Hearts of Ice (day 1, Lamashan [October] 4708 AR)

Inside the tent, a freakishly small, soot-smeared barker wearing a threadbare wool suit and a top hat incited a crowd, directing attention to the various pieces of machinery around the room as he deftly rattled off his pitch:

"Step right up! Step right up, folks! See the world's most magnificent manipulations of modern machinery! Guaranteed to chop, dice, and saw away yer troubles! You'll just die when you see'em! Welcome to the convenience of the modern age!"

The dark ice fey seized this tent and used the machinists, engineers, and other folk who were supposed to operate and service the machines to put on exciting displays, demonstrating the power of the machinery by feeding it lumberjacks, millworkers, and lumber barons who stopped by to experience the wonder of the carnival. This encounter was a factory of death.

Anyone approaching too close to a machine risked grisly death. While operating, all machines created a threatened area. Whenever an individual entered that area, they were subject to the machine's attacks. Mrunk and Wrack entered these machines' threatened spaces and were attacked by swinging blades, slashing pendulums, or other similar contraptions. Individual machines were stopped by dealing damage to single machines.

The blade of doom was suspended from an old catapult frame, and was a massive circular sawblade with a diameter the length of a cow that spinned at a blinding speed. A conveyor belt crafted entirely from spiked chain hauled people toward the whirling monstrosity that rent them in half as easily as a plough tills land. Wrack got grappled by the conveyor belt. Seoni deactivated the machine before he passed through the blade, and everyone helped to free him.

The chipper was a long wooden chute that led to a gaping metal opening filled with several twirling axles, each fitted with dozens of rapidly rotating blades.

The ten splitter was responsible for the relentless chopping of a mechanized row of ten axes, all attached to a lever and pulley system. Two laborers loaded the machine by placing people upright beneath the blades. Then with a single pull of the main lever, all the axes fell, dramatically killing all ten people at once.

In the debarker people were bolted to titanic iron gears and locked into a frame, creating a giant rotating spindle. As people span, a huge mechanical arm fixed with an oversized lathe blade slammed into them, killing them into thick slices.

The planer was a board-maker of amazing power, demonstrated by one of the lumberjacks who gleefully tossed people between twin churning drums covered with iron rasps. They screamed as their remains popped out the other side.

The board press was a machine that restored and flattened warped boards using steam and pressure. Now it was used to place people onto a bed of short spikes, after which a heavy iron spike was latched down over the top. Giant turnscrews created incredible pressure while a series of twisted copper pipes spilled boiling hot water down on the device, bathing everything in a cloud of scalding steam. After the steam cleared, the screws were released and the remains popped out.

The stacker was a device that stacked and bound cords of wood into shipping pallets.Currently people were thrown down a chute on automated shuffling panels. The remains were then dropped onto panels squared off by iron bars. As soon as the pallet fills to the top, another helper pulled a lever that dropped down a device that looked like an oversized horseshoe from some scaffolding above. It fit neatly over the cord, and when it retracted, it bound all the remains together with small chains.

When the heroes disrupted the Modern Engineering tent, a quickling begun to taunt them from a safe distance. Even better the quickling paraded the witch ice shard in full view of the heroes, giving them an opportunity to gain Quinn's aid. Before they can destroy the shard, though, first they must catch its keeper, and that is no mean feat.

The quickling is 2-1/2 feet tall and extremely gaunt, with elfin features and pale, bluish skin. Long, slender ears rise to a sharp point near the top of his head and his hair flows behind him like quicksilver. He wears a shirt and leggings woven from leaves and tree bark. He called out to the heroes, "So these are the foolish mortals that are spoiling my master's plans. Silly creatures, your salvation is before you, but you can't catch me!" At this point he darted away into the crowd and disappeared. The heroes recognized the witch ice shard around his neck.

The quickling's chase led the heroes all over the carnival grounds from area to area. As he moved through the carnival Mrunk detected his exact location and Seoni targeted him with attacks as his capricious carousing showed signs of his presence. When the heroes moved through an area they drew the notice of any fey (or other threats) and were attacked as the quickling made his getaway.

