Chapter Four: The Shadow of the Ironmaster

Session was held at the Cabin of Shadows 16th - 17th of August 

"The summer breeze that still at the continent felt somewhat warm, had now turned into a  much more biting variety. Such was it's bite that a man peering over the edge of the ship shriveled.The wind blowing from the distant shore brought a familiar smell, sweet yet stingy scent of a wild-pepper bush. It was rather surprising that such a plant had spread to such northern latitude. The scent also brought up memories.
It was a sunny summer day of course. He and his little sister Nin were up to go fishing with old bachelor Jaamakki Sammaltakki, although Jaamakki was widely considered as bad influence for the two young ones. And what a splendid day for fishing it was, as the river near the village was abundant of fine catch. As the sun began to descend, the two young ones decided to return to the village, while the old bachelor stayed for little longer. There as the siblings made their way back, a strong scent of wild-pepper bushes that grew near their home, tickled the noses of the two.
As they turned to the small paved road only a lep from their home, they saw mob of people buzzing around their home. Aunt-Berthe ran to the children and weeping and hugging the two who were oblivious for what had happened. None of the five river-perches they had catch was eaten, as the aunt took the two to her place, as there were no one left waiting for the siblings at their home.
The sorrow that followed as the children realized what had happened soon turned into anger, and it was fed by the constant sympathies and condolences that the villager poured on the two orphans. Only two weeks after the grievous incident, they left their aunts house, half-empty backpacks with only some food and stolen silverware of their aunts. And a bag of pepper."

The journey through the northern seas had finally begun. Captain Saltskin  and Enoch Crowgale had calculated that it would take them approximately one and a half week to reach the delta of River Shaengarne at the coast of the Icewind Dale.  The river would then take our fellowship all away up to the port of Targos at lake Maer Dauldon. But neither could the Captain or sage Crowgale foresee if the river was passable all the way up to the lake.

An albatross is always an omen.

Virgin Ingrid was a seaworthy ship mostly due it's skilled crew. When the captain attended other bussinesses, first mate Kolben was in charge. Bosun Hröngvid watched after the benefits of the crew, while old geezer Fisheye was at the lookout. As the crew functioned like a machine, there was little for our expedition members to do than plan for the future moves.
While Posco was gazing the ice-blue sea, Lord Haldurssens personal guard Gorim came to talk to him. It was clear that the only real flaw that this northern warrior really had was his constant urge for nonsense chit-chat. There talking, the pair spotted a bird flying around the mast, and Posco decided to drop it with his crossbow. Bulls-eye! But the triumphant shot took a grim turn as the crew started to curse for their fate, as the bird they shot was indeed a black albatross. It was generally considered as a ill omen, and killing one was a sincere death wish. Captain Saltskin himself was needed to spare the two from a vicious mugging, but the grudge kept living on.

Later that night, Posco was confronted while taking a leak. Brondir, a cautious crew-member had decided to settle the problem with his own knife. Three stabs-to-the-neck later Posco flushed Brondirs corpse down the ships head. Only possible witness for this self-defense turned to murder was Fisheye, but he was fast asleep in his lookout, so Posco decided to keep it all to himself. Brondir was longed the day after, but he was soon considered as drowned by accident.

Days passed by slowly. As they sailed further to the north, the coastline became more and more forlorn. As the climate shifted towards winters grip, Konrad Haldurssen decided to stay below the deck, where he was accompanied by Valkurs priestress Abigail Bousson. The two northerners Onarr and Gorim werein good terms with the crew, meanwhile Thyngall Pedersen stayed mainly by himself. Hornbori  had a long history as a sailor so he took part of daily dues with the crew. Faerhar Bogomoloff  befriended with another sturdy bearded fellow, Bolwyn. Nespil Crowgale hanged out with his old mercenary comradew Artyom, as old man Enoch Crowgale studied his maps and notes. Posco socialized with everyone, as the halflings often do, unlike Thelon whose presence was shunned by most men, except his old mates. But nobody wanted to talk to the half-orc, and the one who wanted the least was the orc himself, Orgots mind had been shattered by the grievous defeat by the Hellmaker and he was still struggling to reason this.

