita Stormeyes 
  and Wolfstan “Icetongue” Torrson, each of whom owns their own 
  sled and dog team. The number of accidents among the sled owners 
  has seen a sharp increase. Although both Brangita and Wolfstan are 
  aware of the risks, they both continue to travel for their own reasons.
  WEAL: BRANGITA STORMEYES, 
  EXPRESS DELIVERY
  Brangita wanted more from life than 
  to marry and take over her dwarven 
  family’s jewelry business, so she ran away 
  in a fit of temper and has never looked 
  back. The only aspect of her previous life 
  that she kept was to name all the dogs in 
  her dog team after gemstones, becoming 
  especially close to the lead dog she calls Jet. 
  With her sled team, she weaves her way 
  through towns and villages, never 
  entirely predictable and never 
  staying around long enough to 
  be tied down by anything, or 
  for her family to find her and 
  bring her back.
  Frostbitten and fiery-
  tempered, with dozens of 
  thin braids in her mousy 
  hair—one for every Linnorm 
  Kingdoms circuit she has 
  made —Brangita earned a 
  reputation for reliability, trader 
  contacts in most of the land based 
  cities, and a niche for transporting small 
  valuable packages to out-of-the-way places. 
  After one bad experience, she also learned never to travel without some 
  source of emergency fire, preferably one that doesn’t need working 
  hands to start.
  Hooks:
  • Adventurers may be referred to Brangita to order or collect magic 
  items.
  • The PCs may be recruited as on-the-spot judges for a sled race or 
  insult match between Brangita and one or more of the townspeople.
  • Brangita may request that the PCs investigate the sudden rise in 
  dog sled accidents, having barely avoided some herself.
  BraNGita StormeYeS                                                  Cr 5
  XP 1,600
  Dwarf ranger 6
  N Medium humanoid (dwarf)
  Init -1; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +11
  DEFENSE
  AC 16, touch 9, flat-footed 16 (+7 armor, -1 Dex) (+4 dodge vs. 
  giants)
  hp 51 (6d10+18)
  Fort +9, Ref +5, Will +5; +2 vs. poison, spells, and spell-like 
  abilities
  OFFENSE
  Speed 20 ft.
  Melee mwk urgrosh +7/+7/+2/+2 
  (1d8+2/1d6+2/1d8+2/1d6+2/×3) 
  Ranged cold iron light hammer +6 (1d4+1) or silver light 
  hammer +6 (1d4)
  Special Attacks favored enemy (humanoid (human) +4, animals 
  +2), favored terrain (cold +2)
  Ranger Spells Prepared (CL 3rd; concentration +5)
  1st—endure elements, resist energy
  TACTICS
  During Combat Brangita sets her back against something 
  and waits for her opponents to come to her, often calling 
  taunts or jeering in an attempt to make them angry. She 
  sets her urgrosh against any initial charge and then uses 
  both ends of the urgrosh to attack anyone within reach.
  Morale Brangita is hot-tempered but not stupid. If 
  reduced to below 16 hit points, she surrenders.
  STATISTICS
  Str 15, Dex 8, Con 16, Int 13, Wis 15, Cha 8
  Base Atk +6; CMB +8; CMD 17
  Feats Double Slice, Endurance, Improved Two 
  Weapon Fighting, Quick Draw, Two Weapon 
  Fighting
  Skills Climb +7, Handle Animal +8, Heal +11, 
  Knowledge (geography) +10, Knowledge 
  (nature) +10, Perception +11, Profession 
  (courier) +7, Survival +11 (+14 to follow 
  tracks), Swim +7
  Languages Common, Dwarven, Skald
  SQ hunter’s bond (companion), track 
  +3, wild empathy +5
  Combat Gear alchemist’s fire, oils of 
  magic weapon (2), potions of cure light 
  wounds (2), thunderstones (3)
  Other Gear +1 breastplate, masterwork 
  dwarven urgrosh, cold iron light hammer, 
  alchemical silver light hammer, cloak of 
  weaL and woe: 
  rUnners and wreCKers
  by Liz “HerosBackpack” Smith
  Art by Ashton Sperry
  
  50
  resistance +1, sled and dog team (5 dogs + her animal 
  companion Jet), wooden holy symbols (Erastil and Desna), 
  spell component pouch, cold weather outfit, healer’s kit, 
  climber’s kit, 50 ft. silk rope, tindertwigs (5), 100 gp worth of 
  trail gear
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Boon Once friendly with the PCs, Brangita can provide access to 
  her web of contacts allowing the PCs a one-time opportunity to 
  order a magic item as if the settlement they were in was one 
  size larger.
  WOE: WOLFSTAN TORRSON, SABOTEUR
  Smooth as ice and twice as slippery, Wolfstan attempts 
  to befriend everyone he meets, cultivating a charming 
  manner and a cheerful mask that rarely slips.  Behind 
  the mask, he is calculating and coldhearted. Wolfstan 
  caused the increase in accidents, sabotaging sleds 
  and routes. He salts river ice to create a weak layer, 
  spikes trails so that dogs damage their paws, cuts 
  harnesses part-way through, all part of a plan 
  to set himself up as a kind and compassionate 
  rescuer. That, he is certain, will in turn give 
  him all the status of a hero and allow him to 
  live the life he wants. Wolfstan has not yet 
  managed to sabotage Brangita due to her 
  erratic schedule. Unfortunate for him, 
  as he wants to be sure he is on hand to 
  “rescue” her when it all goes wrong. 
  In 
  his 
  scheming, 
  Wolfstan 
  “rescued” 
  four 
  drivers 
  without 
  otherwise persuading them of his 
  friendliness, and allowed two major 
  rivals to drown before stepping up 
  to find their sleds and claim the 
  contents as salvage.
  Wolfstan does his best to 
  stand out and keep up heroic 
  appearances. 
  A 
  brightly 
  enamelled brooch fastens his 
  scarlet cloak and his working 
  furs are encircled by a belt of 
  carved horn plaques.
  Hooks:
  • Adventurers may discover the scene of 
  an accident moments before Wolfstan, who arrives 
  displeased to find rivals for his fame as a rescuer.
  • The PCs may be assigned to guard a particularly valuable cargo 
  that Wolfstan is transporting, with orders to prevent him from getting 
  lost this time.
  • Wolfstan may hire the PCs as decoys that he can later blame for 
  the sabotage, sending them on innocent tasks that keep them out of 
  the his way and rousing suspicion behind their backs.
  WolfStaN “iCetoNGue” torrSoN                            Cr 5
  XP 1,600
  Human bard 6
  CN Medium humanoid
  Init +6; Senses Perception +8
  DEFENSE
  AC 21, touch 15, flat-footed 18 (+5 armor, +2 Dex, +1 dodge, +2 
  deflection, +1 shield)
  hp 30 (6d8+3)
  Fort +3, Ref +7, Will +4; +4 vs. bardic performance, language–
  dependent, and sonic
  OFFENSE
  Speed 30 ft.
  Melee morningstar +5 (1d8+1) or dagger +5 (1d4/19-20)
  Ranged +1 shortbow +7 (1d6+1/x3)
  Special Attacks bardic performance 18 rounds/day 
  (countersong, distraction, fascinate [DC 17], inspire 
  competence +2, inspire courage +2, suggestion [DC 17])
  Bard Spells Known (CL 6th; concentration +10)
  2nd (4/day)—detect thoughts (DC 16), glitterdust (DC 
  16), misdirection (DC 15), tongues
  1st (5/day)—charm person (DC 15), cure light 
  wounds, grease (DC 15), unseen servant
  0 (at will)—detect magic, know direction, 
  prestidigitation, read magic, resistance, 
  summon instrument
  TACTICS
  Before Combat Wolfstan drinks his 
  potion of shield of faith
  During Combat Wolfstan opens 
  with grease aimed to catch as many 
  opponents as possible. He follows 
  up with glitterdust at any obvious 
  mages and then begins an inspire 
  courage performance and unslings 
  his bow. He tries to stay at range 
  as long as possible but changes 
  to his morningstar if he can’t get 
  away.
  Morale For all his claims of being 
  a hero, Wolfstan is a coward at 
  heart. If reduced to half his hit 
  points or below, he tries to flee, 
  using his tanglefoot bags to slow 
  pursuit.
  STATISTICS
  Str 12, Dex 14, Con 13, Int 10, Wis 
  8, Cha 18
  Base Atk +4; CMB +5; CMD 17
  Feats Dodge, Improved Initiative, Point 
  Blank Shot, Precise Shot
  Skills Bluff +13, Diplomacy +13, Disable Device 
  +5, Handle Animal +15, Intimidate +15, Knowledge 
  (nature) +12, Perception +8, Perform (oratory) +13, Perform 
  (percussion) +15, Sense Motive +13, Sleight of Hand +8, 
  Spellcraft +8
  Languages Common, Skald
  SQ bardic knowledge +3, lore master 1/day, versatile 
  performance (oratory, percussion)
  Combat Gear alchemist’s fire (2), potion of shield of faith, scroll 
  of delay poison, tanglefoot bags (2)
  Other Gear +1 chain shirt, buckler, +1 shortbow with 20 arrows, 
  morningstar, dagger, masterwork drum, everburning torch, 
  cold weather outfit, sled and dog team (4 riding dogs), thieves’ 
  tools, tindertwigs (5), 50 gp worth of trail gear
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Drawback Once acquainted with the PCs, Wolfstan chooses 
  them as the next target of his sabotage and potential “rescue”.  
  B
  
  P
  51
  L
  innorm Bones is a dice game popular in mead halls throughout 
  the Lands of the Linnorm Kings, especially during the winter 
  months when people find more time on their hands than good 
  sense.  The game requires players to gauge their odds as they play, for 
  each round at hand and the match as a whole.
  HOW TO PLAY
  Each player has five six sided dice and a 
  cup.  One die is off color from the others 
  and is referred to as “the Linnorm’s Head”. 
  When the match begins, all players roll their 
  Linnorm’s Head; this is “the Taking 
  of the Heads”.  The highest 
  die dictates the number of 
  rounds for the match.  All 
  ties for the highest die 
  roll are added together to 
  give the total length.  It is 
  not uncommon in larger 
  matches for a groan to be 
  heard throughout the mead 
  hall when an exceptionally long 
  match is rolled as it often ends with all 
  but one player leaving without a coin 
  in their purse.
  Play begins with each player placing the pre-
  determined ante into the Pot, followed by rolling 
  and covering their dice.  The player who rolled the lowest during the 
  Taking of the Heads begins the wagers.  If there was a tie for the 
  lowest roll, those members wager between themselves, beginning with 
  the youngest player, until there is only one wager remaining.  
  Regular wagering then progresses clockwise.  A player may match 
  or raise another’s wager, check if there is no wager, or drop from the 
  round.  When the wager makes it around the players without a raise, 
  the dice are revealed and the round’s winner is determined.
  Half the wagers go into the Pot and the winner or winners of the 
  round get the other half.  In the event of the tabled wagers not splitting 
  evenly, the remaining amount goes into the Pot.  The next round then 
  begins with the previous round’s winner starting the wagers.  When 
  a match is down to two players, all wagers feed the Pot until an end 
  game scenario occurs.
  If a player drops from a round, they score zero and must buy back 
  their dice next round to continue, paying five times the regular ante. 
  Otherwise they are out of the match.
  SCORING 
  Scoring in Linnorm Bones is fairly straightforward.  The total of the 
  dice determine a player’s round score, with a few special modifications 
  and combinations, and the highest total wins.  In the event of a tie, the 
  player with the highest Linnorm Head wins.  If the Linnorm Heads 
  tie, then the players tie for that round.  The sum of a player’s scores for 
  each round of the match is tracked as well.
  If a number appears on two dice, its value is doubled.  If it appears 
  on three dice, it is tripled.  If four dice, it is quadrupled.  The other 
  dice are added to this total.  If all five dice match, the combination 
  is called “the Winter Witch”.  A player unfortunate enough to roll 
  this combination must reveal it immediately.  They must then match 
  the amount that is in the Pot and are out of the match.  If the player 
  had won the previous round, the player to his left begins the 
  wagers.  Getting this combination late in a match 
  can be costly as the Pot tends to grow quickly. 
  Should a player not be able to match the Pot, they 
  pay what they have.  
  If the five dice form a sequence, 
  with the Linnorm Head as the 
  lowest die in the sequence, it is 
  called “the Lesser Wyrm”.  This 
  combination is worth 
  either 40 points (if the 
  range is one through five) 
  or 60 points (if the range 
  is two through six).  If 
  another player ties in score for 
  the round, the Lesser Wyrm wins.
  If the five dice form a sequence, with 
  the Linnorm Head as the highest die in the sequence, it is called “the 
  Great Wyrm”.  This combination is worth either 75 points (if the 
  sequence is one through five) or 100 points (if the sequence is two 
  through six).   If another player ties in score for the round, the Great 
  Wyrm wins.
  of ChanCe and sKiLL:
  Linnorm Bones
  by Dain “Zylphryx” Nielsen
  Art by Dave Mallon
  Dice Results
  Roll 
   
   
   
   
  Value  
   
   
   
   
  Name
  Single die 
   
   
   
  Equal to die 
  Doubles 
   
   
   
  Twice dice 
  Triples  
   
   
   
  Thrice dice 
  Quadruples 
   
   
   
  4 x total of dice 
  Quintuples (Yahtzee!) 
   
   
  Removed from game, pay to double pot  
  White Witch
  1–5 or 2–6, (Linnorm lowest) 
   
  40 or 60 
   
   
   
   
  Lesser Wyrm*
  1–5 or 2–6, (Linnorm highest)  
  75 or 100 
   
   
   
   
  Great Wyrm*
  4 6’s, 5 on the Linnorm Head 
   
  101 
   
   
   
   
   
  High King*
  *: High King, Great & Lesser Wyrms beat all ties.
  
  52
  If the dice come up with four sixes and the Linnorm Head is a five, 
  it is called “the High King”.  This combination is worth 101 points 
  and beats all other rolls, even if tied.
  WINNING THE MATCH
  Play continues until one of three scenarios plays out:
  • Only one player remains (all other players removed from play by 
  rolling the Winter Witch or dropping and not buying back their dice).
  • One player rolls the High King the same round another rolls the 
  Great Wyrm.
  • The round limit is reached with the last round played.
  When only one player remains, they receive the pot.  
  When a player rolls the High King in the same round another player 
  rolls the Great Wyrm, play ends and the High King takes the pot.
  If more than one player remains after the last round, the winner is 
  determined by the sum of their scores from all rounds.  In the event 
  of ties, special combinations are taken into account, with the High 
  King beating a total score without the High King, the Great Wyrm 
  beating any combination without the High King or the Great Wyrm, 
  etc.  If players are still tied, the pot is split among those with the 
  highest score.
  EXAMPLE OF PLAY
  Larsden, Ulric, Tomlin and Gunther sit down for a game.  They roll 
  their Linnorm Heads, resulting in 1, 2, 3, and 1, respectively.  As there 
  was no tie for the high roll, the match will last for 3 rounds.  Had 
  Ulric rolled a 3, the match would last for 6 rounds.
  Each player places 1gp ante into the Pot, bringing its total to 4 gp. 
  The dice are rolled, hidden beneath their cups, and the players check 
  their dice.  Since there was a tie for lowest die in the Taking of the 
  Heads, Larsden and Gunther begin the match by wagering against 
  each other beginning with the youngest player.  
  Larsden bids 1 gp, Gunther counters with 2 gp.  Larsden decides 
  not to raise and the wagering begins for the table.  Larsden follows 
  Gunther in play and throws in another 1 gp to match the current 
  wager.  Both Ulric and Tomlin match the 2 gp wager and the dice 
  are revealed.  
  Larsden reveals 1, 3, 3, 4 (LH), 5 … 22 points (1+4+5+2*(3+3)).
  Ulric reveals 2, 2, 2 (LH), 4, 6 … 28 points (4+6+3*(2+2+2)).
  Tomlin revels 1, 2, 3, 6, 6(LH) … 30 points (1+2+3+2*(6+6)).
  Gunther reveals 1, 3(LH), 5, 5, 6 … 30 points (1+3+6+2*(5+5)).
  As Tomlin’s Linnorm’s Head is higher than Gunther’s, Tomlin wins 
  the round and takes 4 gp from the table and the other 
  4 gp are placed into the Pot, bringing the Pot up 
  to 8 gp. 
  The second round begins with all the players 
  putting another 1 gp ante into the Pot, raising the 
  Pot to 12 gp, and rolling their dice. 
  When the players look at their dice, Tomlin 
  finds he has rolled 2, 2, 2, 2, 2; a Winter Witch. 
  He reveals his dice immediately and puts 12 gp into 
  the Pot, bringing it up to 24 gp, and is out of the match.
  As Tomlin had won the previous round, Ulric, who was 
  on his left, begins the wagers at 8 gp.  Gunther matches and 
  Larsden drops from the round.
  The remaining players reveal their dice.
  Ulric reveals 1 (LH), 2, 3, 4, 5 … 40 points (Lesser 
  Wyrm).
  Gunther reveals 2, 2, 5 (LH), 6, 6 … 37 points 
  (5+2*(2+2)+2*(6+6)).
  Ulric wins, takes 8 gp from the table and deposits 8 
  gp into the Pot, bringing it up to 32 gp.
  The third and final round begins with Ulric and Gunther putting 1 
  gp into the Pot while Larsden puts in 5 gp to rebuy his dice, bringing 
  the Pot up to 39 gp.
  After the roll, Ulric begins the wagers at 5 gp.  Gunther matches 
  and Larsden raises to 20 gp.  Both Ulric and Gunther match.
  Larsden reveals 3, 3, 3, 3, 6 (LH) … 54 points (6+4*(3+3+3+3)).
  Ulric reveals 2, 3 (LH), 3, 5, 5 … 34 points (2+2*(3+3)+2*(5+5)).
  Gunther reveals 3, 3, 3, 4 (LH), 4 … 43 points (3*(3+3+3)+2*(4+4)).
  Larsden wins, collecting 30 gp with the remaining 30 gp going into 
  the Pot, bringing it up to 69 gp.  
  As the last round of the match, the combined scores for the three 
  remaining players are tallied, resulting in 76 points for Larsden, 102 
  points for Ulric and 110 points for Gunther.
  Gunther walks away from the table as the winner of the match even 
  though he never won a single round.  B 
  Fan Art: 
  Aaron Filipowich
  
