Chapter Eight: Under the Dark

Session was held at Backman Bastion 7th of June 2014 AD

It was August 26th 1372DR. After the horrid events at the Ice Fjord that took Nespil Crowgale's life, the crestfallen expedition proceeded into the only viable direction, underground. Even though a menacing sign had been discovered at the entrance, proclaiming that there was no Thule nor wonder that they were seeking, most of the men were committed to continue the cause.

Descending into the realm known as the Underdark, the dwarves Bolwyn Flameblade and Faerhar Bogomoloff took the lead as they both proficient tunnelers and experts of world under the surface. Six days of aimless wandering through most accessible tunnels and caverns finally led the expedition into vast limestone cave full of exciting rock formations known as stalagmites. Judging from the dripping salt water from the ceiling, the dwarves figured that they were beneath that very sea that they saw just before they descended into the tunnels.


Moving on from the cave, it's apparent tranquility was suddenly shattered, as Hórnbori diverged to take a leak. One should never inadvertently piss on slumbering cave trolls dome, as the creature is prone to deliver massive amounts mutilating damage upon that poor souls genital area. Hórnboris most horrendous demise inspired our heroes to charge against the troll, a beast twice the size of an ordinary one. It's hide proved to be keen for mortal wounds and the creature was soon slain. Hórnbori was left into a rubble grave, as the expedition continued deeper into the darkness.

Delving deeper mile after mile, the men soon understood that bringing the dogs with them proved to be a mistake, as the hostile climate was driving the canines mad. Days went past, but  while walking on the rubble bottom of a underground crevice yet another menace engulfed our expedition. Strange aberrations suprised our team by swooping down from the heights- These craetures were part manta ray, part a mundane cloak, and as they plunged upon the terrified men, they wrapped their strange bodies around their victims, biting and strangulating them.
While rest of the party was struggling against flock of these leathery devils, Posco decided to seek better tactical position from darkness. He managed to stumble upon long forgotten piece of weaponry, a enchanted light crossbow known as Victor. There were much joy as the creatures were slain and Posco was somewhat happy about his new treasure.

Journey in the dark continued. A day passed, according to the dwarves who still claimed that they had been tracking expeditions voyage to a detail. But the tunnels came to an end, as a strange white-skinned child was spotted on the edge of torchlight. As our mercenaries advanced carefully to investigate this ghastly sighting, they discovered a full tribe of underground dwelling humanoids. Barely dressed in loincloths, these "men" were almost white skinned, big eared and apparently almost blind. Illumination from the torches seemed to enthrall them. But the most astonishing thing about the discovery was that four human men had been living with these creatures. They were part of late Mordgóin Gemgrinders expedition that had been launched towards the north couple of years ago.
As the cave people did not speak, only gurgled and clickered, the frontman of the four, Varden Diomede introduced the two parties.
He told that their expedition, led by Mordgóin had been crossing a glacial field when crust of ice had collapsed, plunging their party into a icy crevasse. Many died, and the rest wandered aimlessly to the Underdark. They eventually ended up with these cave dwelling degenerates who seemed to be oblivious about almost everything. Mordgóin, Agvidr and Kolsen Lightshank died during their time there from mal-nourishment and sickness. Now all that were left were Varden himself, Adrik the Dwarfsoul, Morten Håk and one handed Tooths Felder. 

Average Underdark degenerate

Varden showed their camp among the cave people. A single withered tent was all that was left from their dream. The cave people (known as Blindies  by Varden) lived in little stone huts, and they stored their food and tools in small holes in limestone cave wall. Among the stone huts there were also small pillars that were made of humanoid skulls, the ancestors of blindies. Every skull in those pillars had a curious hole in the top of dome, it was somewhat similar to short tribal hairpiece that the leader of blindies sported. His name was Red-Eye, he was one exceptionally bright fellow as he even managed to say hello to our expedition.
Behind the huts at the end of the cave was one peculiar spot of a wall, that almost drove poor Mordgóin mad before his death. It was completely smooth stonewall with miniscule lines engraved into it's surface with no apparent reason. Enoch Crowgale was immediately absorbed into it's mystery.

Days passed as the expedition "gathered" their strength in the mirk. The Blindies fed our heroes some Underdark delicacies such as cave fish, isopods and fungi, the reason for Mordgóin's expeditions fate was obvious. Varden Diomede endowed Mordgóins old hammer to Bolwyn. This mighty creation of dwarven forges of Citadel Adbar was a heck of a more use in the hands of Adbarian warpriest than soon-to-be-dead human fool. Gemgrinder was it's name and it proved to be worth of it's name.

Crowgale's transcript 

After a week from their initial arrival, Crowgale declared that he had no clue about the walls meaning. He had studied Mordgóins's notes and made some of his own with little results. But as they were to throw in the towel, Enoch spotted a little cave people child with a strange helmet in it's head. Iron helmet, clearly illuskan made, sporting a distinct tale of a whale as a elaborate nose guard. Crowgale quickly ripped of one of the pages from his notebooks and showed a picture he had copied from some historical volume. The Blindie girl was wearing Valgaerd Whitefarers helmet, Gullhvadr.  This discovery gave them much excitement as they now knew that they were still on the trail despite all the confusion in the dark.

With this new surge of hope, Enoch immersed himself in the notes in hopes to make a groundbreaking discovery. Rest in the other hand idled among the cave people, playing Six-Eyed-Spider and maintaining their gear. But all this came to a halt as the wall began to ripple without warning. Crowgale had nothing to do with this strange phenomenon, as the diminutive lines on the smooth surface began to glow with dazzling luminescence . The wall was morphing into a portal.

Glowing brighter than a pyre, everyone just looked at the light when three roughly humanoid figures emerged from it. And as the light decreased into a soft purple glow, horror broke loose as the figures were identified as mind flayers! Illithids, those creatures of immeasurable cruelty and evil, began bombarding the bystanders with their psionic mind blasts, knocking the weak-willed into a stunned stupor. Also confusing some of the more susceptible for persuasion telepathically to aid them as their defenders, these mind flayers proved to be a genuine obstacle to our heroes. Thanks to Tymoras guidance that day, none was killed and the tentacled aberrations were fend off.

Illustration depicting Illithian practices. 

While recovering their sanity from the previous encounter, someone noticed that the now opened wall led into a new tunnel. Quick preparations were made for the expedition to continue it's journey, while rest of the ill-fated Mordgóin-expedition pledged to join the still existing one. None really cared about the Blindies as their fated seemed somewhat sealed. It was now clear that their ancestors were all lobotomized by the Illithids, as these poor creatures were clearly nothing more than a herd to be harvested.
Delving into the dark once more, a good start came soon to an end as they arrived into a large round room that seemed to be the bottom of some gargantuan hollow cylinder. Narrow stone stairs circled around its' smooth walls, circling slowly upwards. As no other route was accessible, the expedition decided to begun a slow ascend, that would surely pain those with fear of heights.