That night a great flock of glowing medusas illuminated the ship that steered trough the dark waters. An eerie sight was destinied to take more lethal turn as an aberration approached from the depths. The beast was known as Uchool by the marines, a slime-condensed crustacean with a paralyzing touch to life. It's corroding slime did terrible burns to few crewmembers, but together the heroes succeeded to fend the aberration off.

This was just the beginning of the all the bad luck that was going to be poured over them. When the ship had been at sea for a week, a fog entwined the vessel. Steering blind, it was only a matter of time that something happened. An small iceberg collided to ships keel, making a breach to the hull. With the aid of our heroes, the hole was mended shut and sailor Frode, who was injured badly, was saved. But there was no end for the mist. Two days already in the freezing curtain had turned the ship into a frosty ghost galleon.

22nd of Flamerule and the mist finally pulled back, only to reveal how bad the situation had actually gone. Virgin Ingrid was stuck between floes. Saltskin pondered the situation and came to a conclusion that the ship could be freed, but it would require a combined effort of everyone aboard. Picks and shovels in their hand, the crew and the expedition descended on to the ice raft and begun chopping the ice. Thyngal Pederesen and a shipmate Geirfast took a leave with captains permission, as a group of seals was spotted nearby. At dusk people realized that the two hunters had not come back and thus our heroes promised to go and take a look for the missing men. They managed to climb on the top of a nearest snowhill only to find  fatally injured Pedersen. Without divine magic, Thyngall would have been dead meat, but now life was restored in his thawed veins. He spoke about a monster that sprung from the ice, ripped Geirfast apart and wounded him with it's terrible claw. Thyngall was obviously struck with fear. But for Geirfasts soul, our band decided to push on. Following Thyngalls blood trail, they soon got to the scene of assault. Nearby, an entrance to a ice-cavern was discovered

Ice Troll

The cavern was vast. In fact, so vast that it hold an age old shipwreck inside. The path was clear to the wreck, as the beast had obviously had no intention of hiding the trail of gore that was left behind from poor Geirfast. Inside the old hull our adventurers finally found what they were searching for, a big troll with a ice-blue hide, enjoying it's human meal. Confronting the powerful creature with an ability to rend a man into pieces, was tricky, but with Bolwyns expertise defense techniques against giants like this, the heroes were able to battle against it with relative ease. It tried to out-maneuver them, but justice was dealt nevertheless. While catching their breath, a opportunity was taken to loot the old shipwreck, and they did indeed find some plunder.

When ascending from the caverns, they realized to be stranded by night and snowfall, that had all the manners of oncoming blizzard. Pushing their luck, the team decided to penetrate the night, even tough captain Saltskin had warned them about the night on a iceraft. Soon they were completely engulfed by the chilling darkness.

Frost Hag - Marzanna

From the snowfall a menace erupted. With a magic hail of ice and snow a creature attacked the party, numbing the men with it's cold magic. After a short moment of confusion, the attacker was identified as some sort of a witch or hag, that manipulated  the elements of winter with it's dread spells. It's mere gaze infused our heroes with terror, and it's horrific claws shred armor padding like a cleaver cuts meat. The Marzanna, as the sailors later identified the hag to be, struck down our mercenary champions one after another. Without the aid of an another search party led by Captain Saltskin himself, the four heroes would have been frozen to death by the winter-hag. As they finally regained their consciousness by the help and aid of Saltskins crew, it seemed that poor Orgot had taken the greatest punishment, once again.

The ship was finally freed from it's icy shackles a day after the battle. the others recovered quite well, even badly mutilated Thyngall Pedersen showed signs of recovery, but Orgot had been struck down once and for all. The half-orc cleric did some serious self-examination somewhere in the cargo-hold, before he finally returned to the deck. He recovered, but the wound would never fully heal.

