Previously on murder dragon and fire child misadventures

"I-I-I’m g-g-g-gonna i-i-incinerate this-s p-painter w-when I g-get my h-hands on hi-him."
Ulmiyda’s teeth chatter uncontrollably as she walks through the dense snow, her retainer and her new dragon companion by her side.

“No you’re not, he is our best ticket out of here.” Cervayhn responds sternly, clearly dealing with the cold much better than his young master.

The trio found themselves in a twisted version of the young girl’s home region after being baited into a magic painting, the result of taking a supposedly simple job in Darkveil. All they needed to do was rescue some painter who supposedly got lost within their own painting, but the painting’s new owner had other plans. Now they were trapped, fighting against the hostile inhabitants of the magic realm in a desperate search for an exit from this frozen hellscape. They weren’t alone however, as a brief stop at a temple had introduced them to a rather helpful nun. While the woman’s view of this land was diametrically opposed to the party’s, she was oddly willing to aid them, pointing them in the direction of a supposed village where the painter may be taking shelter.

With no other leads to go on, the party set forth, being led by Ulmiyda’s bizarrely good sense of direction. While the trek may be arduous, it doesn’t take long before the catch the hint of light through the heavy snowfall.

“FINALLY.” Ulmiyda shouts, seemingly reenergized by the simple sight of flame. She dashes forward with a reckless excitement, not taking into account the opinions of her two older companions nor the strange icy swirls dancing among the lights.

Cervayhn sighs as his young master runs out of his grasp, he looks over to Perrath with an unamused expression. “You see it too, don’t you? Guess we better intervene before she gets hurt.”

---

SPOILER: Click to show

Quest Name: Little Frost Bite
Participants: Two or more
Location: Frostgale
Post Requirements: 6 post per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Renown, +1 Ice Catalyst, +1 Wind Catalyst
Description: A group of cold weathered Mephit's have been terrorizing local villages up north, causing blizzards and snow storms to batter the area more than normal. Ice and wind Mephits are flooding the region and causing all kinds of mayhem. These are tricky, devious creatures that love to cause trouble and mess with people. While they are not super dangerous alone, they can be a handful when in large packs, and we are in desperate need of a solution before they populate beyond our control.

“It isn’t the painter,” Perrath growls. “It’s that damn witch that thought to trap us in here. But I suppose we can blame him for creating this hellscape too. What a fool.”

Landing in the snow after being blasted through a painting is not an ideal way to enter a place that looks very similar to Frost Gale. He wonders how Einheria manages in the cold, but then again, she is a creature of ice and likely doesn’t feel it. Right now Perrath finds himself wishing he possessed the essence of snow to avoid the biting pain in his feet as they trudge forward.

At least the woman in the temple was helpful, yet Perrath can’t help but find her suspicious. For all he knows, she could be pointing them directly to their doom. He expects that at any moment, some creature could burst forth from the earth and consume any of the three of them. If he had his choice, it would be the retainer first.

The younger elf’s voice breaks through the wind, and suddenly she’s off. Perrath looks at Cervayhn, unimpressed that the retainer would think the dragon would be responsible for the safety of his ward. Still, he doesn’t mind the young firestarter, so he might just begrudgingly go along with his wishes. The two of them hurry through the snow after Ulmiyda until they reach a small, decrepit village with few residents and fewer fires.

Before they manage to get their bearings, a man’s panicked shouts echo through the hallow roads, screaming for help. It seems their painter is being terrorized by tiny ice pixies called mephits.

About two hours earlier.

"Waaaaaaahhhhhh-” *poof*

Ulmiyda's unexpected journey through the painting had placed the young girl in a precarious position, in the middle of the air to be precise. Luckily for her, the girl’s rapid descent was cushioned by a soft layer of snow, something quite foreign for Darkveil.

Ulmiyda lies still as she attempts to process the bizarre events that have unfolded in the past few moments.
“Am I dead? Is this one of the hells? Wait, why am I cold?”
Ulmiyda quickly rises to her feet as she finally realizes what the cold flakes latched onto her are. The girl looks around in a panic, finding a large field of white, broken only by a few trees and singular light in the distance.
“Oh no. This is worse than any hell, this is Frost Gale!”
Ulmiyda continues to search frantically, hoping for any sign of civilization when she suddenly realizes something is off. Despite it clearly being nighttime, her surroundings were oddly bright, almost glowing in the moonlight. The young girl gasps in amazement as she looks upwards, spotting a massive moon, far larger than she had ever seen back home. As she stares up at the moonlight, her situation slowly dawns on her. “Wait… this is what was in the painting! I got yoinked inside of it!”