Bolwyn discovered that the vertical cylider was of dwarwish making, possibly duergarian, and his suspicion proved to be correct as they discovered dwarven runes spelling the legendary name of "Migdhal Wyrdrazh", outpost of the whitening, mythical dwarven northern outpost lost in the sands of time. Whether this cylinder was part of the outpost or not, the expedition was once again inspired to continue onward.

During their ascend, Onarr stumbled and plunged into the dark, but thanks to Poscos quick reflexes and magic, the poor nordman managed to rescue himself back on the stairs. Eventually the cylinder ended, after hours of heavy climbing. At the top there was just an empty round room with one iron trap door in it's ceiling. As men seized their breaths, our heroes investigated the trapdoor. It seemed to bee frozen stuck, and as they managed to prize it open, they saw a thick layer of ice and snow that they'd have to burrow trough. As there could be several feet of the stuff, turns were taken with a pickaxe and a shovel. As the ice was finally broken trough several hours later, celebrations were canceled immediately as Onarr who had landed the final strike against the ice, was instantly snatched up from the trapdoor. Orgot rushed after him, climbing up and peeking out of the hole, witnessing how a huge frost giant hurled the poor man high into the sky.

Orgot pushed himself up and braced to battle against the giant on top of an apparent guard tower on some norther mountain peak. Quick wall of fire sheltered him against the gigantic northern warrior, but as Thelon jumped to aid him, the giant had regained it's strength, an it struck Thelon stone cold with a single mighty swing of it's battleaxe. Covered in his friends blood, Orgot and the rest of the party fought furiously against superior foe, striking it dead with sheer power of will.

As Thelons wounds were being treated, Orgot realized that he had accidentally ignited a signal pyre that had been constructed on this watchtower terrace. And as they peeked over the tall ice walls that acted as railing, they saw a icy vale surrounded by three separate mountain ranges. The vale itself was swarming with the largest assemble of creatures the north had ever seen. Judging from the banners, it was the army of Thrum Vetrvader, the supreme ruler of Kongrike ov Hvítrfjell, the King of the North. 

And now the flaming signal pyre had alerted the others on atop of two other mountains ranges,

 and the army was marching for war.

Chapter Seven: No River To Take Me Home

 Session was held at Casa De Grandiosa in 15th of March

There is no man who would head north with a light cause. Although the thousand stars shimmer on the night sky, and Aurora Borealis might illuminate the way, the northern darkness won't unbind it's shackles. And still as you go, the ever-gnawing cold reaches your core, despite all the efforts to keep warm.
To this very journey you will lose yourself. There is no fellow to walk that path alongside you, no comrade to comfort you. 
Alone must you stride, like descending into an open grave. Into vast emptiness.

Reghed Glacier

Cold northern winds slashed it's cold whip against the Expeditions men. Morale was plumetting as day's labor consisted of walking trough seemingly endless cold wastes the Reghed Glacier with no sign of destination. As they had journeyed on the glacial ice for three days already, following Enoch Crowgale's vague destination, old-man Crowgale was finally ready to announce their next waypoint. He had studied the rose-red gem pendant that they had taken from it's guardian back in Dol Aurmeth, and according to Crowgale it did indeed show them their next destination. Either or not it was of makings of Valgaerd the Whitefarer, they did not know, but it was the only reasonable clue they had at the moment.

Valgaerds Pendant

Enoch explained that the seven holes of the pendant matched to well-known constellation known as the Crown of the North or Cold Crown. This same seven-star celestial body was known by the northerners as the Eye of Evil and Hole That Leads To Darkness. Phrases of old northern language, sort of a proto-illuskan was ascribed to the center of the pendant. Crowgale had been translating it the last few days and he was ready to announce his findings

See the Cold Crown rise,

fourteen days in a row.

When you stand with

 the Goddess of Magic, 

Alagairtha will

lead your way.

Crowgale thus presumed that Expedition was to continue it's march northwards, taking bearings from the constellation that rose to the northern sky every night. And at the end of fourteenth day they would reach a location that would guide them further. As an waypoint this was somewhat indefinite, but the men continued nevertheless.

Crust of Ice
Days at the glacier came with a steep learning curve. Many near go situations showed them to watch their step as hidden crevasses lurked under the thin crusts of ice and snow. Sunlight made the snow into a bright blinding mirror, and sudden snowstorms came with much too brief notice.

On fifteenth of August,  seventh day of of their fourteen-day quest, a climb onto a snowy steppe drove the expedition face-to-face with a herd of woolly mammoths! As the herd made a defensive circle, young bull mammoth decided to make a show-off and charged towards the men and dog-sleds. Due Orgots abnormally quick wits, that charge was fended off as the half-orc cleric evoked a wall of fire on the front of the mammoth. No animals were harmed nor blood spilled that day.

But luck was not on their side the next day. Days journey was suddenly interrupted as someone spotted something big flying towards them. Quickly a fearful cry was heard aloud "DRAGON"! Our heroes organized everyone to spread out in fear for a devastating breath attack that everyone was familiar with. The white scaled creature landed to their front and started yapping with it's crude dragonic language. It was slightly bigger than the largest war horses, thus making it just an young adult dragon, but a dire threat nevertheless. Thelon who had studied draconian languages back in Evermeet translated it's will to the party.

Nidhogrym was it's name and it wanted "all the furry ones" meaning the dogs that pulled the sleds. Of course this was a no go, and our heroes demanded the drake to back off and fly away. Arrogant young wyrm took that as an insult and launched an attack. It's frozen breath freezed many capes as most of the expedition ran away due it's frightful presence. But our Thelon, Orgot, Bolwyn and Posco stayed, fighting off the dragon. So did Nespil Crowgale and his mercenary friend Artyom. Rest of the men who were not panicked did their best to handle the dogs. Even old man Konrad Haldurssen shot few bolts from his dog sled.

Young white dragon did not posses the power to usurp it's prize, and it retreated cursing and hauling insults. But it's last breath hit Thelon with cold-feet, and the elven warrior was blown down. He suffered partial nerve damage of permanent status, but everyone was happy to still have him.

Unexpected departure..
On the ninth night of their journey, a new struck of bad luck presented itself. The camp was alerted in hearth of the night as Abbie Bousson cried for help. Watchmen at the shift along with Posco rushed to Abbies tent, where her tent-mates Gorim and Enoch were leaning over fourth member of that tent, Konrad Haldurssen. Old man Lord Haldurssen was coughing badly, an it was evident that he was on his death-throes. For days Abbie had tended his health but his time had come.

Few moments later Konrad Haldurssen took his last breath. His last words were "I'm afraid". Enoch Crowgale spoke to the men on that bleak night, announcing Haldurssens death due poor health and old age. Crowgale said that it was Haldurssens dream to reach Ultima Thule, as he was sure that he would regain his health there and see many good years. This was not the case this time, but Enoch did his best to rise the men's morale. Still, many suspicious words were whispered.