The ship was finally inbound to it's destination. They sailed north along the Cold Run, steep and icy cliff that separated the Icewind Dale from the Sea of Moving Ice. As the river delta of Shaengarne was seen, crew sighed in relief, as the most perilous phase of their journey was presumable behind. Saltskin himself steered the ship through it, letting the cold breeze from the sea push Virgin Ingrid upriver.

Stranded by ice - Never again!

Cold Run's cliffs rose as high as the ships mast and the relief soon changed back to anxiety. Suspension was increasing exponentially, when like a flash in a night sky, a volley of arrows flew towards the vessel. Many took hits, especially Fisheye at the lookout. Following the sudden volley, fierce barbarian men assaulted the ship, jumping from the cracks and faults of the cliffside. The quiet waiting had turned into high-scale carnage. Men were struck down, impaled by keen arrows, cast overboard. But our heroes were trained to withstand even a attack of two dozen barbarian raiders, so eventually the scale shifted back to the sailors. Also, an unexpected aid arrived as someone smote and rushed the archers from atop the cliff. As the battle ceased, five dwarves , who had slain the archers, descended down to the ships deck.

The small troupe was known as the Ironwatch, elite soldiers, trained in guerrilla manner. The officer in charge, Burthon Steelshirt saluted the ships crew, but within the same sentence he told the captain that the ship was thus commandeered by the right of Ironwatch of the Ironmaster. Captain had his objections but turning against these five battle-machines would have certainly come with such a cost that it just wasn't worth the risk. So did Burthon Steelshirt steer Virgin Ingrid up the stream, all the way to their dwarven citadel, the Ironmaster. Enoch Crowgale knew some of the legends surrounding the colossal burrow, but he had not foreseen how it had spanned across the river, forming something like a steel barrage where no ship would sail without paying a toll.

Citadel Ironmaster

Such was the gargantuan scale of the fortress, that the ship was steered into a giant hangar, where hundreds of dwarven soldiers were waiting. When the ship was attached into a peer, a delegate marched in. Dwarf known as the First Master invited some of the more prominent individuals to attend a meeting deep within the fortress, and as our fellowship had no intentions to resist, they followed the dwarves. A counsil of six Masters greeted the captain and the expedition. They informed that due certain policies, a toll must be paid before the ship can pass the barrage. And as the ship was carrying cargo of zero value, a favors of some other sort must be made. The council asked, or frankly speaking, ordered the heroes to perform a small task to ensure the ships allowance to pass.

First Master explained that the citadel was led by  Grandmaster Thadaragin. But the Grandmaster had grown old, and after he turned 500 years, he became almost a like a mummy. And the council believes that this is due that he is missing one of the four artifacts, forged by his great-great-grandfather, the original Ironmaster. The item in question was a platinum beard-buckle, that was buried in mistake to Grandmasters fathers tomb. And now the council ask politely for the heroes to retrieve it in most delicate manner, as it is forbidden for the dwarves living in the citadel to enter into the tombs of the old Grandmasters. Our mercenaries thought the plan was ridiculous but agreed to perform it nevertheless. Armed only with crowbars and torches, as the dwarves had confiscated and forbidden their usual weapons

The catacombic dungeons were an unhallowed site at least. Bolwyn had tremendous difficulties perform the task in hand, due his own dwarven lineage, and what they were up to, was certainly an heinous act indeed. After hall after hall of dwarven statues and reliquary, they finally saw mithral doors that opened into the the Chamber of the Grandmasters. A murky hall with tomb entrances on it's sides, had a great iron statue depicting the original Ironmaster. But something else was there too. A bunch of vile subterranean dwellers were chopping pieces of metal off of the statue. As our heroes confronted them, the creatures charged against them. Someone later identified the beings as Derro, a mutated dwarven subrace dwelling deep within the Underdark, tormented by madness. The derro had dug themselves into one of the tombs, where they had spotted the iron statue in the main hall, but whatever were their intentions, everyone was struck down, except for a single individual that was carried for the dwarves for questioning. The platinum buckle was also recovered from the old grandmasters tomb, although it was protected with vicious traps.

