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The Legend of the Snow Mistress By Eric Jwo 3 Aelmont, 35 Saer Cataclius Greeting Uncle, I trust this missive finds you well. I hope you do not find Academy life too tedious after all of your adventures. My purpose for writing concerns an intriguing legend I inadvertently stumbled upon while visiting the Que-Shu After investigating the wild talent pyromancer reported among the plainsmen, which, as I recounted in my earlier report, turned out to be a false rumor, a terrible snowstorm appeared on the horizon. A great dread, the likes of which I have never felt, filled my heart as blinding white sheets of ice thundered down upon the plains. I asked Moonsong if such snowstorms were common in the plains and she replied that this was no common snowstorm. Although I was prepared to leave the village and return to the Academy, Moonsong insisted that I seek shelter with her and the villagers in their lodges. I sensed that the storm was magical in nature, but when I reported this to Moonsong, she merely nodded as if I had confirmed her worst suspicions. "Blinding snow and hail does not normally touch the plains," Moonsong began, "unless it is at the command of the Snow Mistress . . ."
The Snow Mistress can easily be adapted for any campaign world. She is a legend, a terror that remains in the backdrop of events in order to add more flavor to a campaign. The Snow Mistress is not an ordinary monster for an adventuring party to slay, and defeating her should take all of a hero's skill and intelligence.
In game terms, the Snow Mistress can only be hurt by magical weapons with a +1 or higher bonus {weapons of distinction or higher}. She is also immune to all 1st and 2nd level spells {spells that cost 10 points or less}, as well as to all cold-based attacks and spells. However, fire-based attacks and spells are doubly effective against her. The Snow Mistress also has the power of suggestion {the equivalent of charm and despair}.
The actual statistics of the Snow Mistress are left up to the Narrator (DM). However, most believe that the Snow Mistress is immortal. It is also recommended that the Snow Mistress be able to cast cone of cold, wall of ice, and ice storm at least once per day {cryomancy}. The Legend The Snow Mistress is a demon, a devil, a fiend that lives in the torrential blizzard of ice and snow that whips around it. Once a year, during the coldest night of the year, the sky turns black and angry, while a blizzard whips about the plains with unbridled fury. It is amid the darkness, the ice and hail and snow, that the Snow Mistress comes. She appears as a hauntingly beautiful woman with long, blue hair, eyes as dark as the night and skin as white as snow. She resembles a statue of pure ice, as timeless and emotionless as a glacier. Without a word or sound she appears to those caught out in the storm. It is death and worse than death to look into her depthless eyes, as those who do are paralyzed, unable to run or cry for aid. Those dark eyes draw a person's spirit into their endless depths, casting it deeper and deeper into a private hell of the demon's choosing, until the soul is consumed to feed her insatiable hunger. In the end, all that is heard above the hail and ice are horrible screams, and then, all is silent. Cowering in one's lodge is the only way to survive the deadly night. The Snow Mistress cannot enter any living being's home without being invited. None dare to brave the night while the storm rages. It is said that blades tempered with steel cannot harm her and that minor magicks crumble beneath her will. The shrill shriek of the storm is said to be her agonizing cry of fury, for she is hungry and no food is available. Yet the Snow Mistress is not thwarted so easily. During the night she whispers sweet words like daggers into your heart and soul, twisting blades of hate and love in your mind, until you are compelled to open the door and invite death and worse than death upon you and your family. If you hear the voice of a long lost love or the cries of a departed friend from beyond the door, shut your ears and numb your mind. And if you hear a subtle knocking at the door, a steady drumming that drills into your mind during the long dark night, for the love of the departed gods, do not answer it! After hearing this tale, my first impression was to dismiss it as barbarian superstition. However, since Moonsong would not allow me to leave the lodge, I decided to turn to the lore books that were displayed in the lodge. Evidently, the lodge served as a library, where the collected history of the Que-Shu was stored. Rather than spend my time sharpening my weapons and concocting so-called "potions of protection," as the other plainsmen seemed wont to do, I turned my attention to researching the legend of the Snow Mistress. Amid the howling of the snowstorm outside, I easily found many stories of those slain by the Snow Mistress, but it took me nearly an hour to find one of the two tales of the Snow Mistress' origin. The Fallen Goddess Ages ago, when the world was young, there existed a minor demi-goddess named Alethra, who served the dark goddess Takhisis. Alethra was a vain being with delusions of grandeur. She served the Dark Queen, but she secretly longed to usurp her power. When the first five dragons were given birth and corrupted by Takhisis, Alethra appeared in a vision to the bakali and bid them worship the wyrms. Alethra believed that if she could increase tensions between the gods over the dragons, she could wrest power away from her mistress during the ensuing godwar. However, instead of fighting among themselves over the bakali and the dragons, the gods punished the bakali by thrusting Krynn into a Time of Ice and Darkness. Millions of bakali perished during the ensuing Ice Age and their souls were denied the peace of their ancestors. Alethra had not foreseen this tragedy, and when Takhisis discovered who had subverted the lizardmen, she punished Alethra. The Dark Queen striped Alethra of her powers and encased her spirit in a cloud of ice and snow, forever cursed with an insatiable hunger for sustenance. Throughout the year, Alethra was kept in an otherworldly prison, forced to writhe in agony as her hunger tore her apart. However, on the coldest night of the year, Alethra was loosed from her prison to feed on