On the eleventh day the expedition discovered old remains of a camp that had apparently been build
 by similar expedition. Nothing of value was discovered, but remains of a man were found from old wreck of a tent. Causes of death for this headless corpse were unknown, so no conclusions could been made.

They stayed it the same vale with the ruins for the night, making funeral pyres from the old camp for Konrad Haldurssen and the unidentified body. Memorial words were said.

.. And an unexpected arrival.
Day later the expedition was preparing the camp for the night as a blizzard was arriving from the north with haste. The preparations were put on hold two unidentified men were closing the camp from south. They announced to be friendly men seeking shelter. It quickly became apparent that the man speaking was none-the-less than Windmill Hágo, notorious swashbuckler from Luskan. He had been on a journey with his friend Agnor and two wizards of the Arcane Brotherhood Obiran and Feldolin. But northern harsh climate and rumors of frost giant kingdom Kongrike ov Hvítrfjell had been too much for the spellcasters, who had left with magic, leaving Hágo and Agnor alone to the glacier.
Hágo admitted that they had been following the expedition as a mission granted by the Brotherhood, but now that they were abandoned by it, they had no ill-thoughts about the expedition. Thus they wished to join in order to survive, as travelling alone in a glacier was quite suicidal.

After brief negotiations, the members of expedition decided to take Hágo and Agnor in, but many doubtful thoughts were shared between the heroes. Posco even did some eavesdropping on following night to learn Hágos motives, but no evidence of bluff or vile play was present, it seemed that their intentions were genuine.

Destination unkown
As the blizzard stormed for a day, the expedition reached their destination on the fifteenth day, instead of the fourteenth. It seemed that they had arrived to the upper parts of huge ice-fjord, a stream of ice that slowly drained over the years into a vast snowy plain that seemed to be an frozen sea. As night descended upon the glacier and the Cold Crown rose once a gain, Crowgale witnessed a distinct change in the pendant. It gleamed in the starlight, and a engraved picture of the same ice-fjord appeared into the pendant. In the middle of the engraving was a arrow, a clue for their next way point.

Valgaerds pendant with some obvious changes

Thus they slept the night at the top of the glacier and begun descending the ice stream in the morning. Icy slopes and ridges that served as their path were treacherous, and many close calls were witnessed. But luckily no one swerved down. Finally they reached the half-way of the fjord. Quickly an anomaly was discovered, as one bright blue icewall had steam coming from it. On a closer inspection it was revealed that finger thick stream of boiling hot water was pouring from a small crack in the ice.

General consensus was that this had to have something to do with pendants clue, and untrustworthy newcomer Hágo was ordered to use pick against the ice wall. Shielded with elemental protection spell, he began his work, hitting the wall few times hard. But that was few time more than enough. Something moved inside the ice, something that seemed to move in quite lively fashion. Suddenly the whole wall exploded, as it seemed that it had been somekind of a pocket of boiling water, washing Hágo almost off the edge of the cliff. As the fog and steam caused by the water had disappeared a bit, many covered in terror as two centipede-like monsters rattled their red fins.

These abominations were known as remorhaz, monsters of the cold north, with a heat so impressive in their insides that it could destroy even steel weapons that hit the creature. Everyone attacked these monsters with fury as it was apparent that it was either them or us. Their carapace was penetrable, but while everyone were smashing the hell out, Bolwyn and Nespil Crowgale were grappled into maws of these centipede beasts and eventually swallowed whole. This resulted into even more desperate fight, and thanks to newcomers Hágo and Angor, both mosters were struck down.


Bolwyn emerged from the gizzards with severe amnesia, bad burns and wounds alike, but Nepil never recovered from his horrendous wounds. Witnessing the horrible death of his one son, Enoch Crowgale fell to weep and cry his sons fate. Whole expedition was struck with grief as something like this was expected but not welcomed.


As grieving the decesed continued, someone explored a long cavernous tunnel that seemed to lead far into the the Underdark, that was now exposed from the wall. Only thirty feet from the entrance, there was a an ancient wooden board struck into the ice floor like a sign. Thelon managed to decipher the old runes used in it, but he did not known the language. But Enoch knew, and despite his sons demise, he came to the tunnel to see the sign. Tears already in his eyes he turned even more pale as he understood the signs meaning:

"það er engin Thule - There is no Thule"

Chapter Six: Farewell to Summer

Session might have been held 30th of November 

As the expedition proceed with great haste, part of the journal for the timeline of this chapter was written quite poorly, and the other half was destroyed by a winter wolfs freezing breath. Thus it might seem bit shorter recitation than usually.

On third of August the expedition launched onward from Bryn Shanders closed walls. According to Crowgales plan the expedition headed northwards towards Caer Konig, a village along the shore of lake Lac Dinneshere. Passing the Kelvins Cairn, they would then head further 20 miles north towards old burial grounds known as the Dol Aurmeth,  as it was the most viable location to match with Valgaerd Whitefarers log and it's clues for their next destination.

"The frozen tree of Ice Wind Pass, where men hand like apples in the ice-carved branches. The apple rosy-cheeked, the Captain alas, he guides your way."

Northern Ice Wind Dale

First the expedition followed the way towards Easthaven, but soon turned on a smaller trail towards Caer Dineval, Caer Konigs competive big brother. They stumbled upon a herd of deers, only to be ambushed by two ferocious winter wolves on the hunt. Battle was cold at least, but no losses were taken that day!

Upon arriving to Caer Dineval, our heroes learned that the town was on warpath with it's northern cousin, Caer Konig. The latter was overrun by barbariansa few decades ago when a mad wizard Akar Kessel tried to take over the world, and the council of the Ten Towns prescribed the town to barbarian claim.

While resting at Holfi's Homestead inn, Captain of the Townguard Thuor Styrmo advised the expedition to proceed with heightened awareness, as Caer Dinevals governor Dráinn Brent had gone missing on peace-negotiations with the Caer Konig Uthgardts.

Later on the expedition withdrew from Caer Dineval. They arrived to Sarhlid, old meeting place of the nordic tribes, where the presumed peace-meet was rumored to take place. Quick investigation revealed signs of murder and mischief, which lead to eventual conflict. But it was no man that opposed our adventurers, hidden into the carnage that took place at Sarhild, group of red and blue Slaadi attacked our party. These beasts of pure chaos had slaughtered both the men of Caer Dineval but also the Uthgardt barbarians of Caer Konig. But now they met their victors, as our heroes struggled those vile creatures back to the planes they came from.

One survivor was found from that cursed place of mayhem, and he was none the less than Governor Brent himself. Poor fellow had endured much, but the was thankful for saving his life. He told to the heroes that "Grey Wanderer" had stormed into the meeting hall and somehow summoned the Slaadi, but he could not provide any further details as the mental strain had overcame his will.