  53
  
  P
  54
  O
  stog Kviggson moved slowly through the knee-high snow 
  dragging a captured reindeer behind him. Tracking and 
  catching the creature had been a chore, but one well worth 
  it. The beast had tall, proud antlers, strong muscles, and a long, thick 
  brown coat. The meat and blood whiskey it would provide would feed 
  and render drunk half of Ostog’s clan. Its antlers would be ground 
  into powdered aphrodisiac and sold to southern traders back home in 
  Trollheim. The gold would buy many new weapons. The Ulfen hunter 
  beamed proudly at the thought.
  As if reading his mind, the 
  reindeer brayed in protest, its 
  moan echoing across the snowy 
  hillside. It stopped in its tracks, 
  refusing to continue. Ostog pulled 
  hard on the tether, but the animal 
  wouldn’t budge.
  “Come now, stubborn beast,” 
  Ostog shouted, giving the leash his 
  most forceful yank. The reindeer’s 
  head snapped to attention and 
  it let out another echoing groan. 
  Reluctantly, it resumed following 
  the Ulfen.
  The wind picked up and with 
  it a light snow began to fall. 
  The fine flakes feathered slowly 
  downward, powdering Ostog’s 
  dark wolf furs where they landed. 
  A chill accompanied the snow, 
  stabbing through his clothes like 
  tiny needles of ice. Ostog pulled 
  the furs tighter about his body, 
  and tugged urgently on the leash 
  hoping to urge the reindeer to 
  speed up.
  A faint, feminine voice in the 
  wind caused Ostog to stop dead 
  in his tracks. Instinctively he drew 
  his great club from the leather 
  sling on his back and held it at the 
  ready. He scanned the snowy hillside, holding his breath. The breeze 
  whistled through the trees scattering fresh snow over old drifts. Close 
  by, a river thundered. Gradually, Ostog could make out laughter in 
  the wind as well. The giggles turned into a joyous song, the delicate 
  voice carrying a sense of playfulness that stirred a strange feeling in 
  Ostog. He tried to pinpoint the source of the sound, thinking that 
  it came from the west, away from the snow-covered road. He knew 
  he shouldn’t leave the road, but his curiosity, and the strange feeling 
  in his stomach, got the better of him. Ostog turned west and began 
  trudging through the snow, hiking towards the sound.
  The hills grew larger and the snow began falling heavily, obscuring 
  Ostog’s vision in a shower of white. Ostog pulled the reindeer’s leash 
  in vain, but the beast would not follow him any further into the deep 
  snow. The animal used its great strength to turn around, forcing 
  Ostog back down the hill. The reindeer’s urgency struck Ostog as 
  strange, and he wondered if something had spooked it. He shook his 
  head. If anything, he felt the opposite. He walked back down the hill 
  and tied its leash in a thick knot around the trunk of a skeletal tree.
  “Stay,” Ostog said. He patted the beast’s neck, then turned back to 
  the mounds and began hiking up the deep snow.
  The cold wind froze snowflakes into Ostog’s full yellow beard and 
  against the exposed parts of his face. By the time he reached the crest 
  of the hill he resembled a child’s snowman. Shaking the ice from his 
  face, Ostog surveyed the landscape on the other side of the slope.
  Two hundred yards away from the snow capped mound, the 
  Rimeflow River ran furiously westward toward the Steaming Sea. 
  Thin, leafless trees stood scattered before the riverbank like watchful 
  guards. A larger, more robust tree appeared to hold court at the very 
  edge of the embankment. Looking for the source of the song, Ostog 
  saw a woman, with porcelain white 
  skin, sitting on one of the branches 
  in the larger tree. She sang in 
  a tongue that Ostog couldn’t 
  recognize, but he didn’t need to 
  understand her words to know 
  how beautiful they were. As she 
  sang she combed an azure colored 
  shell through her wet golden hair. 
  The enchanting sound danced on 
  the wind and into Ostog’s heart. 
  He stood on the hill for a while 
  listening to the song. It intoxicated 
  him more than the most potent 
  blood whiskey he’d ever had. In all 
  of Ostog’s life, he had never heard 
  anything so beautiful, so full of 
  innocence. In his hunter’s heart, 
  he never imagined that he could 
  be moved by any woman’s song in 
  such a way. He had to get closer 
  and hear more clearly.
  Ostog began descending the 
  hill, moving carefully to avoid 
  tumbling into the snow.  As 
  he neared the woman her song 
  quickened his heart and twisted 
  his stomach into a nervous knot. 
  Feeling like a blushing boy around 
  his first maiden, Ostog began 
  charging down the hill in his 
  desire to be closer. Ahead of him 
  the lithe, milk-white woman continued her song, blissfully unaware of 
  the Ulfen man. Ostog reached the base of the mound and broke into 
  a full run, his feet twisting awkwardly beneath him in the hindering 
  snow. He had cleared half of the distance to the river when his boot 
  caught on a buried root tangle and he crashed hard, headfirst into 
  ostog’s song
  by Robert “Malikjoker” Gresham
  Art by Liz Courts
  
  55
  the snow. Even half buried, he could still hear the angelic song of the 
  golden-haired woman and it pulled at his heart, urging him on.
  Determined, Ostog struggled back to his feet. As he looked to the 
  woman in the tree, he heard a pause in the song and saw that she 
  noticed him. She smiled sweetly at Ostog and leapt down from her 
  tree branch, landing softly in the snow. She began to dance, her arm 
  movements mimicking a graceful bird in flight and matching the 
  highs and lows of her voice. As she twirled, her golden hair fanned 
  out around her like a sunflower. The woman’s dance stirred a longing 
  inside Ostog that he hadn’t known even existed. He moved as fast as 
  he could toward the woman, eager to embrace and possess her.
  “Fair maiden, your song lightens my heart and lifts my soul,” Ostog 
  shouted. “How have you come to be out in this empty place?”
  The woman danced closer to the river’s edge causing Ostog’s heart 
  to leap in alarm. He pushed harder to reach her, terrified that she 
  would lose her footing. Slowly she moved into the river, the icy waters 
  lapping against her ankles. Aghast, Ostog began waving his arms to 
  get her attention. The woman didn’t notice. She took another step in, 
  unfazed as the water licked at her calves. Her song grew louder, more 
  joyous, and that joy filled Ostog, soothing away his fear.
  The Ulfen reached the large tree but the woman retreated deeper 
  into the Rimeflow. She stared at him with eyes of green flame, a gentle 
  laugh joining her song. Ostog wanted to lose himself in those eyes and 
  listen to her singing for the rest of his days.
  “My lady, the water, it’s dangerously cold,” Ostog said, finally 
  reaching the shore. “Please, swim over to me.”
  Giggling, she backed further into the depths, the waters reaching 
  her chest. Her golden hair floated on the surface, splayed out like rays 
  from the sun. Behind her the river moved much more rapidly, white 
  water frothing in the current.
  Ostog stepped into the river, the icy waters clamping around his feet 
  like steel bear traps. Pain shot up his legs with blinding intensity. The 
  woman continued to sing and Ostog found himself, against his better 
  judgment, wading deeper into the freezing cold water.
  “Tell me your name, my love,” the woman sang. Only her head 
  remained above the surface of the river.
  “Ostog, son of Kvigg,” he replied through chattering teeth. Desire 
  overwhelmed him. He wanted nothing more then to sweep her up in 
  his arms and never let her go. He waded in deeper, up to his knees. 
  The icy pain flooded his whole body now and his fingertips tingled as 
  sensation abandoned them.
  “Ostog my love, come to me, and stay with me forever.”
  Ostog continued forward, his body nearly completely numb from 
  hypothermia.
  “It...it is…too cold,” he said, powerless to turn back. He reached the 
  woman, his own head barely above hers.
  “Kiss me,” she said, the green flames burning fiercely in their 
  sockets. “My love will warm you and protect you from the cold. Kiss 
  me.”
  Ostog couldn’t feel his body and he couldn’t find the strength to 
  pull away. He knew that unless he left the river that very instant, he 
  would never leave. He tried to speak, to tell the woman this, but his 
  teeth clacked so hard against each other he could not form words. 
  The golden haired woman saw this and smiled sympathetically. 
  She embraced Ostog and kissed him, filling him with comforting 
  warmth. He no longer noticed the cold. Wrapping his arms around 
  her, he kissed her back, overjoyed to reciprocate her tender love. He 
  forgot all thoughts of leaving the freezing water. Lost in their passion 
  the pair slipped beneath the surface, disappearing into the icy river.  B
  
  P
  56
  A
  nd so it was that the old Jarl Gunnar Axe-biter had two sons. 
  As is often the way of these things, each was as different 
  from the other as Night from Day and, while one was strong 
  and brave, the other was known to be a weakling and a coward.
  At last the time came for the Jarl to begin his final journey 
  accompanying his king to the Valenhall and it seemed certain who 
  would hold the support of his father’s warriors and 
  claim his father’s household.
  When the Jarl’s younger son, 
  his craven son, his shameful 
  son, demanded that he 
  be given the right to 
  prove himself above 
  his brother, those 
  gathered 
  about 
  turned their faces 
  from him.
  Some 
  claimed 
  that if he would see 
  himself Jarl then 
  nothing should stop 
  him from proving 
  himself worthy to be 
  king. They swore that 
  they would see him hunt 
  the Linnorm, but his brother 
  was as wise as he was worthy and 
  would not see him slain over a matter such as this. 
  It was so decided that each would take to his horse the next dawn 
  and go from that place. They would each travel for three days and 
  three nights, seeking the greatest tribute to the memory of their 
  father’s rule. 
  He who returned with the finest prize would be the truest son and 
  heir.
  The strong son left at the first light of the morning, his axe and 
  shield in hand, but it was close to noon when his brother stirred. 
  Thinking to follow the elder, who would surely travel to the richest 
  hunting grounds, the Jarl’s second son rode out after the tracks in the 
  snow.
  Alas, Winter is a cruel thing and no friend of man. No sooner had 
  he departed than a great storm came down. 
  In the time it takes to skin a hare he was lost.
  For a long while he wandered without sign of direction or of rescue, 
  his hair and beard growing thick with ice.
  At last, as all hope was leaving him, he came upon a hunting lodge 
  out there in the wilds. Forcing open the door, his joy to find a fire 
  burning bright and warm within turned to horror as he saw in its light 
  that the hut was fashioned all from bones. A woman sat by the fire 
  and, while she smiled upon him kindly, he knew her for the witch she 
  must be and would draw no nearer—even with axe in hand.
  She asked him how his hunt fared. She told him that his brother 
  had passed by earlier, having tracked and slain two great bears—their 
  skulls and pelts to bring home for his father’s seat.
  All in a rage he turned to depart, keen to meet his brother’s 
  advantage, but hesitated as she called out to him again. The woman 
  spoke that she might aid him and, if he wished it so, would give him 
  means to victory. Reaching down beside herself, she drew out an old 
  leather taska-pouch and bade him reach deep into it, that he might 
  draw out what awaited him.
  Now it was that as well as a coward this man was also a fool and, 
  eager as he was to succeed at any cost, he did as he was instructed. 
  The pain was great.
  As he snatched his hand back he saw that something within had 
  claimed the two outer fingers. All that remained had been gnawed 
  down to two nubs of gristle, glistening and useless.
  With a word, the woman upended the bag before him and from 
  deep inside tumbled out the bones of four men, each red and slick as 
  a new-born.
  Even as he watched, these Bone Men pulled 
  themselves to their feet to stand ready and 
  waiting before him.
  She asked of him if this was not wonder 
  enough for any man. 
  While any true 
  Son of the North 
  would have spat 
  upon 
  her 
  foul 
  magic and slain her 
  on the spot, so great 
  was this brother’s want 
  for victory that he would 
  do nothing but accept her 
  gift. 
  He remained with her that 
  night. 
  What he offered in return no 
  man may know, but when he left the 
  following morning he had learned each and 
  every secret of the cursed device.
  It was proudly that he approached his father’s hall that final day, 
  drawn along in a great sleigh of bones with all that was left of him 
  covered over in soft winter furs. 
  Two score of the dead marched from his side to tap upon the door 
  with their long, long fingers.
  As the doors opened to let him in, he stepped down from his seat 
  and demanded that all must now accept him as rightful heir.
  He asked to see what little trinkets his brother could bring out to 
  match an undying raiding party and claimed that, with these new 
  followers at his command, he would bring pride to his family and raise 
  up the Hall as something all men must look upon in fear and wonder.
  Shamed to see his father’s memory tainted by such vileness, the old 
  Jarl’s first son, his brave son, his loyal son, led his warriors forward 
  with blades drawn to reclaim his honor.
  In the end though what man may stand against that which cannot 
  hero’s hoard: 
  Bag of hUngeroUs BONES
  by A. Morgaine 
  “Lostandlovingit” Newis-Edwards
  Art by Carlos Torreblanca
  
  57
  be slain?
  As the years passed, the Jarl’s second son used the bones of his 
  brother and all those who had dwelled beside him to repair what of 
  his domain had need of it.
  Little by little, honest wood and stone was replaced by the remains 
  of the fallen, the walls rising higher and higher. 
  The forge was allowed to grow cold, the drinking hall became silent 
  and soon enough not even a rat would suffer to dwell in that hateful 
  place. 
  From time to time, the new Jarl would dispatch his Bone Men to 
  the raiding, though he never had the want for it himself, being instead 
  content to sit alone in the High Seat of his Hall of emptiness and rot. 
  Master at last. 
  Bones now, having fed his flesh to the Bag for want of more and 
  more unending warriors, it is likely that he remains there to this day.
  He will continue to hold his home until the End of Days.
  Until the Kingdoms fall.
  Until only his hands remain.”
  Saga of the Svelta, as relayed by Valdis Ormstunga.
  BaG of HuNGerouS BoNeS 
  Aura moderate necromancy and conjuration; CL 8
  Slot —; Cost 25,000 gp; Weight 2 lbs 
  DESCRIPTION
  A tattered leather pouch the size of a haversack, this bag seems 
  always to be filled to the brim with gnawed, bloody bones. 
  Once per day, the bag of hungerous bones can be upended to 
  produce one of three things. Depending on the command word 
  uttered, the bones spilling 
  out arrange themselves 
  into one of the following:  four bloody human skeletons under 
  the control of the bag’s owner (as animate dead); a hut capable 
  of housing up to eight medium creatures (as secure shelter); 
  a sleigh with seating for six medium creatures (as phantom 
  chariot. Ultimate Combat page 239). 
  Skeletons produced by a bag of hungerous bones emerge 
  tattered and miss-matched, with parts clearly taken from a 
  variety of humanoid races. Their fingers are always overlong 
  and often possess extra joints.
  Accommodation provided by a bag of hungerous bones will 
  inevitably be drafty, filled with whispers and reeking like a 
  charnel house. 
  A sleigh created by a bag of hungerous bones is capable of 
  eight hours of travel before the rigors of continued movement 
  shake it to pieces entirely. While there are no creatures visibly 
  drawing the sleigh, the faint sound of skittering claws can be 
  heard with a moderate Perception check (DC 20).
  Activating a bag of hungerous bones is a full-round action.
  Anyone reaching into a bag of hungerous bones must make a DC 
  15 Reflex save or lose 1d2 fingers. Each living creature’s finger 
  consumed by the bag of hungerous bones grants an additional 
  use of the bag’s powers for that day. A creature that loses 
  more than half of its fingers on one hand suffers the effects 
  of a called shot to the hand (see Called Shots in Ultimate 
  Combat). Only a regenerate or limited wish spell can grow 
  these fingers back.
  CONSTRUCTION
  Requirements Craft Wonderous Item, animate dead, phantom 
  chariot, secure shelter; Cost 
  12,500 gp  B
  Fan Art:
  Stephen McAndrews
  