The Council of Six Masters was glad for the recovery and they were convinced that this would help them the regain touch with the old grandmaster. But the expedition would not see this happen, as they were quickly escorted back to their ship, that was granted a permit to pass the barrage. The visit at the Ironmaster was probably one of the most efficient ever.

Virgin Ingrid was back in line, and Saltskin calculated that they would reach the port of Targos in two days. Such was the merry mood for the rest of the voyage, that they even picked up two peasant fishermen along the way. Mathias and Ingred were their names and they were first to introduce the northern moonshine called Vyrymborouh to our heroes.

As the journey was almost over, Orgots depression peaked. During a stormy night he climbed into the mast in order to contact his deity Talos. He spoke every single chant he knew, trying to call forth his god to answer him. He was certain that the thundergod would strike him down instantly, and thus release him from the misery, but instead the wicked stormlord sent it's harbinger instead. From the clouds a elemental of pure storm nature descended, raining lighting and terror upon the ship. A bolt struck Orgot, thrusting him down to the deck. As the others joined in to the battle, Orgot knew that his god had not abandoned him. Defeating the storm elemental was quite a task, resulting even in some deaths of the crewmembers. Despite the general state of misery, the ship reached it's destination. Dockworkers at the Targosian harbor were amazed how a ship of such size and condition had managed to come up to the lake Maer Dauldon.

As the sailors prized the firm land under their feet maybe more than ever before, many within the expedition had certain doubts about the upcoming journey. 
If the prequel had already been such a chain of disasters, how would they ever survive the full adventure.  

And the journey continues...

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

Session was held 25th of May at the Skyhouse of Slumber

Fifth of Flamerule. We're once again stationed at the Seven Sails Inn. I do not overstate that is truly a miracle that we're still here. Our operation for saving Captain Agmuind Saltskin from the bowels of Underkeel took a direct hit, as a group of scaly gate-guards assaulted our backs. Never have likes of those creatures walked on the golden sands of Evermeet, my gratitude for the Lords for that! Luckily our companionship proved to be more hard-woven than the scaly hides of those lurking swamp beasts. Nevertheless, we were blown out from fatigue and injuries, and pushing deeper into the rectory of evil seemed like a suicide. So we reverted, a decision that brought us shame.

"Yeah, we're alright!"

 Now as I am writing this from the warmth of my bed, I am confident that next morning will be ours, and Captain Saltskin will be freed. On the wider scale, I suspect that our leave for the Expedition will be near. Enoch Crowgale has pushed his preparations and he's almost done. As long as we have a proven captain to sail us to the shores of the Icewind Dale. I believe that the journey will be unforgettable. I also believe in Posco, but I must question Bolwyns motives, as I do question the orc, whose name I refuse to utter. My dear brother would never endorsed such a company. And what comes to my search.. I am still alone.
-Thelon

Return to the Source

As the dawn broke from the shackles of mother night, our adventurers ate a quick fix of nourishing breakfast, and headed back to the forgotten sewers of Luskan. As the chance to save Saltskins life grew weaker by every passing hour, the fellows proceeded with haste. Quick descend through the reeking tunnels of decay brought them back to the gates of Underkeel. The door that  was guarded by vicious lizardmen a day before, now supported new guardsmen. Three human scoundrels now manned the post and while doing so they were cleaning up the deceased scalykind, throwing the corpses to the same filthy current from where they launched their surprise assault on our braves. A goblin named Shadlarg was giving them orders, a queer choice to be a lieutenant in Hellmakers private army.