Days passed and the expedition pushed slowly to the open lands above Kelvins Cairn. Day after the day a faint white glimmer in the horizon expanded until it was clear that they journeyed towards a wall of ice known as the Reghed Glacier. In front of the glacier a great hill rose from the frozen tundra, like a last bastion of the known world, and that was Dol Aurmeth, their destination.

Exploring the hill took some time, especially as it was slightly unclear what they were looking for. No trees grew up here, only some old ceremonial branches of ages old graves of tribesmen reached towards the cold sky. But eventually a spot of interest was found as the glacier descended upon the hill from it's northside where a single old tree was trapped into a crack of ice. There in the light of setting sun, a new view was generated. The sunrays illuminated a part of glacial ice that had apparently entombed several corpses. And one of them seemed to shine faint red light, just like Valgaerds poem had predicted.

Turns were taken as a tunnel was mined trough the ice towards the reddish corpse. But upon reaching it, hell broke lose, or atleast the corpse as it turned out to be animate, undead beign of terrible power. A red amulet was gleaming on it's neck as it hacked trough the men of the expedition that were trying to defend themselves against it. Luckily, still there were no need for graves as the expedition managed to overcome this threat.

Crowgale took the amulet to his possession, as it needed careful study. Meanwhile the expedition continued to heading predicted by Crowgale, penetrating the glacier wall and ascending upon the world of eternal ice.

But none of the expedition knew that the Grey Wanderer was studying their progress from afar.

Chapter Three: Wretches Who Stride Towards Their Doom - Part I

Session was held 16th of February at the Skyhouse of Slumber

"This event often recurs in my dreams. We're travelling through the abandoned mining shafts of Karak-Mons, as they are a valuable shortcut on our way. But out of the blue, these vile creatures assaulted our expedition. How did I not smell their hideous stench nor did I hear their stomping feet and the earth below that cried for every filthy step, 

as they progressed towards us with murder in their minds.

They stroke me apart from my comrades, or was it the fury and ecstasy of the battle that made me forget my place among the ranks. I crack a skull or two, when a new band of enemies push against me. Soon I am trapped under half a dozen hostile mongrels that try to tear me apart, one half-breed on top shouting its mongrel speech, perhaps chanting me as a sacrifice for their murderous and imbecile gods. I bend my head to shout for my comrades for aid, but I see how my fellow Bordfol swings his heavy hammer against one of the supporting wooden pillars of the shaft. 

This... This part of the dream is new to me, I haven't seen it before. Have I forgotten it? At the side of my fellows I see my leader, revered captain Gomerus. But I see no burden of sacrifice in his eyes as they're leaving me behind. No. 

All I see is that he wanted to get rid of me!

Bordfols hammer strikes again and the pillar creaks and the ceiling of the shaft collapses."

-Bolwyn Flameblade from the Clan Mithralheart

"Morning lads!" Nespil Crowgale shouts as he kicks the headboards of our mercenaries beds. Weary travelers had just returned from their scouting mission but now Enoch needs them to further plan their soon upcoming expedition to the north. Loaves of bread in their arms, our sleepy adventurers hustled through the city streets. Summer breeze had finally reached Luskan and life there finally seemed somewhat bearable.

Revealing more than a corner from Valgaerds logbook could cause
some to try an ill-fated expedition by themselves, which would be bad.

Old Crowgale stated that study of the log of Valgaerd the Whitefarer was finally complete and he had made out a destination to pursuit. One of the final phrases of the log implied that they should set their course towards the Ice Wind Pass, one of the northernmost parts of Ice Wind Dale. The phrase goes as following:

"The frozen tree of Ice Wind Pass, where men hang like apples in the ice-carved branches. The apple rosy-cheeked, the Captain alas, he guides your way"

So now as the destination is somewhat clear, it is only a question of how and by who's money. As Enoch had explained earlier, old luskanese lord Konrad Haldurssen was interested in becoming a patron for their expedition, and Enoch was to go and discuss the details of their contract further. Meanwhile, he was still confident that the shortest route to Ice Wind Dale would be by a vessel. The Sea of Moving Ice was rumored to be almost ice-free and Crowgale it was a risk worth taking. Thus he ordered our braves to conduct yet again a short trip to the wharves in order to find a suitable ship and a willing captain to take the expedition through the icy perils of north.

A moment later our lads found themselves from the piers of Luskan. They went for several ships in order to find a captain daring enough to take the risk. Captain Huhtamath from the vessel The Ancient was sceptical about the safety and turned the offer down. Old and rugged ship called Calypsos Cunt had no captain at all as the poor devil hanged from the mast with his first mate due a successful mutiny. Fisherman called Gunnar offered to row them to north with his small fishing boat but our heroes had to turn down the generous offer. Finally the stepped on the the deck of Virgin Ingrid, a sturdy three-masted craft. It's captain was Agmuind Saltskin, a seasoned seawolf with a notorious urge to gamble. He promised to consider their request and even gambled few rounds of Six-Eyed-Spider with our heroes. It is a popular game in the north and here are the rules:

SIX-EYED-SPIDER

• Both players take five six-sided dice. 6 is what you go for as it is the spider that scores a round for you. Both players also nominate one number from 1-5 to be the squasher.

• Then they cast the dice. Both of them count their possible spiders. That whom has more spiders scores a bite for that round. Usually the game is played to 1-3-5 or 10 bites, and that who first reaches that amount wins the game. 

• However, you can "kill" your opponents spiders with your squasher. Let us say that your squasher is number three. 

• You throw 1-1-3-4-6, that be one spider and one squasher.

• Your opponent throws 2-2-4-5-6, that be one spider and no squashers (his squasher was number one)

• Now the round would be a draw as both has equal number of spiders, but as your squasher eliminates your opponents only spider, you win a bite.

• So with luck you could defend yourself against opponents spiders with sufficient amount of squashers even though you'd have no spiders yourself. And in all its simplicity that's about it.

 Our mercenary ship-buyers almost managed double the price for Saltskins seafaring services with few bad rounds but luckily Bolwyn had a wrist of steel and due his efforts they managed to get on the dry.

Deaths constant menace over the
expedition preparations

With the initial contract for a ship, our lads returned to Enoch to inform him about their findings. Crowgale himself had just finished his meeting with Lord Haldurssen, the patron of the expedition. He had mixed news. The good were that Haldurssen was ready to invest 10,000gp to the funding of the voyage, but the bad news were that he wanted to attend the expedition too for reasons unknown. With him about half dozen men. Crowgale was powerless to change his head, and our heroes just had to accept that with the money comes this old geezer in bad health.

Enoch assigned a new task for our heroes. They were to devise an inventory for all the equipment needed in the far north, as chances for receiving any supplies up there were close to zero. Specific quantities of specific items would be examined later as the full party size is confirmed. He also wished that during the next few days the boys would confirm Agmuind Saltskins offer as for the fee. And so, rest of the day was spend at the Seven Sails figuring all the little things that could become handy when the expedition gets real.