The delicious scent of sugary berries and fresh baked pastry wafted by, drifting from a tent near the river. Waving high in the air above it, a blue silk banner beckoned "Biggy-Piggy Pie-Eating Contest!" in bright gold letters. Beneath the banner lay a twenty-foot long table covered with a red-checkered tablecloth. Seated at a bench before the table, twelve local contestants eagerly stared at the tremendous steaming pies placed before them. With napkins tucked into their shirts and their hands tied behind their backs, they awaited the signal to begin. Near the table, a wooden sign staked into the ground read "Entrance Fee: 2 Coppers, Winner Gets Fat Prize!"

To the left of the table, the event's sponsor emerged from behind a wheeled cart bearing the weight of a coal-burning oven. With a bellowing voice that complimented his immense rotundness, the pie chef yelled "Begin!" Within seconds, contestants' faces eagerly plunged into the fresh-baked pies as they slobbered and gnashed their way to victory.

Once the competition started, the chef happily filled new pie crusts with a strange device that looked like a giant butter churn attached to a spinning wheel with a big foot pedal. In the front of a churning chamber, a metal spigot attached to a 10-foot hose. When the pie chef stomped the pedal, steam shot out the top of the churn as gouts of pie filling erupted from the hose.

The Master of Ceremonies for the Pie-Eating Contest was a corpulent anthropomorphic hog. He happily fed contestants slop-filled pies packed with rotten entrails. Behind his tent grazed a dozen or so pigs.

Stepping on the foot-pump of the pie-filling machine released a cloud of steam that compressed a central chamber crammed with pie filling. This forced the filling through a long flexible cloth hose connected to a brass fitting that shot the filling into a pie.

The quickling dashed behind the stove and alerted the manhog that the heroes were tailing him. As the contest began, the quickling darted across the table, stomping the contestant's heads into the pies, suffocating them in a bizarre dance. This maneuver allowed the manhog time to position himself behind the oven with the pie-filing machine.The quickling left towards the Titan's Wheel but left behind an easily tracked set of pie-stain footprints trailing down toward the river. The manhog cast a spell before he ran behind the oven for cover, remaining within reach of his pie-filling machine.

Carnival of Tears (day 1, Lamashan [October] 4708 AR)

When the heroes returned from their meeting, they found the carnival had been drastically altered in their absence. Yellow globes of light that floated and twirled through the air above the carnival now brilliantly lit the paths and tents of the show. Every so often, a new yellow globe rose from one of the tents and joined the growing multitude above the fairgrounds.

Most of the people had gathered along the lakeshore to witness a breathtaking display of fireworks. When the heroes arrived, the moon was high in the sky; its light shimmered off the ice like pale ghosts dancing in the darkness. On the surface of the lake, fairgoers reveled and hooted, stomping their foot to rollicking fiddle music, played by a band of grigs that maniacally bowed their legs while hoping about the bandstand. A gong sounded from the stage and scores of colorful rockets suddenly sprung into the sky, where they exploded into glistening clouds of multicolored sparks that drifted gently to the ground. As the sparks slowly drifted on the wind, an unseen mist seemed to lift from the scene, and in a moment, everything changed.

The grigs continued to play, but instead of a lively dance tune, they were playing an eerie, haunting melody that dripped with sadness and cruelty. They stood off to the side with expressions of anxious expectation. Meanwhile, instead of colored sparks, a rain of leeches drifted from the sky and settled over the crowd with a series of wet noises.

Unless the heroes can stop the slaughter, most of the population of Falcon's Hollow is likely to die within the next couple of hours. All around the show, the fey have transformed the fun carnival events into death traps, while the hapless townsfolk wandered around with smiles on their faces, only realizing the true situation after it was too late. While a few of the townsfolk realized what was going on, the rest of the carnival blissfully ignored their cries of fear and terror.