  P
  58
  I
  n a city as large as Kalsgard, it is only natural that characters of a less 
  than virtuous nature will gather, as it is easier for them to hide their 
  clandestine deals amongst the throng of city people than it would 
  be to do so out on the sparsely 
  populated 
  (and 
  sometimes 
  dangerous) countryside of the 
  Lands of the Linnorm Kings. 
  This article is a listing of some 
  of them.
  Tryggvi 
  Torkelsson 
  (CE 
  human rogue [chameleon]UC 
  3) owns a cunny warren in the 
  shadier part of the Fire Quarter, 
  which also serves as the home 
  and resting place for him and 
  his team of juvenile cutpurses 
  and beggar boys (all rogues or 
  commoners 1, with some of 
  the cutpurses using the Rogue 
  archetype of that name) working 
  for him throughout the city. 
  Tryggvi is a bully, quick to use 
  violence against any underlings 
  who have displeased him in 
  some way, yet equally quick 
  to back out of a fight against 
  someone whom he perceives 
  to be stronger than him. Since 
  his band of youngsters operates 
  across the city, in a pinch they 
  could be used as an information 
  gathering network as long as 
  Tryggvi is well paid for their 
  troubles. The boys and girls 
  working for him feel little 
  loyalty towards Tryggvi, and 
  would give up any knowledge 
  they have about him without prompting if caught, in the same way, 
  none of them will step in to defend him in case he’s attacked.
  The Scarlet Petals: These four wizards (Gvino Derbasa [CN 
  human wizard 4], Horsi Bulitti [CG human enchanter 5], Arabasta 
  Derbasa [CN halfling wizard 2, and Lykkova [NG halfling diviner 6) 
  originally hail from the Chelaxian city of Corentyn, but left that city in 
  a hurry when the local authorities discovered they were worshipers of 
  Milani. Escaping only because of Lykkova’s divinations, they boarded 
  the first ship they could find that had a captain willing to take on 
  passengers, and ended up in Kalsgard. They have now spent six years 
  in the city and have managed to build up a small network of agents 
  among the traders (or, rather, the sailors and bodyguards working 
  for those traders) travelling to and from Cheliax that carry messages 
  between them and other presumptive rebels throughout Cheliax. Their 
  feelings toward their new home is mixed, the youngest among them, 
  Arabasta, has found herself feeling quite at home, even if the winters 
  are very cold, and is often seen on the arm of a new Ulfen suitor as she 
  continues her investigation of the city’s entertainments. The three older 
  members of the cell, though, find Kalsgard to be a dreary place and are 
  thinking about relocating to Magnimar or Riddleport, although it’s 
  unlikely that Gvino would leave his younger sister on her own.
  “Pet” Gwillem (CG halfling rogue 4) lives in the Bone Quarter 
  from where he runs an arm of the Bellflower Network. He and the 
  halflings working with him specialise in spiriting slaves from the 
  holds of Chelaxian and Nidalese ships visiting Kalsgard. They also 
  provide transport to other parts of the Lands of the Linnorm Kings 
  or Varisia, especially Kaer Maga. He might be willing to help out 
  adventurers in other situations 
  if he takes a liking to them, 
  and is an excellent contact 
  for someone who wishes to 
  have something (or someone) 
  smuggled in or out of the city, 
  or who needs an “in” with 
  Kalsgard’s halfling community. 
  His old friend and mentor, 
  “Smiling” Göran, an Ulfen 
  sea-captain, went missing on a 
  trading journey to Rahadoum 
  a few years back. Indebted to 
  Göran, who tirelessly worked 
  with the Bellflowers to hide 
  escaped halfling slaves among 
  his non-living cargo, Gwillem 
  might even be willing to 
  join PCs in need of a skilled 
  trapper should they manage to 
  obtain information about his 
  whereabouts. 
  Egil 
  Threefingers 
  (N 
  human rogue [spy]APG 3) is 
  the chief clerk of Sveinn Blood-
  Eagle’s city watch, but he also, 
  (unbeknownst to his king) 
  serves as spymaster in the Lands 
  of the Linnorm Kings for the 
  House of Thrune. Egil has no 
  fondness for devils or the ideals 
  espoused by the diabolists of 
  Cheliax, but he does love Egil 
  and has a great fondness for 
  gold coins clinking in his purse. He has nine or ten agents throughout 
  the Linnorm lands, as well as one or two as far away as Algidheart 
  and Whitethrone in Irrisen. The most important of these is Toragils 
  Sörensson, a high-ranking member of Castellan Freyr Darkwine’s 
  court in Trollheim.  B
  sPooKs and other 
  shadY CharaCters of
  KARLSGARD
  by Karl J. “Kajehase” Haglund
  Art by Todd Westcot
  
  P
  59
  S
  agas are sung of Henrick Crowsfoot, who found an armband 
  crafted of the finest gold in the lair of a terrible multi-
  headed troll. Taking it as his own, he 
  discovered the next morning that there were 
  two identical armbands where once there 
  had been only one. The next morning, 
  and the morning after, he found 
  yet more armbands, and so he 
  paid bride price for the princess 
  of a tribe who dwelt nearby. 
  Henrick’s new father-in-law, 
  believing himself to be wealthy 
  beyond his wildest dreams, 
  was horrified to discover 
  on the ninth day that the 
  golden bracelets melted away 
  into morning dew. Furious 
  with Henrick, he named the 
  remaining bracelet the False 
  Draupnir and demanded justice 
  before the council. Too proud to 
  admit his foolishness, Henrick refused 
  to pay, although by now he had learned 
  firsthand of the draupnir’s curse. Harsh words were 
  spoken and the killing began. Both sides refused payment of wiregild, 
  and the strife became open war. When the slaughter was finally done, 
  Henrick’s entire line was gone and the neighboring tribe, weakened, 
  fell to slavers and their lands too became empty.
  falSe DrauPNir
  Aura faint conjuration; CL 7th (15th)
  Slot — ; Weight —
  DESCRIPTION
  This armband appears to be made of fine gold and depicts a 
  coursing hound. It is typical of Linnorm King treasure in that 
  it is meant to be worn by warriors and lords. The armband 
  appears to have a value of about 50 gp before its magical 
  properties are discovered. Unfortunately, this magic is of a 
  dark nature that has turned friend against friend and caused 
  countless feuds among the people of the northlands.
  The false draupnir appears at first to be a common armband, 
  but upon identification appears to have the beneficial power 
  of replicating itself nightly, so that when morning comes, two 
  rings are found where one once was. The higher caster level 
  of the two represents the actual difficulty level of learning 
  the true nature of the item’s powers. For indeed, the draupnir 
  does create copies of itself, making men believe themselves 
  rich beyond their wildest dreams, but these copies, while not 
  illusions, melt away into morning dew on the ninth morning 
  after their creation.
  CONSTRUCTION
  Magic Items Any magic bracer
  ADVENTURE HOOKS
  Feud: “Brands into their longhouses! We will not take weregild!”
  The false draupnir has struck again, and the party finds itself hired, 
  either to take vengeance on a rival, or discover who has “stolen” the 
  lost gold.
  An Ill Treasure: “What the Gods give, man should examine carefully.”
  Imagine the joy of a reaver or adventurer when the treasure they have 
  found duplicates itself! Of course, the ill-tempered reaver smith, woods 
  witch or local lord will be less than pleased when their payment melts 
  into morning dew, to be sure. This is the north, and vengeance 
  is certain.
  Payment lost: “Easy come, easy go”
  Paid in a cache of barbarian arm bands, 
  the party opens up the bag to find 
  several or all missing, only water 
  within. What has happened? Who 
  has cheated them?
  Delivering 
  the 
  cursed 
  armband: “Let us stir the pot, 
  and see what floats to the surface.”
   As it turns out, certain 
  grim, brutal gods of the north 
  employ the false draupnir in 
  order to spread strife and war 
  among mortals, the better 
  to pick strong souls for their 
  heavenly army. Now, they find 
  they need some fools to go and 
  recover this item from wherever 
  it has been lost. By “some fools”, of 
  course, they mean the PCs.
  OPTIONAL RULES
  Feel free to lower the payoff and value of the draupnir for low level 
  parties (15 gp is a lot per day at first level), and raise it for high level 
  parties (Ruby eyes on the hound! Now each band is worth 100 gp or 
  more.)
  If it works for your game, perhaps the created armbands continue to 
  exist until they are transferred to another’s possession, so a foolish king 
  can make a great horde, give it to a neighboring kingdom, and then 
  real mayhem can occur.
  Another option is to change how the ring operates, by not having 
  the rings disappear on each night, nine days after its creation. In this 
  build, if there is a group of armbands in one place, and one disappears, 
  they all revert to morning dew. This can bring a larger “oomph” to the 
  group than just finding one missing. In fact, when a cranky NPC finds 
  all of the treasure gone, hilarity ensues!
  Don’t be afraid to fudge this one. If the plot needs the rings to 
  disappear in 3 days, then that’s how long it will take. If it requires the 
  rings to stay for a month for maximum chaos, then that’s how long it 
  takes in your game world.  B
  hero’s hoard:
  faLse draUPnir
  by Nicholas “Lavachild” Milasich
  Art by Carlos Torreblanca
  
  60
  
  P
  61
  T
  he horns of the watchtowers wake me before dawn. I rise 
  from my bed, groan, and pull my fur cloak about me before 
  stepping out into the cold. Others are awake, running to the 
  south wall. 
   “Trolls!” The call echoes across the village. 
  I stride towards the south wall, my right knee 
  aching from the chill. I have grown old. At the 
  wall, the townsfolk are ready; the defenses I 
  designed are ready. Ignoring the pain in my knee, 
  I climb to the top of the palisade, where men hurl 
  stones down on the heads of our attackers. With 
  my one good eye, I see a dozen of the great, tusked 
  giants. Some have already scrambled into the dry 
  moat below the village wall. Soon they will ascend 
  the slope and attempt to climb the wall, or rend it 
  asunder with their claws.
  Our defenders know the plan. They will wait 
  until half are in the moat to proceed. As more 
  monsters descend, pots of oil—worth a quarter 
  of the season’s harvest profit—dash against the 
  moat’s bottom. Flaming brands follow, setting 
  the moat awash with fire. The roar of flames and 
  trolls nearly drown out the cheers of our warriors, 
  as our attackers clamber back out of the trench, 
  chased by the flaming arrows and javelins raining 
  down upon them. The trolls fall back from the 
  wall, rebuffed but not retreating. It is then I see 
  the warrior riding for them.
  He is a giant of a man, his horse equally grand. 
  Standing in the stirrups he can almost look a troll 
  in the eye. He bears a broad blade; arcane fire 
  dancing along its edge. The warrior swings in a 
  burning arc and severs an arm from the first troll 
  in his path. His mount bulls past two more as his 
  blade cleaves left and right, slicing and cooking 
  troll flesh as he passes. Another cheer sounds 
  from the wall. This is no mere man; but a force 
  of nature. His horse rears, dancing a circle on its 
  hind legs, turning in a flurry of hooves. Half the 
  trolls lie upon the frozen ground before I break 
  the spell, tearing my gaze away from this agent of 
  destruction.
   “You lot, come with me, half of you grab pikes, 
  the rest torches.” I lead a score of our warriors to the gate, grabbing 
  a long spear myself. Together we press the attack, charging the trolls 
  while they are engaged with the mounted warrior. Our sudden arrival 
  decides things. Three more trolls lie dead before the others decide to 
  flee. They don’t get far. The warrior gallops off in pursuit. I order our 
  warriors to dispose of the bodies, and then move to greet our deliverer.
  He dismounts as I approach. His horse must be eighteen hands 
  high, and though I am not a small man, this warrior stands a full 
  head taller. He is clad all in brown—leather and bearskin over steel 
  mail—and his shield bears the visage of a great bear’s head upon it in 
  profile, painted in white, with the blue steel boss at the center as its 
  eye. His hair, golden-red, falls in curling locks about his broad face. 
  His beard is short. As we stand face to face, I note with jealousy that 
  no gray hairs nest there. He extends his hand to clasp my forearm. His 
  grip is like iron, his gaze even. Eyes the color of the sky before a storm 
  take my measure.
  “I am Halthor,” he says. “You are the headman?”
  “I am. Agnar Hrolfson, servant of Erastil. We owe you thanks.” 
  Halthor smiles. Suspicious as I am, it looks more like the grin of a 
  lolling wolf than a friend.
  “A meal, a drink, and a warm bed are thanks enough,” he says, 
  patting his scabbard. “Eldrbrand is always glad of a chance to hew 
  troll-flesh.”
  ChamPion of the
  PeoPLe
  by Jeff  “Shadowborn” Lee
  Art by Ashton Sperry
  
  62
  So he was that Halthor. The magic blade was more famous than the 
  warrior who bore it, but not by much. These were not the first trolls to 
  meet defeat under that blade.
  “Then be welcome in Breckholm, and receive our gratitude and 
  hospitality.” I motion toward the gates, and escort him in. Halthor 
  gets ahead of me as I stop to tend to a young woman with a gash in 
  her upper arm from a troll’s claw. Touching the age-darkened wooden 
  symbol hung about my neck, I murmur a brief prayer. The magics 
  staunch the bleeding, close the torn flesh. I smile at her and then catch 
  up to our guest. Just inside the gate a crowd of cheering folk surrounds 
  him. With a glance and a gesture, I send a boy to take Halthor’s mount 
  to the stable. A few words in the right ears and preparations begin for 
  a feast as our guest is conducted to the meeting hall. With Halthor 
  occupied, I attend to business: ensuring the pits are covered again, oil 
  and weapons restocked. I send runners to check on outlying farms and 
  see that any further injuries are cared for. The sun is high by the time 
  I see Halthor again.
  I spend the feast in silence. Between the chatter of villagers, 
  Halthor’s boasting, and our fool bard retelling tales the warrior has 
  already told, there is too much talk anyway. I tally the food expended 
  in my head, confident our stores will hold through the winter despite 
  the excess. I am too much into my cups. I do not know how long it 
  is before I note the lessening of noise, the somber atmosphere that 
  blankets the hall. Halthor is in the midst of a speech, and it is as I 
  predicted.
  “At sunrise I shall face the wyrm in its lair, slay the beast, take its 
  head, and return as the next Linnorm King.” 
  Silent faces gaze back at him from the hall. I stand as he finishes 
  speaking, raise my goblet and break the silence myself. “Breckholm! 
  Raise your cups and hail Halthor the Mighty. Trollslayer! Crownseeker! 
  Hail!”
  “Hail!” The call echoes through the hall. Halthor stands proud. I 
  suggest he rest before his venture, offering the hospitality of my home 
  and he agrees. 
  *                   *                    *
  We sit, sharing a drink by the fire. A horn of mead for him, but only 
  water in my cup. I can feel his eyes tracing the scars that run from my 
  blind eye down my face, marring my beard before disappearing under 
  my tunic.
  “You bear the marks of a warrior,” he says.
  “I was much like you, long ago. I did not find the call of Erastil 
  until after I made my home here. These scars mark my last fight and 
  only defeat.” His gaze looks east, toward the mountain invisible now 
  in the dark. I nod.
  “Yes, I faced Hällafang, the ice linnorm. I failed.”
  “Yet you live,” he says, the question apparent in his face.
  “She allowed me to live, to give testament to her might.”
  “Tell me,” Halthor demands. 
  I shake my head. “You know her power. My tale will not deter you. 
  You see the result. I can only thank Erastil that he led me here. I have 
  a home and purpose once again.”
  Halthor nods, but does not relent.
  “Tell me one thing. The tales of the second entrance, on the 
  mountainside overlooking your village. It is there?”
  “It is,” I reply.
  Halthor gives a wolfish smile. “Then I shall use it, and take the 
  wyrm by surprise.” His confidence is palpable. He drains the rest of 
  his mead and stands. “I shall leave you to your rest, and see you in the 
  morning.” 
  I nod in reply, as he moves off to the bed prepared for him. I stare 
  out the window towards the mountain as if I can see it, until sleep 
  claims me.
  I awake hours later to the jangle of mail. Halthor is dressing. The 
  sky is gray with predawn light. We break fast together, and share a 
  final hand-clasp at my door.
  “Say a prayer to Old Deadeye for me.”
  “Erastil is not a god of war or glory. I pray that we all stay safe from 
  the wyrm.” 
  “As you say, priest. Farewell.”
  I watch him mount and ride through the gate from my hilltop 
  vantage point, and then shut the door. I add a log to the fire, trying to 
  drive the chill from my bones. Hanging on the wall above the mantle 
  are the last remnants of my past: a steel shield, rent in twain, a broken 
  sword, and a horn. I take down the latter, the remnant of a great bull, 
  reinforced with a bronze cap and bands.
  I move to the window, watching the sky go from gray to pink, the 
  mountain crags gaining depth and 
  definition. Halthor, now distant, 
  comes into view. I sound a long 
  blast. He wheels his horse about, and 
  thinking the hail meant for him, he 
  raises a hand in final farewell, then 
  turns back to his quest.
  Once the sun has risen, I take half 
  the shield from the wall and turn it 
  over. I have brushed and polished the 
  inside to a mirror-like sheen. I hold 
  it out the window, flashing a pre-
  agreed signal, repeating it at intervals 
  to ensure it is seen. Now the linnorm 
  is forewarned; she will be ready. 
  Whoever wins, wyrm or warrior, I 
  have fulfilled my oath and done my 
  duty as protector and champion: 
  Breckholm will remain untouched 
  by the linnorm’s ravages.  B
  Copyright 2011 Know Direction
  Cut & Fold to Assemble
  Listen to us free at: http://www.35PrivateSanctuary.com
  The Pathfinder News, Reviews, 
  & Interviews Podcast
  Know Direction
  Orc in a 10’ x 10’ Room
  Broght to
  You By
  