Morning came and the sweet scents of summer. These odors were soon forgotten as the lads visited the piers once again in order to hear Saltskins offer. Virgin Ingrids first mate Wyllard the Crab had ill news. Captain Agmuind had gone missing during the night. He had gone to the Cutlass for drink and gamble, but was not seen coming back. Disappearing was against his habits and Wyllard had already send men to find him, who had came back empty handed. Frustrated by  this set-back, our mercenaries agreed to take a run for Agmuind, and to the Cutlass they went.

Quick information gathering at the tavern revealed that man called Artono knew something about the captain. Artono was sitting at a table with his two associates, familiar swashbuckler Windmill-Hacó and perhaps Luskans most notorious mercenary Quorthon the Grim. The lads were not intimidated by Artonos company and questioned him. He had indeed witnessed Agmuind Saltskins game of chance. Few bad casts and foul words had led the captain to some serious trouble with underworld entities. Crimelord known as the Hellmaker, had enough with Saltskins drunken clamor and send him to the Underkeel, perilous realm under the Luskan sewers.

Schnektol and arms-full of something precious.

Captains fate seemed as a sealed one but our brave sell-swords decided he was worth a try. The Cutlass provided it's services once again as it happened to be the current lodging for Luskans official sewer-rat, old timer known as Ulluf Utan. Mister Utan was a toothless geezer covered in grime and filth, but he was helpful nevertheless. He warned our heroes that the Underkeel was the most hostile and vile section of the old tunnels and caverns that the luskanese addressed as sewers.

No time was spend to irrelevant queries and our search-party rushed towards the entrance that led to the sewer section that was in question. As Ulluf Utan led them farther to the rotten depths, a voice whispered for help. As they scouted for its source, a severely maimed and crippled man was found, lying next to his dead mate that was already a cadaver. When suddenly a pack of rats burst out of the mans belly. It soon began quite obvious that it was not a mere peck of rats, it was a whole swarm of pests that your heroes had to fend off. Dozens of nasty bites later they were able to push deeper to the sewers, except that their guide, mister Utan, had escaped as he saw the swarm. So now our heroes were all by themselves.

The upper sewers soon came to and end, but a small trapdoor led our explorers into lower levels. They had just descended to the Underkeel when a strange little man told them to beat it. Man was called Schnektol Dungstone, he was a svirfneblin, deep gnome, digging and looting for booty. Schnektol knew Hellmaker and the location of his criminal nest. Little fellow promised to guide our lads there, and soon they reached an old door near a pond of sewage. Schnektol explained that it was the entrance to the Forecourt, Hellmakers stronghold. The deep gnome stayed hidden in the background as our heroes closed in with the entrance. The door was locked fast, and Posco began lockpicking it with his nimble hands.

But the pool possessed a menace. A pack of scaly men known as the lizardfolk that had been assigned to guard the entrance assaulted our heroes. Their clubs and javelins hit fast and hard, but Tymora was on our adventurers side that day, as they managed to slay those wretched back-assaulting geckos. But the battle had taken its toll, none of them was in a condition well enough that they could raid the Forecourt and face Hellmaker in order to free captain Agmuind. If he was even alive anymore.

Thus they had to return to the surface for a rest, 

and hope that Agmuind Saltskin would withstand one more day

 in the forgotten bowels of the City of Seven Sails....

Chapter One: Compass to the North - Encounters in the City of Sails Part II

Session was still held 24th-26th of August at the Shadowy Cabin of the Hidden Lands.

Read Part I here to keep up with the plot.

The Withering Wench had high south winds on her sails, plunging the vessel towards the island of Icepeak, where the harbor of Aurilsbarg awaited for our new heroes. Bolwyn and Orgot were experiencing the joys of marine travel for the first time, although Posco was also quite a greenhorn at the seas. Only Thelon had experience from the seas, but the human ships felt much cruder to him than the elven vessels that floated through the waves with no rocking.
Their peaceful naval travel came to a quick halt, when a loud shout was heard "THAR SHE BLOWS!". Men on the Wench exploded into action, pulling ropes and preparing one of the whaleboats for it's purpose. Captain Herrod asked if the passengers would like to take part of a whale hunt, and with the guidance of Otkell, ships most experienced harpooner, they agreed to come.
The boat was soon on the waves, men rowing furiously to gain with the whale. The crew had identified it as a minke whale, a perfect size of a whale for our newcomer harpooners. Although the art of the harpoon throwing proved to be quite an obstacle, the whale was eventually catched.

Rest of the journey went without notable encounters. Captain decided to process the whale at the harbor, so the Withering Wench towed the carcass alongside it. After two days of successful seafaring, the ship reached the frozen harbor of Aurilsbarg. Walruses greeted the ship with their great bellowing. It was clear that summer was yet to come to this northern island that was the last island with permanent settlements before the Sea of Moving Ice. Small city of Aurilsbarg was the trade nexus for the fishing villages around the island, and only one to support a open harbor through the harsh winter. The town center was small with only two dozen buildings and it was hard to believe that it actually had population of almost 3000. But there was no city wall and most of the buildings were widely spread along the coastline and the hillsides. There in the shadow of the gigantic mountain the Icepeak the city of Aurilsbarg had stood for centuries, frozen for ten months in a year.

Small city of Aurilsbarg

From the center of the city our adventurers found a comfy inn called Pint & Tusk. The innkeeper, Eilif Ekkilson greeted the newcomers warmly and every patron there gathered around them to hear about news from the continent. Enoch Crowgale explained their ambitions to investigate Valgaerd the Whitefarers final resting place, and although the audience that they shouldn't tamper with the past, they wished luck for the heroes on their deed.

Servant of the Flames
After the peaceful night of rest on the firm ground, the team left to the Church of the Frozen Waves, a temple of goddesses Auril and Umberlee. The Church was just outside the city and it was the only one that was full stone-craft  as the others were mainly wood with stone foundation. The Church was covered with frost, but unlike the inn and all the other buildings of the city, the Church was also frozen from the inside. As our mercenaries stepped in, Atledan, the priest in charge, received them. As he understood that the heroes hadn't come to seek mercy from the wrath of the goddesses, he became reluctant to cooperate.

Perfect example of the
brave nature of Kobolds

Valgaerd did have a small mausoleum inside the church, but Atledan declared further investigation blasphemous. But just as the disappointed investigators were bout to leave, the priest came up with a proposition. If they would bring him the head of Vasiljus the Dookian, the sacrifice might be adequate for the goddesses to consent to the excavation of the tomb.

Quick round of information gathering around the city provided the adventurers with all the details they needed. Vasiljus the Dookian had come to the Icepeak from somewhere south. He was a devoted servant of Kossuth, the deity of fire. His plan was to awaken the slumbering volcano inside the Icepeak. The Aurilsbargians weren't quite fond with his plan, and he soon retreated to his cabin at the mountainside. Locals have tried to forgot him, but recently local hunters have heard strange barking and yapping from his isolated mountain cabin.