Ulmiyda's eyes look back to the light in the distance, the same light that drew her to the painting in the first place. She withdraws her heated blade^[1], pointing its tip towards the light. Whether it be her continued curiosity or sheer lack of options, the girl ventures forth, using her blade to melt a path through knee-deep snow. Her journey doesn't go uninterrupted for long, however, as she spots a tall dark figure along her path. The young dark elf begins to run as fast as she can muster, throwing any caution to the wind; whoever the dark figure was, now was certainly not the time to be picky, the faster she gets out of this frozen landscape the better.

The girl’s excitement only grows when she finally realizes who the figure is. She sheathes her blade midrun, freeing her hands as she accelerates into the figure with full force. Her arms wrap around Perrath’s torso as Ulmiyda hugs him as well as she can. “Mister Perrath! You dove into the painting to save me, didn’t you? I knew you wouldn’t let that lady get away with her crime! She must pay for sentencing us to such a wretchedly cold yet pristinely beautiful place!”

Ulmiyda’s celebration is momentary, however, as the ruckus attracts the attention of the locals. A howl rings out across the night sky as a pack of wolves seemingly appears out of thin air, quickly surrounding the pair of lost adventurers. Ulmiyda places her hand on the hilt of her sheathed blade as she looks around with a nervous expression.

“Oh uhh… I don’t suppose they are friendly?”

---

[1] Agni - Scimitar - Scalded 

About two hours earlier…
Landing in the snow after an unexpected ice blast to the chest is one of the least enjoyable things Perrath could imagine after coming from a very warm Darkveil. After pulling himself to his feet and dusting himself off as best he can, he looks around and finds that the vast landscape around him matches the painting, and the only thing on the horizon is the strange decrepit town depicted in the art. He grimaces. Where is the runt and her retainer? No matter, he needs to get moving.

After a short time, to his surprise, the young dark elf comes rushing through the snow and…hugs...him?

This is strange.

Looking down at Ulmiyda (and also checking his armor for the spot the frost blast hit him to check that it’s mostly faded), Perrath clears his throat. “Ah, of course,” he lies, working to gather his shaken confidence back to put on his typical haughty persona. “It would be a shame to let a little firestarter like yourself burn out so quickly!” Somewhat awkwardly, he pats her head. “Now, let’s get to that town there. Perhaps we will find the painter, and he can help us escape.”

The celebration and plan is cut short by an untimely appearance of snowy wolves. Perrath looks around at them with a grimace. Not wolves. He hates wolves. They’re too social and pretentious. They’re beneath him. “Doubtful,” he huffs. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re the ice witch’s pets here to clean up her mess.” His wings flare out, though the thin webbing is not much a fan of the sheer cold of this Frost Gale-adjacent place. “We could just fly away,” he offers.

Perrath’s suggestion didn't sit well with Ulmiyda. How can someone so big and intimidating be so scared of a few wolves? The conundrum confuses the girl until a memory of the last dragon she encountered surfaces in her mind.
Oh yeah! Dragons are scared of werewolves! That's why that orange one wouldn't fry that werewolf at the festival and why Mister Perrath is too afraid to breathe fire!

Ulmiyda puts on a brave face as she unsheathes her blade, causing the wolves to wince at the sudden light. “Fear not! I have a plan!” She looks back to Perrath with a beaming smile. “Hold still for a moment.”

Before Perrath has any time to retort, Ulmiyda circles the dragon and jumps on his back, taking extra care to not burn him with her blade as she scrambles onto his shoulders. With her legs positioned on either side of the dragon's head, Ulmiyda snaps her fingers, summoning a ring of flame around the pair^[1], an act that stifles the wolves’ aggression. “Ha ha ha, now they can't get close! You have nothing to fear!”

Ulmiyda points the tip of her blade at the nearest wolf, who seems to be lacking the trepidation of the others. A spark builds from the blade tip, quickly growing in size before launching into the beast^[2]. The wolf recoils from the flame, hitting the snow with a thud, before fading away into the night.

Ulmiyda begins firing wildly at the pack, giving little care to the accuracy of her shots.“You will not bar our path out of this hellscape! For I am the great dragonrider Ulmiyda Flameborne and none shall-”
The girl's overly dramatic speech is cut short as a pair of massive eyes stare at them from the darkness. The heavy crunch of snow reaches the adventurers’ ears as a giant wolf, big enough to bite them in half, joins the injured pack.

Ulmiyda's head freezes in fear as stares down the beast, her free hand moving down to Perrath's shoulder. “LEAVE, LEAVE, LEAVE, LEAVE!” The girl yells as she violently shakes the dragon. As the pair begin their hasty retreat, the girl points to the bright light in the distance. “ONWARDS TO SOMEWHERE THAT IS NOT HERE!”

[1] Flame Hoop
[2] Fire Bolt via Meteor Charm