Not every area had been changed. The menagerie of freaks, the vacant tents and the ice carving were empty and dark; the carnies that were running them were missing.

Black lines smeared through Sathelbry's name on the signboard in front of his sleigh stop. It now read, "Free Sleigh Rides for Children". Seated in the driver's seat, a queer little gnome with an icy beard waited patiently as dozens of children piled into the sled.

As the heroes approached, the gnome driver cracked his whip, lurching the overpacked sleigh toward the nearby wood at a breakneck speed. The heroes saw a mangled corpse bound beneath the sleigh, its head dragging against the snow leaving behind a bloody trail. Searching the feed trough revealed limbs diced into the horses' oats. The sleigh driver was a frosty chiseler who the heroes could not stop.

The Titan's Wheel had undergone a drastic change. Stripped of its once colorful decorations, it jutted like a rotten claw from a quagmire of mud and blood. Fairgoers navigated toward it on rotten planks arranged as stepping stones to span the fetid morass. Ghoulish trophies dangled from the great metal wheel, bound by their own intestines to the rusting metal so they dragged through the mud and up into the air as the wheel rotated. A gang of dark ice fey had transformed the Titan's Wheel into a sadistic torture device.

The barker tried to act as if nothing was wrong while the other three dark ice fey tried to get heroes to come around back and trick them into entering the machine. When injured, the fey disappeared.

A towering mass of sinew with a skeletal visage stalked the perimeter of the machine tents, randomly plucking carnival attendees and violently thrusting them beneath the tent's greasy canvas folds, where their hellish screams were mostly drowned out by the deafening grinding of the machinery within. Nothing walked from the tent's exit. Instead, a dark fey raked piles of shredded flesh and ground bone into a shallow trench of bloody pulp that trickled down the hill and into the river.

The gruesome tentkeeper, Jhoruk, did his best to maintain his Eye of Rapture cover. When the heroes gave him trouble, he attempted to bounce them first, trying to appear as menacing as possible, though when pushed he didn't hesitate to dig his claws into Mrunk. Jhoruk used his claws against Mrunk, saving his axe for Aranthor. When injured, Jhoruk had no problem calling for aid from within the tent. Despite that, the heroes emerged victorious. The other fey fled when Wrack cast shatter.

Syntira's Summons (day 1, Lamashan [October] 4708 AR)

About half an hour before the fireworks display was set to begin, a woman's scream rang out across the grounds. The wail of pure terror lasted several seconds before it ended just as abruptly, leaving behind an ominous silence that was, in a way, even more frightening.

After a few seconds of silence, however, the carnival slowly returned to normal. No one seemed willing to investigate the source of the scream.

When the heroes investigated, Gradzaal was easy to find. His first kill rested just around the corner from the entrance, and his bloody hoofprints were easy to follow from there as they headed deeper into the maze. When the heroes tracked him down, they found him standing over the lifeless corpse of his most recent kill, smiling as he licked the blood from his axe. Gradzaal laid waste with his greataxe. He fought until rendered unconscious. The heroes defeated Gradzaal before he killed everyone inside the maze.

The master of the carnival was nowhere to be found during most of the festivities, but shortly before the fireworks display, Namdrin Quinn treated the patrons of the carnival to an impressive sword dance.

Namdrin is a sinewy half-elf of corded muscle and bone, with a long haunted face. His sunken eyes did not fix on an who attempted to speak with him, instead staring off.

He strode down the main thoroughfare clad in a heavy black hooded cloak, moleskin gloves, gray-black clothing, and high hard boots. Namdrin suddenly flourished his cloak, cast a spell, and drew two shining silver blades out of nowhere. For the next five minutes he blended graceful twirls and acrobatics with a dazzling display of unsurpassed swordmanship. His dance concluded with a slow twirl that ended with Namdrin sheathing his blades smoothly and striding away, heedless to the din of applause that erupted around him.