  P
  63
  P
  athfinder Grand Lodge, Absalom
  Informant: Scip-Hadni, Varni Rimesinger? (see notes)
  Location: The Icemark steppes, Lands of the Linnorm 
  Kings (Nithveil?  The Inn of the Blue Pony?)
  Date: ??? (When was this collected?)
  Pathfinder: ??? (Who collected this?)
  Transcript: 
  This is a tale told by my grandmother, as told to her by a brownie 
  servant in the Inn of the Blue Pony, a tiny house in the fairy city of 
  Nithveil.
  Once every generation or so–more often when it happens more 
  often, less when it happens less–all the gremlins of Golarion gather 
  for a Grand Moot.  The wicked jinkins and the unlucky pugwumpis, 
  the crafty grimolochins and the unspeakable psammeads, the vexgits 
  who unfix the runners of sleds and the nuglubs who smother babes 
  then place them back in their sleeping mother’s arms, and many other 
  gremlins beyond counting or countenancing, all gather together in the 
  First World.
  There, so the brownie told my grandmother, the gremlins swap 
  stories of misery sown, of chaos caused, and of lives ruined, or, to 
  use the gremlins’ own words, “made more interesting,” for it must 
  be remembered that gremlins are fey, and while they do not care in 
  the slightest if anyone dies, they have little regard for a boring or 
  inappropriate death.  A nuglub who simply kills a victim earns no 
  respect, but one who murders a person in singularly novel or poetic 
  fashion or in such a way that all the survivors believe that another 
  has done it?  That is high art and fine craft.  Indeed, more than one 
  nuglub has risen to King of the Gremlins for orchestrating a single 
  murder and then laying false blame that leads to a blood feud or even 
  a war between nations.
  The brownie told her that many gremlins have been king or queen, 
  sometimes for a season, sometimes for a century.  The fey do not 
  measure time as we do.  Moreover, the gremlins choose not only 
  their ruler, but also who is a gremlin.  If other fey convince them of 
  their novelty and ingenuity for mischief, of their talent for creating 
  misery and consternation, then they may not be declared an honorary 
  gremlin, but can win the gremlin’s highest acclaim, being given the 
  wyrdstone scepter, and declared king or queen, at least for as long as 
  they continue to amuse their subjects.
  Indeed, as the brownie confided in my grandmother, it is said that 
  a human maid once found her way to the Gremlin Moot and spun 
  her own tale of mischief, how she had conspired to ruin her sisters’ 
  marriage prospects, and so was elected Gremlin Queen herself.
  Who this maid is or when this was the brownie did not know or 
  was perhaps too afraid to say, but the Gremlin Queen must be keeping 
  her subjects amused because it has been a while since the last Grand 
  Moot....
  Grand Lodge notation: A transcript from an unnamed Pathfinder 
  told by a named bard relating a tale told by his unnamed grandmother 
  second-hand from an unnamed brownie in Nithveil, a city from the First 
  World that manifests in random locations in the Lands of the Linnorm 
  Kings?  We cannot possibly include this in the official Pathfinder 
  Chronicles.  That said, it’s intriguing enough to bear further investigation, 
  and alarming as well.  Grimolochins?  Psammeads?  The wyrdstone 
  scepter?  B
  moot, a foLKtaLe
  by Kevin Andrew Murphy
  Art by Dave Mallon
  Fan Art:
  Chris Leaper 
  
  64
  
  P
  65
   
  BEASTS OF THE FROZEN WATERS
  The Land of the Linnorm Kings is defined by water. Its Ulfen 
  warriors travel and trade by way of the sea and its beaches and moors 
  provide the game on which many families feed. Unfortunately for 
  them, the Ulfen may find themselves hunted in return by the many 
  strange creatures inhabiting these cold waterways.
  NYCAR
  This green serpentine creature has two clawed forelegs and a dragon-
  like head.
  NYCar 
                                       Cr 4
  XP 1,200
  NE Medium dragon
  Init +6; Senses darkvision 
  60 ft., scent; 
  Perception +7
  DEFENSE
  AC 16, touch 12, flat-
  footed 14 (+2 Dex, 
  +4 natural)
  hp 30 (4d12+4)
  Fort +5, Ref +6, Will 
  +5
  Defensive Qualities 
  ferocity; DR 5/
  magic
  OFFENSE
  Speed 30 ft., swim 
  30 ft.
  Melee bite +6 (1d8+2 
  plus disease), 2 
  claws +6 (1d4+2)
  Spell-like 
  Abilities (CL 4th, 
  concentration +5)
   Constant—pass without 
  trace
  STATISTICS
  Str 15, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 5, Wis 13, Cha 12
  Base Atk +4; CMB +6; CMD 18 (cannot be tripped)
  Feats Improved Initiative, Skill Focus (Stealth)
  Skills Climb +8, Perception +7, Stealth +11, Swim +16
  Languages Draconic (cannot speak)
  ECOLOGY
  Environment cold marshes
  Organization solitary, pair or knot (3-8)
  Treasure standard
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Disease (Ex) Dragon rot: Bite—injury; save Fort DC 13; onset 
  1 hour; frequency 1/day; effect 1d3 Str and 1d3 Con; cure 2 
  consecutive saves. The save DC is Constitution based.
  Nycars are small, degenerate offshoots of dragon-kind that live in 
  desolate moors and marshes. Some refer to them as “pseudo-linnorms”, 
  due to their similarly serpentine shapes. Nycars are only dimly 
  intelligent, but savage and cruel in their behavior, and like nothing 
  more than to stalk prey for hours before closing in for the kill. Their 
  slow metabolism suits their formidable habitat, and a large meal can 
  sustain a nycar for several months. Nycars collect treasure, as if aping 
  their more intelligent cousins—the shinier the bauble, the better. The 
  Linnorm King Opir Eightfingers keeps two nycars as guard-beasts, to 
  which he feeds choice table-scraps and the occasional prisoner.
  POHTON
  Long and lean, this whale-like creature has a scaled hide like a fish and 
  a powerful finned tail. Its huge jaws bristle with jagged teeth.
  PoHtoN 
                                       Cr 8
  XP 4,800
  N Huge magical beast (aquatic)
  Init +1; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, scent; 
  Perception +10
  DEFENSE
  AC 20, touch 10, flat-footed 18 (+1 
  Dex, +1 dodge, +10 natural, -2 
  size)
  hp 105 (10d10+50)
  Fort +12, Ref +8, Will +5
  Resist cold 10 
  OFFENSE
  Speed 10 ft., swim 80 ft.
  Melee bite +15 (2d8+7 
  plus 2d4 bleed plus 
  grab/19-20), tail slap +10 
  (1d8+3)
  Ranged sea-spray 
  +9 ranged touch (4d6 
  nonlethal plus push)
  Space 15 ft.; Reach 10 
  ft.
  Special Attacks push 
  (10 ft.), swallow whole 
  (2d8+10 bludgeoning 
  damage, AC 15, 10 hp)
  STATISTICS
  Str 24, Dex 13, Con 20, Int 
  3, Wis 15, Cha 8
  Base Atk +10; CMB +19; CMD 
  BestiarY
  by Craig Cartin, Rich “Rebis 
  Ouroboros” Crotty, Danielle “D 
  Noir” Doss, Robert “Snorter” 
  Feather, Guy “Ulgulanoth” Fox, 
  Nick “Demiurge1138” Herold, Jeff 
  “Shadowborn” Lee, Robert Little, 
  Kevin Andrew Murphy, and 
  Alex “Daviot” Putnam
  Art by Tyler Clark, Crystal 
  Frasier, Stephen McAndrews, 
  and Todd Westcot
  
  66
  31
  Feats Dodge, Improved Critical (bite), Mobility, Power Attack, 
  Spring Attack
  Skills Perception +10, Swim +23
  SQ amphibious
  ECOLOGY
  Environment any ocean
  Organization solitary, pair, pod (4-8)
  Treasure none
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Sea-spray (Ex) As a standard action, a pohton can spray a 
  torrent of water at a single target within 60 ft. This is a ranged 
  touch attack that deals 4d6 points of nonlethal damage and 
  subjects the target to the pohton’s push ability. The sea-spray 
  puts out non-magical fires of Large size or smaller.
  Pohtons are the bane of fisherman and sailors alike. These aggressive 
  carnivores feed on almost anything that lives in the sea; mostly fish 
  and seals, but they will tear apart even the largest whales if given 
  a chance. Humans are no exception, and these predators will target 
  boats, either tearing holes in their bows and sinking them or using 
  their sea-spray to knock sailors into the water one by one. Due to 
  this impact on shipping in waters inhabited by pohtons, White Estrid 
  of the Linnorm Kings has offered a bounty of 1,500 gold pieces per 
  pohton head.
  Despite their voracity, pohtons are not evil and are in fact highly 
  social creatures that travel in family groups and care for their young. 
  They are simply not intelligent enough to distinguish human beings 
  from all the other sorts of meat available to them. 
  SEAL
  This tube-shaped beast has four flippers for limbs and a whiskered, 
  dog-like head.
  Seal 
                                      Cr ½ 
  XP 200
  N Medium animal
  Init +1; Senses low-light vision, Perception +5
  DEFENSE
  AC 12, touch 11, flat-footed 11 (+1 Dex, +1 natural)
  hp 13 (2d8+4)
  Fort +5, Ref +4, Will +1
  OFFENSE
  Speed 15 ft., swim 40 ft.
  Melee bite +2 (1d4+1)
  STATISTICS
  Str 12, Dex 13, Con 15, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 7
  Base Atk +1; CMB +2; CMD 13 (17 against trip)
  Feats Endurance
  Skills Perception +5, Swim +13
  SQ hold breath
  ECOLOGY
  Environment cold and temperate oceans
  Organization solitary, pair, bob (3-6) or colony (20-80 plus 50% 
  noncombatant young)
  Treasure none
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Hold Breath (Ex) A seal can hold its breath for a number of 
  minutes equal to six times its Constitution score before it risks 
  drowning.
  Seals, or pinnipeds, are common sea-mammals distantly related to 
  bears. Unlike whales and dolphins, they have not lost the ability to 
  move on land and indeed must return to the shoreline in order to 
  mate and breed. It is on the beaches that they are most commonly 
  hunted by the Ulfen, as adult seals yield meat and oil, and the fur of 
  the pups is soft and warm. All seals are carnivorous, eating fish and 
  squid—larger seals such as leopard seals and sea lions may supplement 
  this diet with sea birds and even other seals. 
  Sea lions, related to seals, have more flexible flippers and are as 
  such more mobile on land. A sea lion uses the statistics of a seal with 
  the giant simple template and a land speed of 25 feet. Leopard seals 
  are large predaceous seals that can pose a threat to humans in their 
  waters. A leopard seal uses the statistics of a seal with the advanced 
  and giant simple templates.
  Seal Animal Companions 
  Starting Statistics: Size Medium; Speed 15 ft., swim 40 ft.; AC 
  +1 natural armor; Attack bite (1d4); Ability Scores Str 12, Dex 13, 
  Con 14, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 7; Special Qualities low-light vision, 
  hold breath.
  4th-Level Advancement: Size Large; AC +3 natural armor; Attack 
  bite (1d6); Ability Scores Str +8, Dex -2, Con +4
  ELEPHANT SEAL
  This immense blubbery beast trundles forward on massive flippers, a 
  floppy snout hanging over a tusked maw.
  elePHaNt Seal 
                                       Cr 6
  XP 2,400
  N Huge animal
  Init -1; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision; Perception +7
  DEFENSE
  AC 12, touch 7, flat-footed 12 (-1 Dex, +5 natural, -2 size)
  hp 94 (9d8+54)
  Fort +12, Ref +5, Will +4
  OFFENSE
  Speed 20 ft., swim 60 ft.
  Melee bite +14 (2d6+13)
  Space 15 ft.; Reach 10 ft.
  STATISTICS
  Str 28, Dex 9, Con 23, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 11
  Base Atk +6; CMB +17; CMD 26 (30 against trip)
  Feats Dazzling Display, Endurance, Intimidating Prowess, 
  Shatter Defenses, Weapon Focus (bite)
  Skills Intimidate +15, Perception +7, Swim +23
  SQ hold breath (as seal), terrifying
  ECOLOGY
  Environment cold oceans
  Organization solitary, pair or rookery (3-12 plus 40-80 females 
  [see below])
  Treasure none
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Terrifying (Ex) Intimidate is always a class skill for elephant 
  seals
  Largest of all species of seal, the elephant seal is a brute of monstrous 
  proportions. Despite their size and fearsome teeth, they eat only 
  squid; their armament is used in defense of territories. Bull elephant 
  seals maintain huge harems of females and battle bloodily with other 
  males to control their turf. These fights can be fatal for the loser. 
  Their weapons can easily be turned onto other threats, however—
  
  67
  only a foolish or suicidal hunter would dare pursue elephant seals. 
  Elephant seal males would rather posture and threaten than actually 
  fight—only if their elaborate threat displays are not heeded will one 
  of the great beasts charge.
  These statistics represent bull elephant seals. A cow elephant seal 
  is much smaller and less aggressive by nature—they can be modeled 
  using the statistics for an ordinary seal with the giant and advanced 
  simple templates.  
  DEATH’S HEAD DRAKE
  This drake’s powerful body, wide wings, and long slender tail 
  are covered in short black feathers, while its four legs and head are 
  sheathed in a layer of bone-white horn.  Its face and eyes are clearly 
  draconic, belying its somewhat avian appearance.
  DeatH’S HeaD DraKe  
                                        Cr8
  XP 4,800
  N Large dragon
  Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, scent; 
  Perception +15
  DEFENSE
  AC 20, touch 12, flat-footed 17 (+2 Dex, +1 dodge, +8 natural, -1 
  size)
  hp 94 (9d12+36)
  Fort +10, Ref +8, Will +8; +4 vs. disease
  Defensive Abilities DR 5/bludgeoning or magic; Immune filth 
  fever, paralysis, sleep; Resist cold 10
  OFFENSE
  Speed 40 ft., fly 150 ft. (average)
  Melee 2 claws +13 (1d6+5), bite +13 (1d10+5 plus disease), tail 
  slap +8 (1d8+2)
  Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft. (10 ft. with tail slap)
  Special Attacks breath weapon (40 ft. cone, DC 20, 6d6 cold 
  and piercing plus disease, usable every 1d4 rounds), raven’s 
  guide
  STATISTICS
  Str 20, Dex 14, Con 18, Int 4, Wis 14, Cha 10
  Base Atk +9; CMB +15; CMD 27 (31 vs. 
  trip)
  Feats Ability Focus (breath weapon), 
  Alertness, Dodge, Hover, Power 
  Attack
  Skills Appraise +1, Fly +6, 
  Intimidate +6, Perception +15, 
  Survival +14, Use Magic Device 
  +6
  Languages Draconic
  SQ raven’s friend
  ECOLOGY
  Environment cold hills or plains
  Organization solitary or pair
  Treasure standard
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Breath Weapon (Su) Once every 1d4 
  rounds, a death’s head drake can 
  spray a 40 ft. cone with a mixture 
  of rimy bile and shards of sharpened 
  bone.  This attack deals 6d6 damage; 
  half the damage is cold damage, but the 
  other half is piercing damage and is not subject 
  to resistance to cold-based attacks, though damage 
  reduction applies normally.  In addition, any creature that fails 
  its Reflex save must make an additional DC 20 Fortitude save 
  or contract filth fever. The save DC is Constitution-based.
  Disease (Ex) Filth fever: Bite or breath weapon—injury; save 
  Fort DC 18; onset 1d3 days; frequency 1/day; effect 1d3 Dex 
  damage and 1d3 Con damage; cure 2 consecutive saves. The 
  save DC is Constitution-based.
  Raven’s Guide (Su) Once per day, a death’s head drake can call 
  forth 1d4+1 raven 
  swarms as a standard 
  action.  These 
  creatures arrive in 2d6 
  rounds and serve the 
  drake for up to 1 hour, 
  though they may 
  remain in the area if 
  sufficient carrion is 
  available.
  Raven’s Friend (Ex) 
  A death’s head 
  drake is immune to 
  damage, blindness, 
  and distraction effects 
  caused by raven 
  swarms.  Crows, 
  ravens, and similar 
  birds of the animal 
  type do not attack a death’s head drake unless compelled to do 
  so by magic.
  Also called the bone drake or raven drake and referred to in Skald 
  by such kennings as “Raven Guide”, “Swan of Bones”, and “Carrion-
  Jarl”, death’s head drakes are powerful, animalistic, but surprisingly 
  nonaggressive scavengers. Content to loom over battlefields in a cloud 
  of ravens or carrion crows until flesh 
  is available, they only 
  hu nt i n g 
  when 
  NOTE:
  Raven swarms appear in 
  the Tome of Horrors Complete, 
  but can be approximated by a 
  bat swarm with the advanced 
  template.  Instead of causing 
  bleed, creatures damaged by 
  a raven swarm must make a 
  Fortitude save or be blinded for 
  1d4 days or until healed.
  