With the information they needed, Thelon, Posco, Bolwyn and Orgot headed towards the Icepeak. Crowgale stayed behind as he felt that the headhunt wasn't for him. The ascend to the cabin was a harsh one, and late that night they finally reached the desolate cabin. Little warm light flickered through it's small windowpanes and Posco took the privilege of little scouting. He positioned himself behind the window, as he saw Vasiljus talking to someone/something that yapped back to him. The others took position behind the door and from Poscos mark, Bolwyn kicked the door in. Posco himself launched a bolt through the windowpane, but failed to bring the worshipper of Kossuth down.

For everyone's surprise, the cabin was full of kobolds, wretched pawns in Vasiljus's fiery plans. The charge inside the cabin was rapid, but Vasiljus escaped into inner cavern that was dug from inside the cabin into the mountainside. There were more kobolds that had organized themselves into defensive positions. Thelon almost killed himself as he charged against the defensive wall, but the rest of our headhunters followed quickly, and the small lizardfolk were soon defeated. Only Vasiljus himself proved to be bit challenging as he swung his tendrils of flame (the preferred weapon of Kossuth, spiked chains), but eventually our brave firefighters extinguished the fire of life from his eyes.

Because of the nightfall, the journey back to Aurilsbarg could have been perilous, so our heroes decided to stay in the cabin until the morning. While staying there, they had good time for some looting, and with an appraise done hastily, they counted treasure worth of almost 2000 gold pieces.
After the uneasy night at the scene of a bloodbath, our mercenaries wandered back to the coastal city. Quick trip to fetch mister Crowgale from the inn, and the headhunters began to approach the church.

Priest Atledan was really pleased when he learned that his rival
Vasiljus the Doorian had met his end. 

Priest Atledan was pleased to receive Vasiljus's head, and he began to perform the sacrificial rites immediately. Whims of the two goddesses were at our heroes side, as they were granted the opportunity to explore the tomb of Valgaerd.

The Tomb of the Whitefarer
The cubic mausoleum of Valgaerd was quite easy to open. But a surprise occurred to our grave robbers as the tomb was empty. There was a big hole in the middle of the tomb and it looked like it had collapsed years ago. A rope was tied around Bolwyn and the dwarf was lowered down into a cramped tunnel that ran beneath the crypt. As the others descended also, they began to investigate the strange complex of these low tunnels that forced Thelon and Orgot to cower really uncomfortably. It was soon obvious that some grave-robbers had dug all these tunnels, as many ceilings had holes to other tombs and crypts that lied in the church, and the tunnels had bones scattered everywhere.

Tomb Mote from book Libris Mortis

Crowgale managed to dig up old burial shield that, according the runes engraved into it's surface, belonged Valgaerd the Whitefarer, but no sign of any kind of journal or logbook that Crowgale believed to be buried alongside the corpse. Eventually they stumbled upon a slightly wider "room" that had served as a resting room for the tunnelers. There they found lot's of mining equipment, alongside a sack of loot robbed from the graves. A tunnel leading out of the room had collapsed and three maimed corpses of the grave-robbers lied in front of the cave-in.
While the heroes examined the wounds of the mummified tunnelers, Enoch Crowgale searched around the room and managed to find a old withered and worn book that he quickly identified to be Valgaerds logbook! His joy ended fast, as something approached them with great speed. Two tiny,vaguely humanoid,creatures attacked our fellowship, clawing and biting with unnatural haste, not so often attributed to undead creatures. These tomb motes  challenged our heroes, but once again they prevailed. As they began to ascend from the grave, all the loot obtained from the perished grave-tunnelers, were hidden so that the priest wouldn't notice them. As Atledan heard about the tunnels underneath, he was shocked not to notice them before. And using his shock to their advance, our mercenaries left the church with sacks full of gold.

The Dead Haverigg

Later that night, our mercenaries were raising their pints for success at the church. Captain Herrod was there too with his men, and he told that ship called Shivering Nordman would leave towards Luskan within a week, but its captain Randvir Unnarrson hasn't yet returned from his home village, so the heroes couldn't ask for a ride just yet. Thought of boredom while waiting for the captain bothered our heroes, but a old man overheard their conversation and approached them with a bet. Kell was his name and he dared that our heroes would not have the courage to spend a night in the village of Daud-Haverigg. Of course they swallowed the bait and promised to venture there as soon as possible, meaning the next morning.

Village of Daud-Haverigg

At the break of next dawn, the party gathered for their journey. Crowgale stayed at the inn to began his studies with the logbook that seemed to be written with some sort of a secret code that he hadn't yet been able to break. Crowgale promised also to look after their ride back to Luskan, if only Captain Unnarrson would return first.
Journey to east, towards Daud-Haverigg took the whole day, and at dusk they finally reached the old fishing village. It looked abandoned with all it's buildings were more or less ramshackle. Village road was still covered by thick snow, with no sign of trails or human footsteps. But in the middle of the village, faint light gleamed from small windows of a inn named "Blue Burial-Inn". Our four heroes walked inside and the innkeeper Dalfarr welcomed them in. He acknowledged that the village had drifted into decay, as did few nodding patrons, sipping their pints in the corner. But no signs of terror painted by old man Kell was found, and our heroes took a room as they were to stay for the night to win the bet.

Shortly after midnight Thelon woke up feeling cold. All the warmth had disappeared from the inn and the room they were had turned into dark abandoned nightmare. As he tried to awaken the others, low growling and muffled stumping was heard behind the door. Just as they had taken up their arms, the door was forced in and a pack of bloodthirsty zombies charged in!
Defeating the small group was relatively easy task, but soon our daredevils understood that the living dead were swarming in with constantly increasing rate. The biggest and the ugliest of them was Dalfarr, the innkeeper himself, who instead of serving pints, served our heroes with terrible zombie assaults. The others positioned themselves into the high end of a staircase in order to defend efficiently against the horde, but Posco was left to trouble as the undead managed to force themselves up the stairs, bringing part of the first floor ceiling down, and opening a new route for attack. As the others hacked the zombies to pieces, Posco tried to escape from the claws of the innkeeper, who had taken the small halfling as it's target. But that night was not their last, and they managed slay every last one of the undead. Closer examination of the wretched inn after the battle revealed some horrible secrets, and some modest loot too! Dalfarrs account book had it's last note dated to 12.2.1342,  which was thirty years ago. Also, a hidden room was found from the basement, and there lied a corpse of a shackled woman. Apparently she was a sorceress of some sort, and from his basement cell wall a short written curse was found: "Cursed be thine village, may thee walk eternally, as dead and restless"

The Red Claw
After a restless night in the village of Haverigg, our adventurers began their journey back. It was shadowed by Orgots illness that was diagnosed to be originating from the tombs beneath the Church of Frozen Waves. By the end of the day Thelon succumbed too for this dread disease, but lucky for them, they arrived back to Aurilsbarg in time. Priest Atledan removed the disease with his divine magic, but they were still quite weakened as it had ravished their bodies greatly. Later that night at the inn, old man Kell admitted his defeat, and the mercenaries were acknowledged as brave lads!