Just before the fireworks display was set to begin, a red fox delivered a note to the heroes:

"Hail Champions,
A bleak and bitter frost has fallen across the forest, and I fear it has reached even into the hearts of my people. Aided by agents of an ancient evil, they are about to visit such destruction upon the people of your community as has only been seen in nightmares. If you would aid me in combating these villains, please come quickly to the grove beyond the west entrance of the carnival. Do not be startled by my appearance.

- Syntira"

When the heroes reached the grove, on the western edge, a pinprick of yellow light flared suddenly against the darkness. From the smallest flash of color, it silently increased in radiance until it seemed as if the sun itself had come down from the heavens into the grove. Suddenly, directly in front of the light, an alluring female form appeared. The intensity of the light made it almost impossible to determine any of her features, but it was clear she must be stunningly beautiful, and completely naked. The only part of her that was clearly visible was her eyes, which were liquid brown and seemed to draw in the light. Her voice chimed with the crystal beauty of a mountain spring on a summer afternoon:

"Please do not fear. I will not harm you or any other mortal. I am Syntira, nymph queen of Darkmoon Vale, and I am of the First World. My court of fey lived in these dark woods before the first of your kind set foot upon its verdant green. For an age or more we have watched you from tree and shadow, through spider's eyes, underneath the wings of sparrows, and behind the grub worm and acorn. Long have we watched as your people bled the land with axe and flame. For a spell my anger grew such that I would see you all pay for such scourging of the forest. When I wallowed in the deepest pit of hate is when a cold wind blew down on my grove. A rider came with the wind; atop a dead stag and sheathed in frozen blades he came, and with a voice like steel on ice he promised me revenge. I agreed then, but now I know this course is ill. I only hope I have not awakened to the truth of this evil too late. When the rider came, my people changed. The cold froze their flesh; their hearts turned to ice. They forgot the green, forgot the woods. They forgot everything but hate. Now they come with the wind, led by their cold rider. They come to the carnival to butcher you and the rest of the mortals, and the only one who could stand against them is chained by bands of love stronger than iron.

"You must act quickly. My kin already begin their slaughter. Your people bleed - I feel their pain as I once did the torment of the trees. Pain is evil. Tree, beast, or man, it makes no matter, and no measure of cruelty can repair what has come before. Your kin suffer for nothing but spite. Save them, and save yourselves. But take this with you, lest you offer yourselves to the frozen fey as lambs to a butcher."

The intoxicating woman waved her hand across the snow, and a small collection of vials appeared. She continued: "Drink this and you will not fall prey to the rider's magic. He carries an iridescent purple flower of living ice called the Eye of Rapture, enchanted to cloak horror and agony in a guise of mirth and merriment. So long as this crystal remains unspoiled, your people will continue their revels as the fey cut them down. You must stop the slaughter. Only by frustrating the cold rider can you force him to appear so you can end your people's suffering once and for all."

Syntira supplied the heroes with vials of a liquid that counters the Eye of Rapture's effects. She prepared one vial for each hero but had no more to offer. After she delivered her speech, she lingered for a few moments to answer questions.

When asked who is this one she spoke of who could stand against the cold rider, she answered: "The master of the carnival, the half-elf for whom steel and shadow dance as one - he is their slave now. The rider has his wife imprisoned in a shard of deep black ice. Namdrin Quinn swore an unbreakable oath of the old world not to interfere with the cold rider's revenge, and in return his wife will be free of the ice shard prison that binds her fast. But Nmadrin is betrayed. The crystal feeds on his love's soul, and the only freedom she will know is horrid death, her soul consumed by the evil of the shard. Namdrin cannot break his oath, but you could free him of his bond. If you can destroy the shard and free his wife, the compact will be sundered, and the half-elf will rise against his tormentors and aid you."

When asked how could the heroes kill the cold rider, she answered: "The rider is a fell foe. His antlers twist, stab, and pierce the flesh of mortals with a life of their own. His glaive freezes blood in the vein. As long as ice is near, his wounds knit and seal, and he cannot be easily slain. Fire and shattering force, or the vibrations of sound, can destroy him best. His armor is thick, but can be sundered by magic if you know the proper spell."