  68
  times are lean.  Physically unusual for its black bird-like feathers, its 
  armored scutes underneath are actually bone-white, its featherless 
  head and legs keeping it hygienic despite its diet; it’s fused facial armor 
  forming a skull-like keratinous outer layer, hence its name.
  Unlike most drakes, death’s heads will typically only attack if 
  confronted in their lair, if a mate is attacked, or if a creature attacks 
  them or their “pet” ravens. Most are content are to allow a humanoid 
  or other scavenger within yards so long as it does not challenge them 
  for possession of a meal, and even mighty Ulfen warriors know to 
  let a death’s head have its fill before retrieving a fallen comrade or 
  an enemy’s effects.  Like crows, jackdaws, and true dragons, death’s 
  head drakes enjoy shiny objects and will often hoard interesting items 
  from their food, though not necessarily the most valuable. Death’s 
  head drakes have a rudimentary understanding of Draconic, but 
  rarely speak more than single-word warnings to those challenging it. 
  Although juveniles are solitary, adults usually mate for life, though 
  they hunt separately, brooding yearly, with a clutch of one to three 
  eggs.  Somewhat common in northwest Avistan and the Crown of 
  the World, death’s head 
  drakes can live up to 150 
  years, and are about 
  10 feet long with tail, 
  weighing in around 
  800 pounds.
  THE HONORED DEAD: EINHERJAR
  Einherjar (“lone warriors”) are the honored dead of the Ulfen, 
  many former Linnorm Kings, who were restored to a semblance of 
  life following their arrival at Valenhall.  They appear as they did 
  prior to their death, whole in body and with a fire of spirit that is 
  unquenchable.  They serve as guardians at Valenhall, while others 
  actively protect the Ulfen people.  In particular, many einherjar hunt 
  the evil creatures known as wendigo, seeking to destroy or imprison 
  the cannibal spirits before they can spread their curse further through 
  the North.
  CREATING AN EINHERJAR
  “Einherjar” is an acquired template that can be added to any living, 
  corporeal humanoid. An einherjar retains the base creature’s statistics 
  and special abilities except as noted here.
  CR: Same as the base creature +1.
  Alignment: Any, except neutral evil and chaotic evil.
  Type: The creature’s type changes to undead.  Do not recalculate 
  HD, BAB, or saves.
  Senses: An einherjar gains darkvision 60 ft.
  Defensive Abilities:  An einherjar gains DR 5/slashing (if HD 
  11 or less) or 10/slashing  (if HD 12 or more), cold resistance 10, 
  and channel resistance +4 in addition to all of the defensive abilities 
  granted by the undead type.. An einherjar can eat and drink. 
  Special Abilities: An einherjar gains the following special attacks.
  Hearth of Valenhall (Su):  Einherjar are not fuelled by energies 
  from the negative material plane, but rather a spiritual tie to the First 
  World.  Positive and negative energy affect an einherjar  as a living 
  creature.  Effects which control or influence undead (such as the spells 
  command undead or hide from undead) affect an einherjar normally,
  Meat and Mead (Su): Once per day when an einherjar consumes a 
  meal containing freshly cooked meat and alcoholic drink, he gains 
  the benefits of heroes’ feast.  If a einherjar consumes a heroes’ feast, 
  the morale bonus to attack rolls and Will saves is doubled and the 
  einherjar becomes immune to fear for the duration of the spell.
  Spell-like Abilities: An einherjar with a Charisma score of 11 
  or higher gains the ability to cast phantom steed at will as 
  a spell-like ability (CL 8th). The einherjar may only 
  create one steed at a time.
  Abilities: Str +2, Dex +2, Cha +2.  An 
  einherjar enjoys bonuses due to age gained 
  prior to death, but does not suffer the 
  penalties.  As an undead creature, an 
  einherjar has no Constitution score.
  Skills: An einherjar with racial 
  Hit Dice has skill points per racial 
  Hit Die equal to 4 + its Intelligence 
  modifier.
  EINHERJAR AND THE 
  FAITHFUL
  Einherjar 
  are 
  the 
  honored 
  dead, those among the Ulfen who 
  were celebrated for their victories 
  in battle and their fearlessness in 
  the face of death.  However, being 
  honored does not change the fact 
  that they are undead and the faithful 
  of many different deities have opinions on 
  their continued existence.
  Pharasma: Priests of the Lady of Graves assume that 
  einherjar are no different than any other undead and seek their 
  destruction.  However, many of the priests’ usual means of fighting the 
  undead are ineffective against einherjar. Einherjar have the support of 
  their living shield mates, if not whole communities of Ulfen warriors 
  willing to fight by their side.  Ultimately, all but the most militant 
  members of the church of Pharasma chooses to turn a blind eye to the 
  einherjar, rather than raise the ire of the North.
  Cayden Cailean: Although there have been einherjar for far longer 
  than Cayden Cailean has been a god, some outsiders (including some 
  followers of the Drunken Hero) believe that he is responsible for the 
  creation of the einherjar.  In truth, while many einherjar are more 
  than willing to raise a mug to Cayden, the beliefs of the lone warriors 
  run the whole gamut of Ulfen faiths.
  The Eldest:  The kings of the north earn their crowns by defeating 
  linnorms and presenting their heads as trophies. This act draws the 
  ire of Ragadahn the Water Lord: the father of all linnorms and one of 
  the Eldest of the First World.
  
  69
  Besides Ragadahn, it is likely that the einherjar have ties to another 
  of the Eldest, but which is up to speculation.  The energy which 
  animates their forms seeps through the thin barrier separating the 
  First World from Valenhall, but there is a directing force which 
  selects which of the honored dead that arrive at those halls will rise 
  as einherjar. 
  FROSTED CREATURE TEMPLATE
  Frosted creatures have adapted to the constant cold of the far north. 
  This template cannot be applied to incorporeal creatures or creatures 
  with the Fire subtype.
  Rebuild Rules:
  Type: gain the cold subtype; AC increase natural armor by +5; 
  Defensive Abilities gain immunity to cold; Weaknesses vulnerability 
  to fire; Ability Scores +2 to Con; Special Qualities frosted, tundra 
  sight
  Frosted (Su) A frosted creature deals an additional 1d6 cold 
  damage with its natural and unarmed attacks. Any creature attacking 
  it with natural or unarmed attacks also suffers 1d6 cold damage for 
  each successful attack.
  Tundra Acclimation (Ex) Frosted creatures suffer no penalties on 
  Perception checks or to movement due to snow or ice.
  SPiDer, froSteD HuNtiNG                                       Cr 2
  XP 600
  N Medium vermin (Cold)
  Init +3; Senses darkvision 60 ft., tremorsense 60 ft.; 
  Perception +4
  DEFENSE
  AC 19, touch 13, flat-footed 16 (+3 Dex, +6 natural)
  hp 19 (3d8+6)
  Fort +5, Ref +4, Will +1
  Immune cold, mind-affecting effects; Vulnerability fire
  OFFENSE
  Speed 30 ft., climb 30 ft.
  Melee bite +2 (1d6 plus 1d6 cold plus poison) 
  STATISTICS
  Str 11, Dex 17, Con 14, Int —, Wis 10, Cha 2
  Base Atk +2; CMB +2; CMD 15 (27 vs. trip)
  Skills Acrobatics +11, Climb +16, Perception +4, Stealth +7; 
  Racial Modifiers +8 Acrobatics, +16 Climb, +4 Perception, +4 
  Stealth
  ECOLOGY
  Environment cold mountains, cold hills, cold forests
  Organization solitary, pair, or colony (3–8)
  Treasure incidental
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Poison (Ex) Bite—injury; save Fort DC 14; frequency 1/round 
  for 4 rounds; effect 1d2 Strength damage; cure 1 save. The 
  save DC is Constitution-based and includes a +2 racial bonus.
  Frosted (Su) A frosted spider deals1d6 Cold damage to any 
  creature attacking it with natural weapons or unarmed attacks.
  Tundra Acclimation (Ex) A frosted spider suffers no penalties 
  on Perception checks or to movement due to snow or ice.
  A frosted hunting spider is pale grey with mottled white markings; 
  a typical adult has a body 3 to 4 feet in length with chitin-covered 
  legs that give it an overall span of up to 12 feet. It is perfectly adapted 
  to hunting small prey in the snow covered mountains and forests of 
  the region. Climbing through trees, it stalks its land-based prey, then 
  attacks by pouncing down upon it. Its poisonous bite is more than 
  enough to bring down most creatures its own size or smaller. Frosted 
  hunting spiders sometimes hunt even bigger prey when hunting as a 
  colony. 
  GREMLIN, GRIMOLOCHIN
  This appears to be a large housecat, but when unobserved, it walks on 
  its hind legs, smokes the master’s pipe, and empties the ashes into the soup.
  GrimoloCHiN 
                                       Cr 3
  XP 800
  LE Tiny fey
  Init +3; Senses darkvision 120 ft., low-light vision; Perception 
  +11
  DEFENSE
  AC 18, touch 15, flat-footed 15 (+3 Dex, +3 natural, +2 size)
  hp 19 (3d6+9)
  Fort +1, Ref +6, Will +4
  DR 5/cold iron; SR 13
  OFFENSE
  Speed 30 ft., climb 20 ft.
  Melee 2 claws +3 (1d4), bite +3 (1d3)
  Space 2 1/2 ft.; Reach 0 ft.
  Special Attacks swallow whole (no damage, AC 11, 1 hp), steal 
  breath
  Spell-Like Abilities (CL 10th; concentration +14)
   At will–speak with animals
   2/day–charm animal (DC 15), charm monster (DC 18), charm 
  person (DC 15), invisibility (DC 16), knock, modify memory 
  (DC 18), sleep (DC 15), suggestion (DC 17)
  
  70
  
  71
  STATISTICS
  Str 11, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 14, Wis 12, Cha 18
  Base Atk +1; CMB +2; CMD 12
  Feats Acrobatic Steps, Animal Affinity, Nimble MovesB
  Skills Acrobatics +9, Bluff +14, Climb +17, Diplomacy + 10, 
  Handle Animal +10, Intimidate +7, Perception +11, Ride +8, 
  Stealth +17; Racial Modifiers +4 Handle Animal, +4 Perception, 
  Grimolochin use the better of their Str or Dex modifier when 
  Climbing
  Languages Aklo, Common, Sylvan
  SQ hag’s puke
  ECOLOGY
  Environment towns, farms, roadside 
  inns, ships
  Organization solitary, pair, or 
  mob (3–6)
  Treasure standard
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Hag’s Puke (Su) A grimolochin 
  has an extraordinarily capacious 
  gullet, able to hold as much as the 
  smallest size Bag of Holding without 
  changing its outward dimensions or 
  weight. The grimolochin 
  usually uses this ability 
  to drain cows and beer 
  kegs of rival farms, 
  disgorging the contents 
  later, but can also steal 
  other wealth, such as coins, so 
  long as it is fine enough to swallow 
  whole. Miraculously, even chicks and live 
  trout can survive such transportation.
  Steal Breath (Su) If a grimolochin sits 
  on a victim’s chest, it can suck their 
  breath out as a full-round action. The victim 
  immediately begins to drown unless they make a successful 
  Constitution check (DC 10). Every round the grimolochin is 
  able to suck out their victims breath, the victim must make 
  another Constitution check, with the DC increasing by +1 each 
  round beyond the first. If a grimolochin successfully sucks a 
  victims breath for four consecutive rounds, the victim falls 
  unconscious, drops to -1 hp, and is dying.
  Grimolochin are wicked and crafty fey. They pose as ordinary 
  housecats for the region–a Varki forest cat in the Lands of the Linnorm 
  Kings, a Hoarwood blue in Irrisen, or even a lucky tortoiseshell in 
  Tian Xia–a grimolochin first appears as a thin and mangy stray. It 
  insinuates itself into the everyday life of farms, households, inns, 
  shops, and ships, charming the master or mistress of the place. The 
  grimolochin slowly becomes sleek and fat as it convinces the owner 
  that it is the place’s “luck.” In a perverse way, this is actually true.
  A grimolochin runs its personal fiefdom with a ruthless efficiency 
  the envy of petty tyrants. Lazy servants, ne’er-do-well sons, and 
  other useless layabouts–as well as willful servants, faithful pets, and 
  family members who somehow resist the grimolochin’s charms–are 
  convinced to seek their fortunes elsewhere or meet with unfortunate 
  “accidents” ranging from being tripped down the stairs to kicked in 
  the head by a horse. The grimolochin then slips invisibly into their 
  rooms, sits on their chest, and steals their breath.
  Grimolochins occasionally serve as familiars to hags. As such, they 
  have a particular hatred of other familiars, seeing them as rivals. A 
  grimolochin does its best to see that any such beast has a quick trip to 
  the bottom of the nearest well.
  Once a grimolochin has its personal demesne ordered to its liking, 
  it sets about eliminating the competition: a rival farm, household, 
  inn, or other business. 
  With farmsteads, the grimolochin sucks 
  the milk 
  from the neighbor’s cows then 
  vomits it up into its mistress’s 
  churn. With inns, the same 
  can be done with wine or beer. 
  With other businesses, the 
  grimolochin may have to get 
  creative, but has been known 
  to make off with everything 
  from piglets to stacks of 
  rare books. “Accidents” are 
  then arranged for the rival, 
  usually simple things like 
  leaving the barn door open 
  or setting a fire, but more 
  than sufficient to cover any 
  theft.
  At 
  the 
  same 
  time, 
  the 
  grimolochin 
  uses 
  its 
  suggestion ability to convince 
  visitors to leave as much of their 
  wealth as possible, making 
  lavish gifts to the mistress of 
  its house, purchasing elaborate 
  banquets at the inn where it 
  sleeps by the fire, and so on.
  Once 
  the 
  competition 
  and customers have been 
  driven to bankruptcy, the 
  grimolochin begins to enjoy 
  the fruits of its labors. Braiding the manes of any horses in the 
  barn and riding them until they are knackered is a common favorite. 
  Persuading its “master” to lavish it with presents, everything from 
  jeweled collars to magical boots, is another popular standby. Drinking 
  the wine and cream and not spitting it back up is a third. Inviting in 
  the rats and mice for a banquet in its honor is a fourth. But nothing is 
  more favored than inviting in other wandering grimolochins to share 
  in the bounty it has built.
  Eventually, the original business or household is reduced to ruin, 
  the servants dead or gone, the visitors and customers as well. All that 
  is left is a madman or madwoman scrabbling to care for the greedy 
  grimolochins. When nothing is left, they sit on his chest and suck his 
  breath, then feast on his remains and move on.
  GREMLIN, PSAMMEAD
  This strange furry creature has long arms and legs with hands and 
  feet like a monkey’s, a tubby body shaped like a spider’s, ears like a bat, 
  whiskers like a rat, but the strangest thing are its beautiful eyes, which rise 
  up on stalks like a snail’s. It regards you with curiosity, as if waiting for 
  you to speak.
  PSammeaD 
                                       Cr 3
  XP 800
  CE Tiny fey
  Init +4; Senses darkvision 120 ft., low-light vision; Perception 
  +12
  
