Narratives of the Cold Waste - Part IV

Climbing step after step of endless stairs upwards, Orgot could not help wondering was this really the reason Talos had sent him on this quest to North. He kept telling himself "Means to an end, means to an end", but still he could not shake the feeling that something was not right on this path. 

These thoughts were quickly ended when the group reached the end of the staircase, and exit from the grueling Underdark. Breath of fresh air was of no comfort, when Orgot soon found himself face to face alone with a huge frost giant on top of a cliff. Summoning every flaming spell Talos would grant him, Orgot hoped that the unforgiving Storm Lord had not heard his blasphemous thoughts of doubt in the tunnels bellow. Apparently not, since Orgot was able to scorch the giant with unforeseen infernous might, and with the help of his friends the frost giant was quickly defeated. But not without a cost. 

Thelon had fallen on the frost giants axe after heroic attempt to aid Orgot in battle. Seeing his friends battered body lying on the cliff, barely breathing, Orgot could not help but to wonder "How much more can this guy take? The elf sure has more courage than constitution..." Joy of his friend being alive was quickly diminished, as Orgot saw flame after flame lighting on the watchtowers around the vale bellow. And as he saw the unbelievably gigantic army of orcs, frost giants and other foul creatures of the North, Orgot truly hoped that Talos would not abandon him on this day...

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 Five: Gates of Ice

Session was held at the Penthouse of Pain 19th of October

Every now and then a ship full of adventurers arrive to Targos

The expedition had finally arrived to the Icewind Dale. Now within the relative safety of the  fortified town of Targos they had a moment to spare for further preparations in order to relocate themselves in Bryn Shander, the capital of the Ten Towns. Even though the journey through the Sea of Moving Ice had been perilous, none of the members had succumbed under the burden. But that was not the case with the crewmembers of Virgin Ingrid. Half-dozen men had died from Captain Saltskins crew, forcing the ship to Targosian dry-dock for length of the winter. Most of the surviving ones planned to return south along trade caravans, and the Captain himself visioned a future as a career-fisherman in the lake Maer Dualdon.

As the shipmates were clearly stranded, Enoch Crowgale was planning expeditions next move with furious pace. He had rented two wagons for the following day, as reaching Bryn Shander was a top priority. But he maneged to dine with Kemp, the mayor of Targos, as the rest of expedition were getting hammered at a tavern. Orgot, the depressed half-orc, was especially feeling the power of brews, as he proclaimed loudly how he had finally met his god, Talos, and how He had blessed him with His thunder.
As the rest listened for the green drunkards rant, a man, local pub patron, assaulted Thelon with a knife, dissing him as a murderer. The fool was quickly subdued, and as the innkeeper explained that the patron, Lorent Silkspindle had recently became a widow, the heroes understood his outburst. Nevertheless, it was clear that poor Lorent had mistaken Thelon as someone "elvish".

Vetrvaders Sign

Everything was set, and as a first thing in the morning the expeditions wagons departed Targos. Eleazar the Algarondian, the mingy merchant to rent the wagons, and his son Schmaiah joined for the travel, as they would drive the wagons back right after reaching Bryn Shander. The Dale beyond Targos was a rugged tundra, devoid of snow for now, but desolate nonetheless. After few hours of travelling, the road descended into a green vale with tall pines, pouring glass clear streams and beautiful birdsong. But that illusion was soon dispelled as Posco and Thyngall Pedersen halted the convoy. The trail was blocked by a giant and a goblin, both clad in crude armor. The giant in particular was an prominent obstacle to cross, but working as a close-knit group, such a threat was soon demolished. As they searched the corpses, two crude amulets with a matching sigils were found. Bolwyn remembered hearing about a increasing threat of a northern  ice giant kingdom, Kongrike ov Hvítrfjell and their notorious ice giant king Vetrvader, and he was convinced that the symbols were the kings mark. Thus they speculated if these two were just some deserters, with their "quality" equipment, how mighty could Vetrvader be?

Later on, just before dusk, the wagons came within range of vision with Bryn Shanders palisades. The gateguard was reluctant to let the expedition pass, as he declared the town to be under a guarantee. Such a delay was not part of Crowgales plans, and after insisting strongly, access was granted for part of the Cassius beckoned them. After leaving their backpacks to Geldenstag's Rest inn, they dashed to before-mentioned late-night council meeting.

expedition. While insisting, he even managed to invite the leading members of the party to meet Bryn Shanders council, as the councils spokesman

Something was indeed wrong with the town, as many of its inhabitants were showing acute signs of severe respiratory symptoms. And indeed, the council confirmed their observations. The members of the council that night were Cassius himself, councilman Azurr, townguards commander Jökull Engeset, priestress of Oghma Dasha Shimova and scientist/cleric of Mystra Arcangelo Izzi. During the meeting they revealed that the cause for this apparent plague was unknown, and the few clerics were struggling to heal people, that became sick again the day after. Crowgale offered the heroes to investigate the cause and possible cure, while he would do last-minute research in Temple of Oghma's library. There was also a evident juxtaposition among the council, as Arcangelo Izzi was offering his help, and the rest accused each other to be responsible for the epidemic.