Next morning, Orgot and Thelon stayed at bed in order to recover, but Posco and Bolwyn went to the piers to book themselves to Shivering Nordman. Captain Unnarrson was favorable to take them as passengers, and our shorties planned to return back to the inn. But a local huntsman, the Master Huntsman of Aurilsbarg to be exact, Mordr, intercepted them and asked them to give their opinion about something. After a short walk to the seaside rocks where the walruses had been earlier, Mordr showed them a scene of murder. Almost a dozen dead walruses lied there ripped and gutted, with no clear sign by whom or what. As the island had no natural predators, Mordr was quite puzzled by this massacre. Posco and Bolwyn promised to help and after closer investigation, Posco found tuft of fur from a tusk of a great bull. Mordr couldn't identify the coarse, dark grey fur and the investigators returned to inn to show it to Crowgale. He was almost certain that it belonged to a wolf, but their absence from the island aroused even more questions. Query around the city came up with nothing, but Bolwyn and Posco already had their own theories for the suspect. They believed that the bloodbath was a work of a werewolf, as the moon was currently full too! Mainly because of this theory, they stayed up late, circling around the town, watching out for any wandering wolfmen.

A Werewolf

But their efforts were in vain, as the mysterious killer stroke before they could witness it. Niklaus Domarsson was a local craftsman living his life as everyone else in Aurilsbarg but now he was dead, shredded in the same way that the walruses night before. Posco and Bolwyn executed series of investigations although they couldn't get far with the mystery. But during the day, a word reached their ears that Dagstyrr the Locksmith was found naked and unconscious earlier that morning. Our Sherlocks proceeded to Dagstyrr's residence immediately, to question him. The locksmith stated that he had drank heavily last night, and couldn't recall anything from the last night.
Something wasn't alright about Dagstyrr, but as our heroes had no real evidence about their shapeshifting werewolf, another night of vigilance was needed. That night was also the last of three-night-phase of the fullmoon, so if the werewolf would present itself, this was the last change. Orgot and Thelon, who had finally gained some of their strenght back, joined also for the nightwatch.

After uncountable hours of patient waiting, a loud shout broke the anticipating silence. Posco arrived to the scene first and he witnessed a great beast, half a man, half a wolf, shredding one member of townguard apart. Posco pulled the wolfmans attention to himself, and the maimed townguard managed to escape his doom. Soon the rest of our heroes arrived, and although the shapeshifter was resilient, repelling most of the strokes with it's supernatural resistance of mundane weapons. But eventually the load of damage was too great for the wolfman, and the beast collapsed. It turned out that Dagstyrr the Locksmith was after all the one behind the menace. Later on it was speculated that Dagstyrr had contacted the lycanthrophy on his journeys on the continent. The Master Huntsman Mordr thanked the heroes for solving the mystery behind the murders. He also granted a small reward for their job by the behalf of Oddnar Alrek, the Jarl of Aurilsbarg.

Return to Luskan
After a quick nap during the forenoon, our heroes packed the gear and stepped to the Shivering Nordman, their ticket back to the continent. The voyage was a success and our mercenaries managed to rest for few days. During their rest, Crowgale engrossed in to the logbook even more, but the key to the secret code was still waiting for him to unveil it.
One encounter occured during the voyage, as Posco was awakened during the night by some shady sneaking just in front of him. The sneaking sailor, Chale, claimed that he was just walking by, but Posco accused him to be a thief. The ships bosun Oleg interrupted the quarrel before it escalated any further. But the seed of suspicion stayed was left behind, and Posco kept his eyes open.

Windmill-Hágo

Rest of the journey went well and it was a beautiful morning when the ship arrived to the Piers of Luskan. While they were unloading their gear and themselves from the Shivering Nordman, Posco spotted that Chale the sneaky sailor was whispering suspiciously to some crooks at the pier and pointing out the heroes direction. Our observant rogue informed the rest about his suspicions and they proceed to the piers with great caution.

The halfling guessed it right, as soon they were surrounded with thugs asking for their purses. The leader of the band (who called themselves as The Amazing Luskan Lads) was a flamboyant swordfighter named Windmill-Hágo, who presented himself in exquisite manner. As our heroes declined to hand over their possessions, the Lads tried to subdue them. Our veteran mercenaries responded in lethal fashion, wounding few severely. Finally Thelon charged against Hágo himself, who had previously abstained himself from the battle. Our brave elf learned a quick lesson about mastery of blades, as Hágo slapped him with his swords flat several times. Disappointed by his unskilled adversary, Hágo left the scene only to challenge our mercenaries again one day, when they would be ready for it.

As Thelon regained his consciousness, and the rest had finished beating the Lads till pulp, our awesome quartet ( plus Crowgale) took a small breather and stepped towards the alleyways.

And by the way they were just greeted at the piers, they knew they were back in the City of Sails!

Chapter One: Compass to the North-Encounters at the City of Sails - Part I

Session was held 24th - 26th of August at the Hidden Cabin of Shadowlands

"I am the last,

so may the Gods hear my testimony.

It really does exist,

the legends are true.

Oh how I wish they would not be."

Sword Coast North

The day was Fourth of June 1372 after the Dale Reckoning. Summers first breaths were spreading across the north, and the spring drizzle was reviving the flora in this harsh land that is known as the Sword Coast North. There, in the independent port city of Luskan, two companions walked through the muddy streets filled with cutthroats that were ready to loot the last remaining coins from the cold corpse of the unwary. The two found their way into notorious tavern known as the Cutlass. There with fresh pints in their hands,  the weary travelers had the opportunity to witness a curious performance. The whole tavern ceased it's ever-continuing brawl only to hear the story told by man known as Enoch Crowgale. 

That will be me, my dear reader.

"For those who I haven't met before, may I present myself, the name is Enoch Crowgale. I came here tonight to tell you about a myth that I reckon to be the myth of Ultima Thule, but which many know as the Land of Eternal Light. This place of legend has been called since the Dawn of Toril as Thaczil Di Ro Kear by the Great Ancient Wyrms, while the elves who once strolled these northern lands knew it as Myth Cor'Cirith. So did the dwarves in their deep mines beneath the majestic mountains, Ankor A Bryngrom was the name of the myth and Migdhal Wyrdrazh was the great outpost that stood there. Even the foul creatures who lurked in the mountains above the dwarven strongholds had the name Uzg ob Gith-Drautas reappearing time after time in their crude orc sagas.You known that you have heard from it in the disguise of the familiar medley sung by skalds from the campfires to Halls of the Kings:

Enoch Crowgale 

North - From the Kingdoms of Men,
North- From the Great Dwarven Halls.
North - From where the Elves have strode,
North- From the Last Giant Throne.