Blind Peep Show (day 1, Lamashan [October] 4708 AR)

After the heroes defeated the frosty chiselers, they rescued the townsfolk captured by the fey. When rescued, the prisoners remembered nothing about their captivity, other than that Mr. Sathelbry seemed to be in collusion with the chiselers.

Beneath a tall signboard reading "Mr. Sathelbry's Wild Sleigh Rides" stood four massive chargers coupled to three wooden passenger sleds linked together with chains. Hunched in the first sled was the driver, an aged, one-armed man dressed in a long threadbare wool coat, his snarling face wrapped with a dull red scarf. As the driver snapped his whip and the sled lurched forward, ragtag children darted from shadowed hollows beneath nearby wagons and tried to snag free rides before the distracted driver sees them.

The driver is a cantankerous one-armed geezer who the townsfolk only know as Mr. Sathelbry. Each year, he dresses his team of chargers, hitches them to his sleighs, and for a small fee (5 cp) he drives fairgoers over field and dale around the fairgrounds at an almost breakneck pace.

Sathelbry never smiles, and by his sour expression one might think that he despises his job. Rumors abound that the old man hoards his carnival money and saves his coppers to last him the remainder of the year. Still, those who carefully watch the man see his eyes twinkle sadistically when he denies passage to the town's orphaned children.

The heroes noticed a group of ragtag children loitering near Mr' Sathelbry's Wild Sleigh Ride begging for a free ride. The crusty old sleigh master snarled at them, even kicking one into the snow with a cold-hearted laugh and a "no copper, no ride!"

The heroes confronted Mr. Sathelbry about his collusion with the frosty chiselers, and when he denied kidnapping villagers, Aranthor cut of the reigns that connected the chargers to the sleigh. Eventually the sheriff showed up and arrested Mr. Sathelbry, after Mrunk surmised that he is probably the victim of enchantment magic. During the scene, Mrunk noticed a miniature sprite riding in one of the children's patchwork pockets. Wrack paid the child a hefty sum for his coat and asked the sprite what she is doing at the fair. The sprite admitted that she is on a mission to find humanoid champions for her Queen, but refused to reveal more. The heroes agreed to follow the sprite and prove to her that they are fit to be her Queen's champions.

The sprite led them to a few plain-colored tents standing before a row of cargo wagons. A wooden sign staked into the ground before them read "CARNIES ONLY! NO ADMITTANCE!"

Mutters Condlan paid the tent's owners to scram so that he might have his way with a young woman. When the heroes wandered into this area they automatically spotted Mutters as he dragged a protesting girl into the shadows of the vacant tents.

Mutters has no puissance at combat, so when confronted he tried to convince the heroes to mind their own business at first, even offering them 30 gp to look the other way. When the party refused, Condlan railed at anyone who tried to interfere, attempting to drive them off with threats and bravado. When Aranthor seriously threatened him, he immediately turned tail and ran.

Next the sprite led them in the shadows behind a tent where a young red-haired woman sat crying and holding the side of her face in pain. Removing her hand, she revealed a bruise already forming in her milky white cheek. A short half-orc with blood-red eyes loomed over her, a snarl on his ugly face.

Aside from his blood-red eyes, Kabran's most striking feature is his missing nose. He wears a bronze nosepiece over the crater in his face that whistles disturbingly when he sucks air through it and dribbles blood and mucus incessantly (which Kabran wipes away with a crimson handkerchief). He wears a simple red overcoat adorned with gold and ivory buttons over his mithral chainmail. The burly half-orc carried an ornate masterwork greatsword on his back. The heroes interfered on Ralla's behalf.

Kabran attempted to avoid making a scene, offering the heroes a free sample of Ralla's wares if they left him alone. When this failed he intimidated them with a snarl and a "don't get between an orc and his earners, you tuskless pig". Kabran quickly drew his fancy dagger and attacked Mrunk. When significantly injured, Kabran backed down and let Ralla go, but he promised "this is far from over".