  72
  DEFENSE
  AC 19, touch 16, flat-footed 15 
  (+4 Dex, +3 natural, +2 size)
  hp 19 (3d6+9)
  Fort +1, Ref +5, Will +7
  Defensive Abilities painful 
  wishes; DR 5/cold iron; SR 13
  Weaknesses hydrophobia
  OFFENSE
  Speed 30 ft., climb 20 
  ft., burrow 20 ft. (sand 
  or gravel only)
  Melee bite +3 (1d4 plus 
  grab), 2 claws +3 (1d4)
  Space 2 1/2 ft.; Reach 0 
  ft.
  Spell-Like Abilities (CL 13th; 
  concentration +14)
   At will—prestidigitation
   1/day–legend lore
  STATISTICS
  Str 11, Dex 14, Con 10, Int 18, Wis 14, 
  Cha 12
  Base Atk +1; CMB +1 (+5 grapple); CMD 
  15
  Feats DeceitfulB, Iron Will, Improved Iron 
  Will
  Skills Acrobatics +8, Bluff +9, Climb +14, 
  Disguise +9, Knowledge (arcana) +11, 
  Knowledge (history) +11, Knowledge (nobility) 
  +11,  Knowledge (religion) +11, Perception +12, Sense Motive 
  +8, Stealth +15; Racial Modifiers +4 Knowledge (all), +4 
  Perception; Psammead use the better of their Str or Dex 
  modifier when climbing
  Languages Abyssal, Aklo, Common, Draconic, Sylvan
  SQ sand bath, wishgranter
  ECOLOGY
  Environment deserts, wastelands, sand pits, and seashores
  Organization solitary, pair, or mob (3–6)
  Treasure standard
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Ape Monkey (Ex) A psammead may retract its eyestalks and 
  assume the appearance of a tiny ape or monkey. It takes a DC 
  15 Knowledge Nature check to recognize this is no ordinary 
  variety, but a DC 25 check to realize it is in fact a disguised 
  psammead. This ability does not function when it grants a 
  wish, for when it dies, a psammead stretches out its eyes, 
  holds its breath and swells alarmingly, revealing its true form.
  Hydrophobia (Ex) Psammeads have an extraordinary weakness 
  to ordinary water, either fresh or salt, for to them it acts as a 
  contact poison. If they get wet, they must make a Fortitude 
  save (DC 13) or take 1d3 Con damage every round until dried. 
  Consequently they fear it greatly. Snow and ice are harmless 
  but disliked.
  Sand Bath (Ex) If a psammead bathes in pure dry sand for ten 
  minutes, it gains the effects of a greater restoration and a heal 
  spell. It may use this ability once per day. 
  Wishgranter (Su) A psammead can, if it wishes, grant any wish 
  made in its presence. The primary effect of the wish, however, 
  lasts no more than a day. At some point set by the psammead–
  typically sunset, midnight, or dawn–the thing wished for turns 
  to stone, crumbles to dry sand, or simply vanishes. 
  All secondary effects remain, for good or ill–
  generally ill. A psammead rarely grants more 
  than one wish per person per day and usually will 
  grant only one wish to a group, as that causes 
  more strife and discord.
  Painful Wishes (Su) When a psammead grants 
  a wish, it finds the process actively painful. This 
  pain has a side benefit of stripping away any 
  mental compulsions on the psammead.
  Indigenous to deserts and 
  seashores from Osirion to 
  the Lands of the Linnorm 
  Kings, 
  a 
  psammead 
  ( p r o n o u n c e d 
  sammyad) 
  is 
  an 
  ancient 
  mischievous 
  gremlin who disguises 
  its true nature with an 
  air of curmudgeonly 
  scholarliness. It proudly 
  presents itself as “a sand 
  fairy” from aeons past and 
  will be offended at any mention of 
  other gremlins, as if being reminded 
  of disreputable relations. In truth, this 
  is because the psammead considers its 
  cousins churlish amateurs. It then launches 
  into a discussion of the wonders of ages past, 
  particularly dangerous creatures such as dinosaurs, hoping 
  someone will say something like “I wish I could see a dinosaur!”
  Those too wise or lucky to fall into such obvious traps gain the 
  psammead’s grudging respect. A psammead is particularly drawn to 
  children, as their wishes have the most potential for mischief.
  While it is possible to intimidate or charm a psammead into granting 
  a wish, the pain of granting a wish breaks any mental compulsion. 
  The psammead then twists the wish into some lethal form and goes 
  off to find someone less boring and more respectful.
  The only truly “safe” way to influence a psammead is via rescue. 
  While wicked, a psammead is a true fey and hates being beholden. It 
  will grant its rescuers one good wish with no twisting, but still only 
  lasting a day.
  KAULDER
  Luminous blue tattoos cover this glowering bone-white elf. Clad only 
  in bits of studded leather and the barest of loincloths, he ignores the cold 
  and wind swirling snow about him.  With a snarl, he takes up his strange 
  obsidian sword and charges.
  KaulDer 
                                       Cr 1
  XP 400
  Barbarian 1
  LN Medium fey (cold)
  Init +3; Senses low-light vision; Perception +8
  DEFENSE
  AC 14, touch 11, flat-footed 11 (+3 armor, +3 Dex, –2 rage)
  hp 15 (1d12++3)
  Fort +5, Ref +3, Will +4
  DR 1/cold iron; Immune cold
  Weaknesses vulnerable to cold iron, fire 
  
  73
  OFFENSE
  Speed 40 ft. (30 ft in heavy armor or with heavy load)
  Melee mwk kaulder shardblade +7 (1d8+6/18–20)
  Ranged longbow +4 (1d8/x3)
  Special Attacks rage (5 rounds/day), rage powers (scent)
  Base Statistics When not raging, the barbarian’s statistics 
  are AC 16, touch 13, flat-footed 13; hp 13; mwk kaulder 
  shardblade +5 (1d8+3/18–20); Str 14, Con 13; CMB 3, CMD 
  16; Climb +5, Swim +5
  STATISTICS
  Str 18, Dex 17, Con 17, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 6
  Base Atk +1; CMB +5; CMD 16
  Feats Weapon Focus (kaulder shardblade)
  Skills Acrobatics +6, Climb +7, Perception +8, Stealth –4, 
  Survival +6, Swim +7 
  Languages Common, Sylvan
  SQ fast movement, fey-blooded, rimerunner, luminous tattoos, 
  weapon familiarity
  ECOLOGY
  Environment any arctic land
  Organization solitary, pair, pack (3–
  8), or troop (20 – 200)
  Treasure NPC gear (studded leather 
  armor, masterwork shardblade, 
  longbow with 20 arrows, 25 gp)
  Kaulder are the “cold fey” armies that 
  marched down from the Crown of the 
  World to conquer the section of the Lands 
  of the Linnorm Kings that would one 
  day be called Irrisen. Baba Yaga brought 
  these arctic elves to Golarion as shock 
  troops alongside packs of arctic goblins. 
  An oath sworn to her under duress after 
  the disappearance of all their arcane 
  clansfolk, young and old, in the course 
  of one moonless night holds them in 
  servitude. Kaulder bristle at having to 
  fight alongside honorless arctic goblins, 
  but do so out of the hope that their loyalty 
  will one day bring their loved ones safely 
  home.
  Kalder stand nearly a foot taller than 
  Golarion elves. They have white skin and 
  hair, and pale blue eyes that miss very 
  little. The standard practice amongst their 
  tribes is to tattoo parts of their bodies in 
  angular patterns with a luminous blue 
  ink that sheds light around them. These 
  tattoos are arranged in patterns that 
  tell kaulder each other’s name, lineage, 
  and defining moments. Due to their 
  immunity to cold and to display these 
  tattoos, kaulder go about nude or barely 
  clothed unless readying themselves for 
  battle.  Modesty is unheard of in kaulder 
  clans.
  Kaulder society is a martial one, with 
  villages set up like military posts, and all 
  kaulder, including the children, receiving 
  ranks and titles. Exile is the highest 
  Table: Kaulder Weapons
  Exotic Weapons  
   
  Cost 
  Dmg(S)  
  Dmg (M) 
  Critical  
  Weight Type 
  Special 
  One-handed Weapons
  Shardblade, Kaulder 
   
  25gp 
  1d6 
   
  1d8 
   
  18-20/x   
  23 lbs. P, S 
  Fragile
  Two-handed Weapons
  Shardblade, Kaulder Double 
  125gp 
  1d6/1d6  
  1d8/1d8  
  18-20/x  
  26 lbs. P, S 
  fragile, double
  
  74
  
  75
  dishonor a kaulder can receive. Outcasts are treated with a depilatory 
  cream that prevents their hair from ever growing back, and their 
  forehead is marked with the Outcast’s Brand, a rune that can never be 
  expunged. They are forced to drink a vile concoction that causes their 
  tattoos to dim and then disappear, so that they can always be noticed 
  and then ignored by other Kaulder.
  Kaulder Characters
  Kaulder are defined by their class levels – they do not possess racial 
  HD.  They have the following racial traits.
  +2 Dexterity, +2 Wisdom, -2 Charisma: Kaulder are lithe and 
  perceptive, but harsh and unyielding.
  Medium: Kaulder are Medium creatures and have no bonuses or 
  penalties due to their size.
  Normal Speed: Kaulder have a base speed of 30 feet.
  Low-Light Vision: Kaulder can see twice as far as humans in 
  conditions of dim light.
  Cold Subtype: Kaulder are immune to cold damage, but suffer 1½ 
  times fire damage.
  Feyblooded: Kaulder have DR 1/cold iron. They suffer 1 extra 
  damage from cold iron weapons. This extra damage is in addition to 
  cold iron weapons bipassing their damage reduction.
  Rimerunner: Kaulder endlessly roam the tundra of Irrisen as 
  nomads.  A kaulder receives a +4 racial bonus on Constitution 
  checks and Fortitude saves to avoid fatigue, exhaustion, and 
  the ill effects of running, forced marches, starvation, and 
  thirst.
  Keen Senses: Kaulder receive a +2 racial bonus on 
  Perception checks.
  Luminous Tattoos: Kaulder tattoos shed light 
  around them in a 5’ radius. A kaulder suffers a 
  -6 penalty to Stealth checks unless he covers 
  his body entirely.
  Weapon 
  Familiarity: 
  Kaulder 
  are 
  proficient 
  with 
  longbows 
  (including 
  composite 
  longbows), 
  and 
  shortbows 
  (including composite shortbows) and treat 
  any weapon with the word “kaulder” in its 
  name as a martial weapon.
  Languages: 
  Kaulder 
  begin 
  play 
  speaking Common and Sylvan.  Kaulder 
  with high intelligence scores can choose 
  from the following: Draconic, Dwarvish, 
  Elven, Giant, and Goblin.
  Kaulder Weapons
  A forge requires great heat, and 
  kaulder weaponsmiths must make due 
  in the frigid arctic. Kaulder swords 
  are extremely fine but unfortunately 
  brittle.
  Shardblade, 
  Kaulder: 
  The 
  kaulder shardblade is a straight 
  and exceedingly sharp blade 
  formed from a single piece of 
  knapped obsidian.
  You can use the 
  Weapon 
  Finesse 
  feat 
  to 
  apply 
  your 
  Dexterity 
  modifier instead 
  of your Strength modifier to attack rolls with a kaulder shardblade 
  sized for you, even though it isn’t a light weapon.
  Shardblade, Kaulder Double: An advanced version of the standard 
  kaulder shardblade perfect for nimble kaulder hands.
  LANDVAETTIR
  The ground beneath your feet rumbles as if the earth itself were roaring. 
  The land before you rises, coalescing into an enormous form that moves 
  toward you with menace.
  laNDVaettir                                                               Cr16
  XP 76,800
  N Gargantuan fey (earth, elemental, incorporeal)
  Init +6; Senses low-light vision; tremorsense 60 ft.; Perception 
  +40
  DEFENSE
  AC 16, touch 16, flat-footed 13 (+7 deflection, +2 Dex, +1 dodge, 
  -4 size)
  hp 
  221 
  
  76
  (26d6+130)
  Fort +15, Ref +19, Will +22
  Defensive Abilities incorporeal; Immune elemental traits
  OFFENSE
  Speed burrow 50 ft., fly 100 ft. (perfect); earth glide
  Spells Known (CL 16th; concentration +23)
  8th (3/day)—earthquake 
  7th (6/day)—animate plants, creeping doom
  6th (7/day)—find the path, liveoak, tar pool 2 (DC 23)
  5th (7/day)—baleful polymorph (DC 22), insect plague, transmute 
  rock to mud, wall of thorns
  4th (7/day)—control water, geyser 1 (DC 21), giant vermin, spike 
  stones
  3rd (8/day)—burst of nettles 3 (DC 20), dominate animal (DC 20), 
  plant growth, spike growth
  2nd (8/day)—fog cloud, gust of wind, stone call 1 (DC 19), 
  summon swarm, warp wood
  1st (8/day)—calm animals (DC 18), decompose corpse 3, entangle 
  (DC 18), faerie fire, obscuring mist
  0 (at will)—create water, detect magic, flare (DC 17), guidance 
  (DC 17), know direction, light, mending (DC 17), purify food 
  and drink (DC 17), read magic
  1 – See Advanced Player’s Guide
  2 – See Ultimate Combat
  3 – See Ultimate Magic
  STATISTICS
  Str 38, Dex 14, Con 20, Int 10, Wis 20, Cha 24
  Base Atk +13; CMB +31; CMD 51
  Feats Awesome Blow, Cleave, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Great 
  Fortitude, Greater Spell Penetration, 
   Improved Bull Rush, Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Lightning 
  Reflexes, Power Attack, 
   Skill Focus (Perception), Spell Penetration
  Skills Fly +33, Knowledge (geography) +29, Knowledge (local) 
  +29, Knowledge (nature) +29,  
  Perception +40, Sense Motive 
  +34
  Languages Common, Sylvan
  ECOLOGY
  Environment any natural surface area
  Organization solitary
  Treasure incidental
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Breath Weapon (Su) When manifested in physical form, a 
  landvaettir has a breath weapon, which it can use once every 
  1d4+1 rounds. Normally, this is a blast of earth and stones in 
  a 60 ft. cone, doing 10d6 bludgeoning damage and blinding 
  those in the area of effect for 1d4 rounds (Ref DC 28 for ½ 
  damage, negates blindness).
  A landvættir that manifests in a naturally volcanic area will have 
  an alternate breath weapon, a geyser of scalding water in a 
  60 ft line. Those in the area of effect that fail their saves take 
  10d6 fire damage and are knocked prone.
  Manifestation (Su) As an incorporeal spirit, a landvaettir 
  can only interact with the physical world through its spells. 
  However, as a full round action it can build itself a physical 
  body using the elements of the surrounding land. A landvaettir 
  will normally have a particular shape it takes when manifesting. 
  It can take the form of an animal, humanoid (giant), or 
  linnorm. No matter the form, it will be Gargantuan in size. This 
  form has all the physical movement rates and natural attacks 
  of the chosen form, but no other abilities of the creature. The 
  landvaettir retains its type and subtypes, except incorporeal. 
  The landvaettir loses its deflection bonus to armor class, but 
  gains twice that as a natural armor bonus and DR 10/-. Size 
  modifiers adjust accordingly.
  Example:
  MANIFESTED LANDVAETTIR (LINNORM FORM)
  N Gargantuan fey (earth, elemental)
  AC 23, touch 9, flat-footed 20 (+2 Dex, +1 dodge, +14 natural, -4 
  size)
  Speed 40 ft., fly 100 ft. (average), swim 60 ft.
  DR 10/—; Immune elemental traits
  Melee bite +23 (2d8+14/19-20), 2 claws +23 (1d8+14), tail +18 
  (2d6+7)
  Space 20 ft.; Reach 20 ft.
  CMD 44
  Skills (as above, except as follows) Fly +25, Swim +22
  Spells A landvaettir casts spells as a 16th level oracle, but 
  chooses spells known from the druid spell list.
  The wild, untamed lands of the north are the dwelling place of 
  many mysterious types of fey, but few are so enigmatic and powerful 
  as the landvaettir, or land spirits. These forces of the First World are 
  drawn to the beauty of the wild places, and claim areas of land as 
  their own, preserving them against those who would despoil them. 
  This area might be as small as a grove of trees or a meadow to as 
  large as a whole forest or a mountain. As mercurial as most fey, their 
  reactions to intrusion into their lands can vary wildly. A group of orcs 
  felling trees may be utterly destroyed, where a lost little girl might 
  be gently guided from the wood, or searchers may be led to her with 
  magic. Where magic fails, a spirit will manifest a physical form out 
  of the very land, using it to repel intruders to the best of its ability. 
  Some landvaettir will allow settlements to grow nearby, so long as 
  the residents are respectful of its domain. If it is unable to defeat 
  interlopers, the land spirit will depart, seeking some other portion of 
  pristine wilderness to claim for its own.
  Some Ulfen sailors speak of sjovaettir, or sea spirits, who claim 
  inlets or bays as their own, using magics to deter or sink ships, and 
  manifesting in forms suited for water rather than land.
  NO LIFE KING
  An ancient skeleton dressed in plain rags stands in a long forgotten 
  martial stance, blood slowly dripping from every joint
  No life KiNG                                                               Cr 12
  XP 19,200
  LE medium undead
  Init +15; Senses darkvision 60ft; perception +30
  DEFENSE
  AC 27, touch 21, flat-footed 16 (+6 Dex, +5 dodge, +6 natural)
  HP 161 (17d8+85); fast healing 8
  Fort +10, Ref +11, Will +15
  Defensive Abilities channel resistance +4, deathless, undead 
  traits; DR 10/bludgeoning; Immune cold, electricity
  OFFENSE
  Speed 60 ft.
  Melee 2 claws +16 (1d8+16 plus 2 bleed), 2 slams +16 (1d8+16 
  plus 2 bleed)
  Special Attacks natural killer
  STATISTICS
  Str 27 Dex 22 Con – Int 18 Wis 20 Cha 21
  