Beyond - The Gods and their might,
Beyond - The Great  White Glacier.
There lies the Land of Eternal Light,
Now, always and never.

As I have hastily proven, this miraculous land walks with us regardless the race or culture. It's ethereal promises of power and riches untold have aroused many for searches in vain, and thus it has been said that no one has ever seen nor witnessed it's glory. They say it is only a myth. But I am to prove them wrong as I know what they didn't know. I know the man who saw it and returned and I have the compass to guide me there, and few of you may reach it in my company. So those intrigued by my words, join me later this evening at the third booth for wine and chatter, and maybe we are able to negotiate the terms for our journey together!"

And thus the sage ended his short performance and the crowd was left pondering his words. But soon the patrons burst into laughter, trying to outwit each other with mocking rants about Crowgale and his ill-famed journey of regulating  food rations from Luskan to Neverwinter. As the troubadour resumed to his play, the two companions began to peer for the third booth, and soon mister Crowgale appeared there with a full jug of wine. Quickly after he had sat down, four men approached the booth. These four were the men that we would soon learn to known as the Adventurers.

First sat the two companions.
First one was a young shield dwarf fighter Bolwyn Flameblade from the Citadel of Adbarr,
and his companion was a orc cleric Orgot Shatargat-thrak from Clan Ironjaws of eastern Spine of the World mountains. An odd couple indeed.
After them came a small man from the Western Heartlands, Posco Pepper, a halfling.
And after him came his friend, an elf from the distant realms that still possesses the splendor of yesterday, Thelon Celtharion of Evermeet.
These four quite different men were the only ones to show genuine interest for Crowgales speech, and thus they were just a glimpse away from the begin of the greatest adventure of their lifetime.

Bolwyn Flamblade, Thelon Celtharion, Orgot Shatargat-thrak, Posco Pepper

Crowgale explained his plans briefly, not giving away too much information just yet, as he could not be sure about the motives of the four. He had planned recruiting some sort of mercenaries for the solid core of his expedition to the Ultima Thule, and the four men interested about his speech would suite just well, if only they'd be willing. He promised them great adventures and possibly great wealth split in fifth-shares, but only after good night of sleep, as tomorrow he would reveal more.
The four mercenaries were quite enthusiastic about Crowgales expedition plans, and they promised to escort him to his apartment, while he would show them the Seven Sails-inn on the way.

But Luskan showed it's danger just outside the Cutlass, as two thugs were to mug Crowgale and his new companions. Rat-Zim and Spikefist demanded Enoch to hand over his compass that he had shown earlier at the tavern. Crowgale was willing to cope, but the four mercenaries prepared a show-off of their skills. After a split second of high speed action, Spikefist sat crying for his shattered guts, and Rat-Zim lied on the muddy street with his left eye punctured, shaking in a neurological shock. The adventurers had a promising start.

Later that evening the heroes arrived to Seven Sails inn, where the innkeeper Vegar Rosolov offered his quality, although ridiculously overpriced, services. After the good night of sleep granted with exclusive right of Arcane Brotherhood, the heroes gathered around a marine breakfast which was plentiful. For the record, that was the first time Bolwyn and Orgot tasted seafood.

Valgaerd Last Poem
(slightly modified
Dream-Land by
Edgar Allan Poe)

As the morning grew to forenoon, four men who had slowly found a common tongue among themselves, gathered at Crowgales apartment. It was filled with books and strange gadgets with geography and measurement importance. He also had a full shelf of compasses, a curious wit of a somewhat possessed mind. Now as everyone was still interested about his great expedition after a night of sleep, he began adding details.

Crowgale explained that he believed that man known as Valgaerd the Whitefarer managed to reach the Ultima Thule and return from it. As a partial evidence he presented the adventurers a short poem penned on the death bed of no one else than the Whitefarer himself. In addition to this he had confirmed from several sources that Valgaerd had kept a journal or log about his adventure beyond the glaciers. None had ever witnessed it so it was merely a legend as the whole Thule adventure itself. But Crowgale had a hunch about the log, as he had managed to dig up information that Valgaerd had been buried with some sorts of documents. And thus, our newly formed adventure team received their first quest for plundering the tomb of Valgaerd.
Crowgale reckoned that the nordman was buried on the island of Icepeak, that was few hundred miles northwest from Luskan. Crowgale administrated the heroes to acquire a vessel of transportation from the piers of Luskan, and he preferred to depart tomorrow morning. And so they left to the Luskan Piers in search for a suitable ship to Icepeak island.

Old man Martinus - the tanner

The harbor of Luskan was known as the Piers and it was located on the Dragon Beach, southern one of the many sand strands of the mouth of River Mirar.   The piers were full of sailors and lowlifes seeking to gain advantage from one's misery, but with determination our four sell-swords tracked down a harbor clerk called Garald Karenin, who was able to pinpoint a suitable ship for their desires. Withering Wench was the name of the ship and Herrod the Herring was its captain. Walking past ships macabre figurehead (mummified old woman in a red dress) sure gave them shrivels but the old caravel seemed otherwise quite seaworthy. Captain Herring (who got his epithet from being successful on fishing the northern Sword Sea herrings into extinction) accepted the travelers into his ship that would depart next morning, but he asked them to perform a small task in favor.

Ships First Mate Jónsi explained that he would need the four braves to help him carry some leathers and hides from a local tannery. The four companions agreed to help although they felt their skills weren't in a good use doing such dull labor. Later that evening after spending the day goofing at the marketplace, our heroes returned to the piers, where Jónsi had just launched a small whaleboat from Wenches stern. Rowing they went towards the sunset and after mile or two of following the coastline to south, when they docked into a old pier that belonged to the tannery of Martinus. Stench was foul as they struggled out of the boat, while Jónsi sneaked closer to the tannery waving a small but fierce club in his hand. At this point the mercenaries understood they were heading towards a brawl. And with a quick move, Jónsi stormed inside the tannery, shouting Captains greetings for the treacherous tanner Martinus.

The scuffle was bloody, leaving Martinus incapacitated, maiming his wife and killing their son. Martinus had positioned a local mercenary on his front door, but the backdoor assault forced the sell-sword to surrender quickly. The hides were quickly carried back to the launch, and our mercenaries rowed into the nightly mist.

Later on, as they returned to Luskan with all the leathery plunder, Jónsi explained that brutal actions were necessary as Martinus had declined to pay up his debts earlier this day. And so our newly weds returned to the Seven Sails Inn and slept few hours only to return to the piers at the dawn with mister Crowgale, who was excited to see his age-old dream finally coming into life. Their success at the icepeak would determine whether or not the expedition would be formed.  And so  the Withering Wench departed towards Aurilsbarg, the "capital" of the Icepeak, and our new heroes began their first real quest together.

The Withering Wench leaving Luskan at dawn.

End of Part One