But our mercenaries decided to follow Izzis way, as he was only one to even try to find a solution. He took them to his laboratory-apartment that was based in a old mill at the northern part of town. Full of strange apparatus and esoteric tomes, he gave a tour around his work, also downstairs laboratory. There they saw a one of the earliest victims of the plague, a local woman, in her death throes. Sight of the repellent nature of the latter phase of the disease, the heroes were ready to give their best to help to find a cure. Arcangelo explained that in order to run extensive tests he needed fifty vials of contaminated blood, small samples from 50 different persons. The mercenaries saw this as a rational task, as many locals could be reasoned to grant small dose of blood.

Arcangelo Izzi, and spectacular laboratory magic

Next morning the group split in order to collect the samples faster. Arcangelo had asked them to deliver the vials as they got them, so that he could run tests all day long. He had defined almost five dozen different mixtures and ingredients to combine with the samples in order to find one that acts as a remedy. No samples were asked from the council members as they seemed to shun Arcangelos research, especially priestress Shimova and spokesman Cassius. By the end of the day all the samples were delivered and the wizard shut himself into his laboratory to run rest of the tests.

With the arrival of dawn acme also the long-awaited solution. Arcangelo Izzi had found right ingredients to cure the disease but he had a problem. In order to refine the remedy to be potent enough to cure the whole town, the wizard needed a catalytic substance, one he called the most powerful conjuration-binder known to the Art, a fresh human heart. This unprecedented request was one that required careful consideration, but as Izzi showed a bounty-poster he had taken from a tavern wall earlier, the decision was easier to make. The four  mercenaries were ready to hunt down a poacher known as Hedeon Horn, wanted dead or alive, and bring him to Arcangelo who volunteered to butcher the poor wretch. For this was the only available option left to save rest of the townfolk.

Hedeon Horn was known to camp around Gloombog, south of Bryn Shander. Guards at the gate were easily bluffed to let the heroes pass as they believed a small white lie that mister Horn was behind the whole epidemic, and he should be brought to justice.

As the vigilantes reached the swamp, tracking the poacher was relatively easy job. It seemed that he had evaded justice because no one dared to enter the bog, which was strange as the heroes found it to be relatively cozy place. Hedeon Horn was found and subdued from a old hunting shack, and delivered tied up back to Bryn Shander. Arcangelo Izzi was more than relieved to find out that creating the cure was just a matter of few hours of work. He left the heroes upstairs to sip tea and take a breather for a while, as he would perform the heart removing operation downstairs in his laboratory.

Strange sounds were heard as the bounty hunters were waiting for Izzi to do his part, and everyone shared a peculiar feeling that something was not right. As they took a peek downstairs, Hedeon Hooks mutilated corpse was left on the table and Izzi was escaping through a secret door. As the heroes scolded themselves for being so naive, they plunged after the apparent impostor, fearing that this all had been some vague necromantic scheme. Passage following the secret door spiraled down into a great underground cave that was eerily illuminated by trail of torches burning alongside a pathway that cut through thornbush-like roots that infested the floor. Thelon who was the spearhead of the pursuit, witnessed Arcangelo flying through the cavern, and thus he received slight advantage as our heroes had to tread through the rooted path. On the other end of the cavern rose an ominous obstacle, cyclopean hexagon tower, apparently cut from one solid block of strange stone. Crude wooden stairs went to one opening on the side and continued upward from the other side.

Lord Pest

Once inside, they saw that same plague-ridden woman that Izzi had previously portrayed as the first disease victim. Actually she was Suppur, crazed woman who had turned herself into being a "cancer mage" (see; Book of Vile Darkness). She was in the middle of the room, nurturing a queer sack of pulsating flesh, that was seemingly pumping some kind of toxic up to the town through several pipes that was infused into it. Dazed by grotesque of both cancer mage and that disease-sack, the heroes stormed Suppur down, slaying her and continuing upwards where Arcangelo Izzi had escaped. But the whole stone tower trembled suddenly, and a evil-sounding laughter and speech was heard from upstairs. Little bit shocked from the trembles, they entered upper level with caution, finding Izzi standing besides a great undead being. The thing had fifty vials of blood hooked into it via small metal strings, and apparently Izzi the necromancer had inserted the poachers heart inside it's ribcage, thus awakening the monster. He shouted in mad bliss "Lord Pest! Lord Pest!" to which the mummy answered by casting him aside and attacking the heroes.
The battle against Lord Pests undead vigor was a grievous one. It's strength was beyond their abilities, and one after another they fell, maimed and hurt, to the floor. But one had the stamina and wits to outcome this encounter, and it was the halfling. Without Poscos effort, everyone would have died that day, but the small blades of the tiny rogue vanquished both the necromancer and his creation. After destroying the mummy, our heroes decimated the sack of disease, and transported the unconscious necromancer back to the surface to answer for his crimes.

Members of the council were relieved to learn that the imminent threat was now gone, and after Izzi confessed that the disease was actually harmless flu, they decided that the guarantee was no longer needed. Izzi in the other hand, managed to spin delicate web of lies and our heroes were enraged that the council put down the most serious accusations.

But never the less, he was going to face a long sentence in Bryn Shanders cold prison, although when considering where the heroes themselves would head next, Arcangelo Izzi had the more hospitable one of the two options.

To the North!