  77
  
  78
  Base Atk +12; CMB +25; CMD 46
  Feats Catch Off-Guard, Cleave, Great Cleave, 
  Improved Initiative, Improved Vital Strike, 
  Improvised Weapon Mastery, Power Attack, Throw 
  Anything, Vital Strike,
  Skills Acrobatics +23, Climb +28, 
  Intimidate +25, Perception +30, 
  Sense Motive +25, Spellcraft 
  +24, Stealth +26, Swim +25
  Languages 
  SQ combat mastery, 
  warrior’s edge, king 
  of weapons, body of 
  swords
  ECOLOGY
  Environment any
  Organisation 
  solitary
  Treasure standard
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Body of Swords 
  (Ex) After 
  countless years 
  of facing tougher 
  and tougher 
  opponents, a 
  No Life King is 
  a weapon in and 
  of itself. Its claws 
  and slam attacks deal 
  damage as a Huge creature.
  Deathless (Su) The will of a No Life King 
  is so strong that it will keep on fighting even after it should 
  have been destroyed many times over. A No Life King is not 
  destroyed when reduced to 0 hit points, returning to unlife 
  in 1d10 minutes with 1 hit point. A No Life King can only be 
  permanently destroyed if it is reduced to 0 hit points by smite 
  evil, or a positive energy effect. If reduced to 0 hit points in 
  the area of an antimagic field, or similar effect, this ability is 
  suppressed for the effects duration.  
  Combat Mastery (Ex) Through centuries of practice, a No Life 
  King has mastered countless techniques for fighting in combat. 
  No Life Kings use their full Hit Dice when calculating their CMB 
  and CMD.  They never provoke attacks of opportunity when 
  making combat maneuver checks.
  King of Weapons (Ex) No Life Kings are proficient with all 
  simple and martial weapons, along with all armor and shields 
  (including tower shields). They never suffer any armor check 
  penalties for wearing armor of any kind or wielding shields, nor 
  do they never suffer any penalties for attacking with multiple 
  weapons or natural attacks or to damage from off-hand attacks
  Natural Killer (Ex) No Life Kings practice how to kill with a 
  single blow every day of their eternal unlives. All of a No Life 
  King’s attacks deal 2 points of cumulative bleed damage. On a 
  successful critical hit, a No Life King deals +2 points of bleed 
  damage, and inflicts 1 negative level (DC 23) on the creature 
  struck.
  Warrior’s Edge (Ex) Their eternal march for ever-greater 
  conquests has improved No Life Kings’ prowess in combat. 
  They gain a +5 bonus to Perception checks, initiative, and  a 
  +5 dodge bonus to Armor Class.
  No Life Kings are the remains of ancient and powerful 
  warriors who were no longer challenged by their typical 
  opponents. These warriors became so fixated upon 
  reaching martial perfection in their lives, they 
  left civilization to train and fight monsters 
  of legend. When such warriors are 
  denied their death in battle, and die 
  due to starvation, hypothermia, 
  dehydration or disease, their souls 
  are anchored to their bodies. 
  They are reborn into beings 
  who live only to train and 
  defeat opponents in an 
  effort to become the 
  ultimate 
  warrior. 
  A No Life King 
  will spend the rest 
  of its unnatural life 
  training 
  in 
  solitude 
  in the depths of the 
  wilderness honing 
  its 
  ability 
  to 
  fight 
  beyond 
  any 
  mortal’s 
  ability. They 
  will challenge 
  l
  a
  r
  g
  e 
  monsters like 
  L i n n o r m s , 
  Dragons 
  and 
  Giants to prove 
  their might.
  No Life Kings will usually stalk bands of adventurers to gauge how 
  powerful they are; if they deem the adventurers to be a challenge, they 
  will attack them immediately, taking out divine casters first who are 
  the most likely to kill the No Life King permanently. Afterwards, 
  they attack arcane casters. Finally, they concentrate on the martial 
  classes. If the group of adventurers contains a paladin, the No Life 
  King attacks the paladin first. No Life Kings always use combat 
  maneuvers to gain an advantage in battle, be it to disarm the fighter 
  from his weapon, to steal the wands of the wizard, or bull rush the 
  rogue off a cliff. 
  OUTIKO: THE SONS OF THE WENDIGO
  The creature on the path behind was difficult to see through the driving 
  snow, but lately it has grown bolder, drawing nearer each day. From the 
  glimpses it has allowed, it is long limbed, extremely thin, and covered in 
  grey to snow-white, gore-stained fur. Its head is that of a horned beast, 
  such as a caribou, but with a maw filled with sharp yellowed fangs, 
  and its hands and feet end in sharp talons. Its lips are curled back in a 
  snarl, flecked with blood. Its eyes betray cunning intelligence, as it stares 
  defiantly into your own. You now know the disappearance of your best 
  two dogs was no accident, as it playfully chews on the remnants of their 
  harness.
  outiKo 
                                       Cr 2
  XP 600
  CE Small outsider (cold, native)
  Init +3, Senses darkvision 60 ft, low-light vision, scent; 
  Perception +8
  
  79
  DEFENSE
  AC 18, touch 14, flat-footed 15 (+3 Dex, +4 
  natural, +1 size)
  hp 22 (3d10+6)
  Fort +5, Ref +4, Will +5
  DR 5/cold iron; Immune cold, fear
  Weaknesses vulnerability to fire
  OFFENSE
  Speed 30 ft.
  Melee bite +5 (1d4+1), 2 claws +5 (1d3+1)
  Special Attacks stalking hunger
  Spell-Like Abilities (CL3rd; concentration 
  +2)
  At will—detect animals or plants, know 
  direction
  3/day—piercing shriek 1
  1/day—sleet storm
  1 See Ultimate Magic
  STATISTICS
  Str 13, Dex 16, Con 15, Int 10, Wis 
  14, Cha 9
  Base Atk +3; CMB +3; CMD 16
  Feats Ability Focus (stalking 
  hunger), Blind-Fight
  Skills Handle Animal +3, 
  Intimidate +5, Knowledge 
  (geography) +1 Knowledge 
  (nature) +6, Knowledge 
  (planes) +4, Perception 
  +8, Sense Motive +6, 
  Spellcraft +2, Stealth 
  +7, Survival +8
  Languages Aklo, 
  Common
  ECOLOGY
  Environment any cold
  Organization solitary
  Treasure incidental
  SPECIAL ABILITIES
  Stalking Hunger (Su) As a 
  standard action, an outiko can denote one target 
  within line of sight as its quarry. The targeted creature 
  becomes the repository into which the outiko seeks to relieve 
  its near endless hunger. An outiko’s first successful attack to 
  damage its quarry forces the quarry to make a Fort save (DC 
  14) or grow ravenously hungry, suffering the combined effects 
  of both feast of ashes (see Chapter 5 of the Advanced Player’s 
  Guide)and unshakable chill (see Chapter 5 of Ultimate Magic). 
  With the reduction of its hunger, an outiko gains the effects of 
  bless and false life, as well as being continuously aware of its 
  quarry as per the deathwatch spell, regardless of distance, but 
  not across planar boundaries.
  Only one quarry can be affected at any time, and effects of this 
  ability last for 24 hours, or until the quarry dies. The save DC is 
  Constitution-based and includes a +2 racial bonus.
  Tireless (Ex) The outiko’s body is inured to pain. The damage 
  caused by hustling and forced marching is halved, as is the 
  duration of any fatigue effect.
  While travellers in the far north have heard tales of the dreaded 
  Wendigo, fewer are aware of its lesser relative, the Outiko. Outiko are 
  created from spirits of travellers who starved to death 
  in the waste. Travelling alone, these unfortunates 
  found themselves stranded, cold, and dying, their 
  last moments spent calling out to the powers of 
  the wild for aid. Unfortunately, dark and unseen 
  forces answer that call without providing the 
  succor craved. In this new form of the outiko, 
  they continue to hunger, their only respite being 
  to pass that pain onto others. The outiko stalk 
  the wild places, in search of travellers to devour. 
  They enjoy whittling down prey before they 
  strike, trailing victims for days, while 
  plaguing their journeys with 
  mishaps.
  Evil tribal humanoids 
  worship 
  the 
  wendigo 
  as gods, and recognise 
  a kinship with these 
  lesser cousins, seeing 
  them as messengers 
  of 
  the 
  greater 
  spirits. 
  The 
  outiko 
  encourage this belief, 
  as it results in them 
  being brought live 
  sacrifices, or ritual 
  c a n n i b a l i s m , 
  which 
  leaves 
  scraps for them 
  to 
  scavenge. 
  The outiko view 
  this only as an 
  ample supply of 
  victims.
  In 
  rare 
  circumstances, 
  a 
  shaman 
  may 
  convince an outiko 
  that 
  a 
  permanent 
  alliance 
  would 
  be 
  to its benefit, and they 
  form a symbiotic bond. They 
  are reluctant to do this, as they find 
  it difficult to imagine foregoing a possible meal, but once done, the 
  bonding process, supplemented by the increased kills the pair can 
  collect, suppresses their immediate need to feed. This alliance is 
  fragile, however, and in times of stress, the creature’s baser urges may 
  rise to the fore.
  An outiko may be taken as an Improved Familiar, by a caster of 
  level 7+. 
  PERFEKTENNER
  This monstrous boar snaps enormous elongated jaws filled with razor-
  sharp teeth, with large, twisted tusks, instantly killing yet another cow in 
  the pasture.
  PerfeKteNNer 
                                      Cr 10
  XP 9,600
  N Huge magical beast
  Init +4; Senses darkvision 60ft, low-light vision, scent; 
  Perception +16
  
  80
  Aura stench (DC 23, 3 rounds)
  DEFENSE
  AC 25, touch 8, flat-footed 25 (+17 natural, -2 size)
  hp 139 (9d10+90)
  Fort +17, Ref +6, Will +4
  Defensive Abilities ferocity; DR 5/adamantine; Resist cold 5, 
  fire 5
  OFFENSE
  Speed 40 ft.
  Melee bite +17 (2d6+10 plus grab), gore +17 (2d6+10), slam +17 
  (1d8+10)
  Space 15ft; Reach 10ft
  Special Attacks swallow whole (2d6 acid, AC 18, 13 hp), 
  trample (2d6+15, DC 24)
  STATISTICS
  Str 30 Dex 10 Con 29 Int 2 Wis 13 Cha 10
  Base Atk +9; CMB +21 (+25 grapple); CMD 31 (35 vs. trip)
  Feats Endurance, Greater Fortitude, Improved Initiative, Skill 
  Focus (Perception), Toughness
  Skills Perception +16
  ECOLOGY
  Environment cold, temperate 
  forests, cold and warm 
  deserts
  Organization solitary, 
  pair or herd (3-8)
  Treasure none
  The perfektenner 
  are 
  among 
  the 
  most 
  brutal creatures ever to roam 
  Golarion. They are massive 
  creatures similar to dire boars, 
  though much larger, fiercer, and 
  tougher than even the meanest of dire 
  boars. Their jaws are elongated similar 
  to the jaws of crocodiles, but with large 
  twisted tusks. 
  Perfektenner are always hungry, angry, 
  and looking for things to fight or eat.  They 
  enjoy eating docile herd animals, such as cows, oxen 
  and 
  sheep. Surprisingly, perfektenner have an aversion to consuming the 
  flesh of intelligent humanoids, only killing them in self-defense, 
  but leaving the corpses uneaten. This makes these beasts especially 
  dangerous to farmers, for they will kill and eat an entire herd, ruining 
  their livelihood, unless the farmer tries to stop them, in which case the 
  perfektenner fights, and usually kills the farmer. 
  For the Perfektenner attacking prey almost never ends in injury, for 
  they are extremely resilient, shrugging off most injuries without much 
  thought. Even when pushed to the brink of death, the Perfektenner 
  will fight on till the moment their heart stops beating. Such a creature 
  will never retreat, either because they simply lack the intelligence or 
  common sense to do so, or perhaps because they literally can’t think 
  of the possibility of their death.
  While it is no mystery that the perfektenner are creatures of the 
  mysterious and dangerous plane known as the First World, their 
  origin is unknown.  Some believe that beasts from the material plane, 
  such as boars, were taken to the First World where they grew to a 
  monstrous size and temper, while others think they are creatures that 
  have always been native to the First World. 
  In the First World, Perfektenner can be found almost everywhere; 
  these predatory scavengers roam in small herds finding prey or carrion 
  to eat. Perfektenner often use their size to bully and consume smaller 
  creatures, but should the Perfektenner encounter larger creatures they 
  will act like a pack of wolves, harrowing the larger creature until it 
  dies from exhaustion and wounds delivered by the herd.
  Many different breeds of the Perfektenner exist in the First World, 
  from the white–furred hunters of the deep frozen tundra, to the 
  burrowers of the harsh boiling deserts and wastelands. It is widely 
  believed that something changes a perfektenner when it crosses from 
  the First World to Golarion, as only the breed presented above has 
  been found on the Material Plane. Perfektenner found 
  on Golarion are almost bald, with long, wire-
  like hair sticking out of its brown grey 
  skin. Like 
  m o s t 
  other 
  breeds, 
  they 
  have 
  yellow tusks and teeth, with a breath that 
  would sicken even sewer dwellers. Perfektenner are 
  found along nations bordering on the Crown of the World, with 
  an unexplained preference for the Land of the Linnorm Kings. Rarely, 
  they can be found in warmer nations to the south, most often having 
  been captured and held as “pets” by those with more platinum than 
  good sense. 
  Adventurers surviving an encounter with perfektenners have noted 
  these beasts rely on their sense of smell far more than any of their 
  other senses. Curiously, it has been noted that perfektenners are fond 
  of the smell of rotten eggs, but hate the smell of lavender, garlic, and 
  roses.   B
  