those caught in her storm. Although Moonsong said that the previous tale was the most widely accepted tale of the Snow Mistress, her chief shaman, Stardawn, scoffed at the notion and turned me to a more recent story. According to Stardawn, the Snow Mistress does not have divine roots, but rather roots in the people that she torments. The Cursed Maiden Long ago, when the first plainsmen graced the earth, there lived a young and beautiful maiden called Snowsong. She was said to have been born during a fierce snowstorm, the likes of which the plains had never seen. Because of the strange circumstances of her birth, she was born with hair the shade of ice and skin as pure and white as virgin snow. Despite these remarkable features, her brilliant, violet eyes, full of life and vibrancy, amazed her fellow tribesmen the most. As Snowsong grew, so did her beauty, and many suitors from across the plains vied for her hand as she blossomed into womanhood. One of these suitors was an old man, a dark sorcerer, who saw in Snowsong's beauty and life as a way to recapture his own lost youth. However, Snowsong's love was for a young hunter named Ravenwing, and before they could be properly wed, Snowsong and Ravenwing slept as man and wife. Through sorcery, the dark sorcerer discovered Snowsong's dreadful secret and threatened to expose her to her chieftain unless she consented to marry him. Ashamed of her crime, Snowsong turned to the gods of evil for help instead of to the gods of good that normally protected her tribe. The gods of evil responded to the girl's plea and gave her an enchanted dagger that would slay the dark sorcerer. Braving the terrors around his twisted lair, Snowsong finally made it into the dark sorcerer's inner sanctum and stabbed him with the magical blade. As he lay dying from the mortal blow, the dark sorcerer cursed her and her village. The sorcerer's curse devastated the village's livestock and harvest, causing all but the hardiest plainsmen to die from famine. When the gods of good discovered Snowsong's crimes, they condemned her to a prison of ice and snow, where she is tormented by the spirits of those she wronged for all of eternity. Once every year, on the coldest night of the year, Snowsong is loosed back onto the plains that gave her birth, where she seeks to find plainsmen who can relieve her of her pain, only to consume their souls instead. Glancing through more recent passages has given me a more modern picture of the Snow Mistress mythos. It seems that after the Chaos War, the Snow Mistress has grown in power and instances of her appearance have increased. The Fifth Age When the Father of All and Nothing strode the world during the Summer of Chaos, he brought with him his hordes of destruction. Among his minions were fire dragons, daemon warriors, and fire dragons. However, it is said that the Chaos god did not send his armies into plains. Instead, he blew his harsh, searing breath across the plains, until the sky rained fiery ice. Out of this infernal tempest rose the Snow Mistress. She cut a bloody swath across the plains, ignoring the restrictions that she had been bound to for untold centuries. She entered homes without being invited and appeared during the blazing summer, cutting down all around her. After Chaos was defeated, the Snow Mistress vanished as if she had never been. Only the bodies left in her wake spoke of her visit to the plains. The plainsmen hoped that they had seen the last of her, but on the coldest night of the year, she returned. Every year since she has returned, as she always has and always will. However, while she has always been confined to the plains on the coldest night of the year, it seems that the Summer of Chaos has changed her forever. In the Fifth Age, the Snow Mistress has appeared as far north as Crossing and as far south as New Ports. The Snow Mistress seems to even have the ability to appear on nights other than the coldest night of the year. Reports confirm the Snow Mistress' presence in late autumn, winter, early spring and even in the middle of summer. Since the departure of the gods, it seems that the Snow Mistress is steadily breaking free from the restrictions that have bound her for countless centuries. As the night wore on, I grew tired of my research and began to drift off. Moonsong had warned me to stay sharp, but my own weariness overpowered my resolve. As I began to slip deeper and deeper into slumber, I heard a soft, faint voice call to me. Now, I know that this will be hard to believe, but I swore I heard my father call out to me from outside. I swear that I could hear him calling out to me as he burned in my ancestral home. I know that I cannot fully remember my past, but for an instant, I was back in that burning castle, and my father was calling out to me. I admit that I was not thinking clearly and when I rushed over to the lodge door, Moonsong was barely able to restrain me. Luckily, in my crazed state, I only fought back with my fists and not my spells! Still, I am ashamed to say that I do not recall what occurred after that. I awoke with the rising sun and when we went outside, all traces of the blizzard had melted away like a bad dream. When I asked Moonsong what had happened, she only smiled grimly. I should have asked her about the large, purple bruise on the side of my head, but I thought better of it. I accompanied Moonsong as she made her rounds around the village, inspecting the damage, and we soon came upon a gruesome sight. A young hunter, called Hawkwing according to Moonsong, kneeled in he center of the village, his body covered with ice. His flesh had turned an ugly shade of purple and his skin resembled a worn leather pouch. His face was twisted in a gruesome scream that none could hear; and his eyes, they were black and empty, as if his soul had been ripped from the husk of his body. I will leave for the Academy after I help the villagers bury the fallen plainsman. My skills as a geomancer will be needed. Still, I have to admit I am a bit reluctant to return to the open trail, for fear of what might lurk around the bend. Who knows what terrors may threaten he peoples of Krynn during the so-called Age of Mortals; who knows when the plains will again know the icy touch of the Snow Mistress? Respectfully yours, Erik Majere |  | ||
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