  81
  This magazine uses trademarks and/or copyrights owned by Paizo Publishing, LLC, which 
  are used under Paizo’s Community Use Policy. We are expressly prohibited from charging you 
  to use or access this content. This magazine is not published, endorsed, or specifically approved 
  by Paizo Publishing. For more information about Paizo’s Community Use Policy, please visit
  paizo.com/communityuse. For more information about Paizo Publishing and Paizo products,  
  please visit paizo.com.
  OPEN GAME LICENSE Version 1.0a 
  The following text is the property of Wizards of the Coast, Inc. and is Copyright 2000 Wizards 
  of the Coast, Inc (“Wizards”). All Rights Reserved. 
  1. Definitions: (a)”Contributors” means the copyright and/or trademark owners who have 
  contributed Open Game Content; (b)”Derivative Material” means copyrighted material 
  including derivative works and translations (including into other computer languages), potation, 
  modification, correction, addition, extension, upgrade, improvement, compilation, abridgment 
  or other form in which an existing work may be recast, transformed or adapted; (c) “Distribute” 
  means to reproduce, license, rent, lease, sell, broadcast, publicly display, transmit or otherwise 
  distribute; (d)”Open Game Content” means the game mechanic and includes the methods, 
  procedures, processes and routines to the extent such content does not embody the Product 
  Identity and is an enhancement over the prior art and any additional content clearly identified as 
  Open Game Content by the Contributor, and means any work covered by this License, including 
  translations and derivative works under copyright law, but specifically excludes Product Identity. 
  (e) “Product Identity” means product and product line names, logos and identifying marks 
  including trade dress; artifacts; creatures characters; stories, storylines, plots, thematic elements, 
  dialogue, incidents, language, artwork, symbols, designs, depictions, likenesses, formats, poses, 
  concepts, themes and graphic, photographic and other visual or audio representations; names 
  and descriptions of characters, spells, enchantments, personalities, teams, personas, likenesses and 
  special abilities; places, locations, environments, creatures, equipment, magical or supernatural 
  abilities or effects, logos, symbols, or graphic designs; and any other trademark or registered 
  trademark clearly identified as Product identity by the owner of the Product Identity, and 
  which specifically excludes the Open Game Content; (f) “Trademark” means the logos, names, 
  mark, sign, motto, designs that are used by a Contributor to identify itself or its products or the 
  associated products contributed to the Open Game License by the Contributor (g) “Use”, “Used” 
  or “Using” means to use, Distribute, copy, edit, format, modify, translate and otherwise create 
  Derivative Material of Open Game Content. (h) “You” or “Your” means the licensee in terms of 
  this agreement. 
  2. The License: This License applies to any Open Game Content that contains a notice indicating 
  that the Open Game Content may only be Used under and in terms of this License. You must affix 
  such a notice to any Open Game Content that you Use. No terms may be added to or subtracted 
  from this License except as described by the License itself. No other terms or conditions may be 
  applied to any Open Game Content distributed using this License. 
  3.Offer and Acceptance: By Using the Open Game Content You indicate Your acceptance of 
  the terms of this License. 
  4. Grant and Consideration: In consideration for agreeing to use this License, the Contributors 
  grant You a perpetual, worldwide, royalty-free, non-exclusive license with the exact terms of this 
  License to Use, the Open Game Content. 
  5.Representation of Authority to Contribute: If You are contributing original material as Open 
  Game Content, You represent that Your Contributions are Your original creation and/or You have 
  sufficient rights to grant the rights conveyed by this License. 
  6.Notice of License Copyright: You must update the COPYRIGHT NOTICE portion of this 
  License to include the exact text of the COPYRIGHT NOTICE of any Open Game Content You 
  are copying, modifying or distributing, and You must add the title, the copyright date, and the 
  copyright holder’s name to the COPYRIGHT NOTICE of any original Open Game Content 
  you Distribute. 
  7. Use of Product Identity: You agree not to Use any Product Identity, including as an indication 
  as to compatibility, except as expressly licensed in another, independent Agreement with the 
  owner of each element of that Product Identity. You agree not to indicate compatibility or co-
  adaptability with any Trademark or Registered Trademark in conjunction with a work containing 
  Open Game Content except as expressly licensed in another, independent Agreement with the 
  owner of such Trademark or Registered Trademark. The use of any Product Identity in Open 
  Game Content does not constitute a challenge to the ownership of that Product Identity. The 
  owner of any Product Identity used in Open Game Content shall retain all rights, title and interest 
  in and to that Product Identity. 
  8. Identification: If you distribute Open Game Content You must clearly indicate which 
  portions of the work that you are distributing are Open Game Content. 
  9. Updating the License: Wizards or its designated Agents may publish updated versions of this 
  License. You may use any authorized version of this License to copy, modify and distribute any 
  Open Game Content originally distributed under any version of this License. 
  10 Copy of this License: You MUST include a copy of this License with every copy of the Open 
  Game Content You Distribute. 
  11. Use of Contributor Credits: You may not market or advertise the Open Game Content using 
  the name of any Contributor unless You have written permission from the Contributor to do so. 
  12 Inability to Comply: If it is impossible for You to comply with any of the terms of this 
  License with respect to some or all of the Open Game Content due to statute, judicial order, or 
  governmental regulation then You may not Use any Open Game Material so affected. 
  13 Termination: This License will terminate automatically if You fail to comply with all terms 
  herein and fail to cure such breach within 30 days of becoming aware of the breach. All sublicenses 
  shall survive the termination of this License. 
  14 Reformation: If any provision of this License is held to be unenforceable, such provision shall 
  be reformed only to the extent necessary to make it enforceable. 
  15 COPYRIGHT NOTICE Open Game License v 1.0 Copyright 2000, Wizards of the Coast, 
  Inc. 
  System Reference Document. © 2000. Wizards of the Coast, Inc; Authors: Jonathan Tweet, Monte 
  Cook, Skip Williams, based on material by E. Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson. 
  Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Core Rulebook. © 2010, Paizo Publishing, LLC; Author: Jason 
  Bulmahn, based on material by Jonathan Tweet, Monte Cook, and Skip Williams. 
  Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Bestiary. © 2009, Paizo Publishing, LLC; Author: Jason Bulmahn, 
  based on material by Jonathan Tweet, Monte Cook, and Skip Williams.
  Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Bestiary 2. © 2010, Paizo Publishing, LLC; Authors: Wolfgang 
  Baur, Jason Bulmahn, Adam Daigle, Graeme Davis, Crystal Frasier, Joshua J. Frost, Tim 
  Hitchcock, Brandon Hodge, James Jacobs, Steve Kenson, Hal MacLean, Martin Mason, Rob 
  McCreary, Erik Mona, Jason Nelson, Patrick Renie, Sean K Reynolds, F. Wesley Schneider, 
  Owen K.C. Stephens, James L. Sutter, Russ Taylor, and Greg A. Vaughan, based on material by 
  Jonathan Tweet, Monte Cook, and Skip Williams.
  Pathfinder RPG GameMastery Guide. © 2010, Paizo Publishing, LLC; Authors: Cam Banks, 
  Wolfgang Baur, Jason Bulmahn, Jim Butler, Eric Cagle, Graeme Davis, Adam Daigle, Joshua J. 
  Frost, James Jacobs, Kenneth Hite, Steven Kenson, Robin Laws, Tito Leati, Rob McCreary, Hal 
  Maclean, Colin McComb, Jason Nelson, David Noonan, Richard Pett, Rich Redman, Sean K 
  Reynolds, F. Wesley Schneider, Amber Scott, Doug Seacat, Mike Selinker, Lisa Stevens, James L. 
  Sutter, Russ Taylor, Penny Williams, Skip Williams, Teeuwynn Woodruff. 
  Advanced Player’s Guide. © 2010, Paizo Publishing, LLC; Author: Jason Bulmahn.
  Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Ultimate Magic. © 2011, Paizo Publishing, LLC; Authors: Jason 
  Bulmahn, Tim Hitchcock, Colin McComb, Rob McCreary, Jason Nelson, Stephen Radney-
  MacFarland, Sean K Reynolds, Owen K.C. Stephens, and Russ Taylor.
  Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Ultimate Combat. © 2011, Paizo Publishing, LLC; Authors: Jason 
  Bulmahn, Tim Hitchcock, Colin McComb, Rob McCreary, Jason Nelson, Stephen Radney-
  MacFarland, Sean K Reynolds, Owen K.C. Stephens, and Russ Taylor.
  Pathfinder Campaign Setting: The Inner Sea World Guide. © 2011, Paizo Publishing, LLC; 
  Authors: Keith Baker, Wolfgang Baur, Clinton J. Boomer, Jason Bulmahn, Joshua J. Frost, 
  Ed Greenwood, Stephen S. Greer, Jeff Grubb, James Jacobs, Michael Kortes, Tito Leati, Mike 
  McArtor, Rob McCreary, Erik Mona, Jason Eric Nelson, Jeff Quick, Sean K Reynolds, F. Wesley 
  Schneider, Leandra Christine Schneider, David Schwartz, Amber E. Scott, Stan!, Owen K.C. 
  Stephens, Todd Stewart, James L. Sutter, Greg A. Vaughan, Jeremy Walker, and JD Wiker.
  Pathfinder Campaign Setting: Lands of the Linnorm Kings. © 2011, Paizo Publishing, LLC; 
  Authors: Matthew Goodall, Jonathan Keith, Colin  McComb, and Rob McCreary.
  Raven Swarm from the Tome of Horrors Complete. © 2011, Necromancer Games, Inc., published 
  and distributed by Frog God Games; Author: Scott Greene.
  Wayfinder #6. © 2011, Paizo Fans United; Authors: Clinton J. Boomer, Craig Cartin, Kalyna 
  Conrad, Ryan Costello, Jr., Rich  Crotty, Christopher Delvo, Danielle Doss, Keith Doughty, 
  J. Russell Estes, Robert Feather, Dawn Fischer, Guy Fox, Robert Gresham, Karl J. Haglund, 
  Nick Herold, Eric Hindley, Jeff Lee, Rob Little, Nicholas Milasich, Kevin Andrew Murphy, A. 
  Morgaine Newis–Edwards, Dain Nielsen, Tom Phillips, Dane Pitchford, Alex Putnam, Gregg 
  Reece, John C. Rock, David Schwartz, Liz Smith, Margherita Tramontano, and Larry Wilhelm.
  
  P
  In honor of the 5th anniversary of the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game, 
  as well as 10 years of Paizo, we invite you to return to your Pathfinder 
  roots!  Yes, it is time to go back to your bookshelves, and start rereading 
  your Rise of the Runelords Adventure Path, your Curse of the Crimson 
  Throne Adventure Path, your Darkmoon Vale modules…and expand 
  upon them! Give us your sidetreks into the countryside around 
  Sandpoint, explore the flanks of Droskar’s Crag, or uncover new secrets 
  hidden in the Vaults of Korvosa.  Pathfinders, tell us your tales!
  Goal 
  The goal for the fanzine is to create a collection of fan-created articles and 
  supporting art set in Paizo’s Pathfinder Chronicles world of Golarion. In 
  conjunction with the anniversary celebration at PaizoCon 2012, Wayfinder 
  #7 will be focusing on Year One of the Pathfinder product line! Please use 
  the products list below as your main references (as well as that handy-dandy 
  PathfinderWiki)! In the case of a plethora of articles on similar subjects, 
  preference will be given to articles that follow this theme. As always, crunch, 
  fiction, and flavor articles are welcome! 
  In addition, writers can submit to one of several regular series featured in 
  Wayfinder: 
  • Advice: Have some advice you want to pass on to new GMs or players to 
  the world of Golarion? 
  • Bestiary: New creatures to terrorize your PCs with!
  • Of Chance and Skill: Games, new to or adapted for Golarion, to play at 
  your table!
  • Prestigious: This article is devoted to a new prestige class for the world 
  of Golarion. 
  • Realm Building: The Kingmaker Adventure Path introduced a lot of new 
  goodies for building armies, cities and kingdoms. This column is focused 
  on building upon those rules.
  • Side Treks: Side Treks feature short outlines for a sidetrek adventure set 
  in a particular Pathfinder adventure, from the products listed below. One 
  sidetrek outline per submission for this column. Please reference earlier 
  Wayfinders for the layout for this article. Submission size: 325 words. 
  • Tales from the Front: Fiction articles based on any of Paizo’s adventure 
  modules or paths.
  • Weal or Woe? Two NPCs (including statblocks), one helpful, one not so 
  much. Include hooks for the PCs to know (or hate) this NPC and how to 
  use them in a campaign. Include a boon (Weal) and drawback (Woe) for 
  the NPCs in your article.
  Guidelines 
  • Thou shalt not disregard canon, thou shalt build upon it. 
  • Keep in mind thy audience. Keep it PG-13. No slash fic/porn fantasies, 
  cheesecake/beefcake/fan service. 
  • Short and sweet. Unless otherwise specified, article sizes are 750 and 
  1,500 words. These are HARD targets, not a range, so come as close as 
  possible to these targets. Anything over 1,500 words will have to be pre-
  approved by the Editor-in-Chief. 
  • Submissions used to defame, harass, or threaten board members are not 
  tolerated.
  Submission Instructions 
  • Conditions for Submissions. All authors and artists must agree to have 
  their works reproduced for this and other Wayfinder products, be it for 
  translations into other languages (we will be responsible for the truthfulness 
  of the translations), special publications, or use on a Wayfinder website. All 
  of Wayfinder’s publications are NON-PROFIT, and authors and artists 
  will be given proper credit where due. 
  • Send all submissions to: wayfinder.fanzine@gmail.com with the subject 
  line containing “Wayfinder #7 Submission”. 
  • All text submissions must be submitted in DOC format (doesn’t matter 
  if you use Office or OpenOffice). Note: Files sent in RTF, TXT, DOCX, 
  or any other format than DOC will be rejected. 
  o Do not use fancy fonts or colors or styles for formatting - these 
  will get stripped out in the editing and layout process. Use the 
  standard body font for the program you’re using - bold and italics are 
  fine.  
  o For tables, please make them tab delimited. Fancy formatted tables 
  just get reduced to this format anyway.
  • Include your name and board name in your submission - example, “Liz 
  ‘Lilith’ Courts”. Your entries will go through editing passes for clarity and 
  concision. Depending on time constraints, you may or may not receive 
  feedback on the editing process and your script. 
  • DEADLINE: March 31, 2012, 11:59 Pacific. All entries will be 
  handled on a first come, first serve basis. Some articles may be rejected 
  depending on the final size of the PDF.
  Advertising
  • Fan projects operating under Paizo’s Community Use Policy are welcome 
  to advertise their websites and materials. 
  • Third party publishers wishing to advertise their Pathfinder Roleplaying 
  Game-compatible projects in Wayfinder #7 are welcome to advertise as well. 
  Space is available for 1/4, 1/2 and full page ads.
  • Email wayfinder.fanzine@gmail.com for questions about placing an ad. 
  Be sure to include “Wayfinder #7 Advertising” in your subject line. 
  • DEADLINE: April 30, 2012
  Paizo – Year One Products
  Module D1: Crown of the Kobold King
  Module D1.5: Revenge of the Kobold 
  King
  Module D2: Seven Swords of Sin
  Module D3: The Demon Within
  Module E1: Carnival of Tears
  Module J1: Entombed with the Pharaohs
  Module J2: Guardians of Dragonfall
  Module J3: Crucible of Chaos
  Module LB1: Tower of the Last Baron
  Module TC1: Into the Haunted Forest
  Module U1: Gallery of Evil
  Module U2: Hangman’s Noose
  Module W1: Conquest of Bloodsworn 
  Vale
  Module W2: River into Darkness
  Module W3: Flight of the Red Raven
  Adventure Path: Rise of the Runelords
  Rise of the Runelords Player’s Guide 
  Adventure Path: Curse of the Crimson 
  Throne
  Curse of the Crimson Throne Player’s 
  Guide 
  Classic Monsters Revisited
  Guide to Darkmoon Vale
  Guide to Korvosa
  Harrow Deck
  it’s a CeLeBration 
  of Pathfinder
  CLassiCs!
  82
  
  P
  Goal 
  The goal of this call for art submissions is to create a feature article 
  in Wayfinder #7 that displays the artistic talents of Pathfinder fans.
  Wayfinder #7 will be accepting all art submissions that deal with the 
  Pathfinder setting. Some pieces may be used to fill up space throughout 
  the magazine.  Many, however, will be included in a special gallery 
  article that will be featured in the PDF version only.  So feel free to 
  give us your best!
  But first, we have a few rules...
  Guidelines
  • Keep in mind thy audience. Keep it PG-13. No cheesecake/
  beefcake/fan service. 
  • Thou shalt not infringe upon other Intellectual Properties. No 
  illustrating Batman meets Valeros, or even a Drizzt-looking drow. 
  Keep it in Golarion. 
  • Wayfinder seeks new, original black and white or color art to 
  feature in its pages. Please refrain from submitting material that has 
  already been published elsewhere.
  Submission Instructions
  • Conditions for Submissions. All artists must agree to have their 
  works reproduced for this and other Wayfinder products, be it for 
  translations into other languages (we will be responsible for the 
  truthfulness of the translations), special publications, or use on a 
  Wayfinder website or gallery website (such as DeviantArt). All of 
  Wayfinder’s publications are NON-PROFIT, and authors and artists 
  will be given proper credit where due. 
  • Send all submissions to: wayfinder.fanzine@gmail.com with the 
  subject line containing “Wayfinder #7 Art Submission”. 
  • Art submissions can be in color or black/white. 
  • All art submissions should be .psd, .png, .jpg or .tiff files. 300 dpi. 
  8.5 x11 size max. Note: Files that are sent in any other format will be 
  rejected. 
  • Include your name and board name with your submission - 
  example, “Liz ‘Lilith’ Courts”. Your entries will be compiled and 
  selected by the editorial staff. You will be notified if your submission 
  has been selected. 
  • DEADLINE: April 15, 2012, 11:59 Pacific. All entries will be 
  handled on a first come, first serve basis.
  Any questions can be asked on the Paizo.com messageboards (we’ll 
  have a thread up), or email your questions to: wayfinder.fanzine@
  gmail.com
  a CaLL for art! 
   show Us YoUr
   Best! 
  83
  Fan Art: 
  Chris Leaper
  
  84
  paizo.com
  Paizo Publishing, LLC, the Paizo golem logo, and Pathﬁ nder are registered trademarks of Paizo Publishing, LLC, 
  and the Pathﬁ nder Roleplaying Game is a trademark of Paizo Publishing, LLC. © 2012 Paizo Publishing, LLC.
  E
  xplore your character’s origins with the Advanced Race Guide, the exciting 
  new sourcebook for the smash-hit Pathﬁ nder Roleplaying Game! Try out 
  new archetypes, feats, spells, gear, and racial traits for all seven “core” races, as 
  well as expanded options for every single player-character-appropriate race ever 
  introduced for the Pathﬁ nder RPG, or use the book’s extensive race creation 
  rules to create your own unique race! At last, goblins, rat folk, orcs, kobolds, and 
  the rest stand toe-to-toe with elves, dwarves, and humans in this option-packed 
  256-page hardcover rulebook! 
  Available Spring 2012!
  ®
  ™
  Delve Deeper!
  E
  new archetypes, feats, spells, gear, and racial traits for all seven “core” races, as 
  well as expanded options for every single player-character-appropriate race ever 
  introduced for the Pathﬁ nder RPG, or use the book’s extensive race creation 
  rules to create your own unique race! At last, goblins, rat folk, orcs, kobolds, and 
  the rest stand toe-to-toe with elves, dwarves, and humans in this option-packed 
  256-page hardcover rulebook! 
  
  Boiltongue
  by Mauricio Herrera 
  
SOURCE: textdata/thevault/Pathfinder/Wayfinder/Wayfinder #06.pdf