Shadlarg - Barghest

Our rescuers proceeded to storm the gate, again. This time Posco opened the fire with his keen crossbow, wounding the scoundrels with several volleys of sharp halfling-sized toothpicks that they call crossbow bolts. In the mean time, the rest charged on the gateguards, swords blazing. As suspected, the goblin had a reason to hold the rank of a lieutenant, as it shapeshifted into the form a giant wolf. It was a creature called Barghest. And it was quickly killed.

With Shadlargs key, the sturdy iron door into Hellmakers underground lair was easily opened. Our heroes raided few chambers, beating down Hellmakers bouncers and his another officer, Regortass Blackscale, a huge black scaled man-lizard. Finally they stroke down a door that lead into inner chambers. There, at the edge of a great chasm, a group of prisoners was held. To free them, our saviors had to battle with two entities of malevolent, god-hating evil. These gargoyle-like creatures are known as Kir-Lanan originating from some outer plane of existence, brought to the face of Toril by the Time of Troubles. Their powerful connection to negative energy proved challenging, but the steel of the blades didn't mind, it ate their flesh just as eagerly. With the monsters smit down, the heroes checked the condition of the prisoners. Most of them were dead or dying, but one persistent prick of a captain was still breathing. Although he was alive, he was clinging at the end. Happy to see familiar faces, Captain Saltskin thanked our heroes and swore that he would keep the fees for the upcoming voyage at minimum.

 - Hellmaker -
Artists impression from
Poscos vague remembrance

Saltskin was left to regain some of his vitality for the return through the tunnels as our braves decided to open the last and the most menacing door at the Underkeel. As the heavy iron door swung open, they saw a powerful looking "man" sitting by a table, back towards them. The man was painting some dark and devious painting on a canvas that might as well be one made of human skin. With a deep voice from the Abyss, the thing spoke:

”Do you, or do you not, wish to slay me? Well, will you, or will you not force me to lift my flail? Do you even know, WHO exactly calls me the Hellmaker? The Sinners, the sinners call me Hellmaker. And that is for I am an Angel of Retribution. And by the Right of my lord, Asmodeus, I will smite you down!

And after a ponderous monologue, the demon-spawn launched a devastating attack upon our braves. It swung its heavy flail, crushing the bone and sinew of everything that tried to make a stand against it. The Hellmaker proved to be worth of its name. Crushing Thelon, mangling Bolwyn and decimating Orgot, only Posco managed to escape from sure doom. Wounded captain Saltskin by his side, they ascended back to Luskans streets, grieving for the terrible outcome of the supposed-to-be triumph.

At the Seven Sails Inn, Posco wept for his fallen comrades, as did Agmuind Saltskin, although he was still glad to be among the living. The small halfling drowned his sorrow into a jug of beer, as fell into nightmare infested slumber. Hours later, Posco woke up as he heard screams from the streets. He followed the innkeeper and several patrons to the streets to investigate the source of this cry that was filled with terror. There, hanging head down from a top beams of a nearby house, was the rest of the adventurers. As they

were lowered, the rescuers saw that Bolwyn and Thelon were both grievously injured , but Orgot had sustained an injury with far more serious consequences. His will had been shattered. As the rest regained their strength and vigor back in a week or two, Orgot never became the same wretch of an orc again. To top this, they all had a text "Hellmaker" carved to their chests.

There was no apparent reason why Hellmaker had spared their lives, except to show his power over life and death. And also now he had three walking signs of his victory.

Preparations

Next week was full of errands for the upcoming expedition. Dwarven merchant Jando Karakas was the one to deliver all the items and equipment, rations and supplies for the voyage, and a long hours were spent planning for the delivery lists. By the initiative of Enoch Crowgale, the expedition members also met each other for the first time. And here is the full list of men who boarded Saltskins ship and headed to north to search for glory:

• Enoch Crowgale - The Expedition Leader, scribe and mastermind.
• Konrad Haldurssen - the financer, according to his own words, wishes to experience adventure one more time.
• Nespil Crowgale - Head of Security
• Artyom - Mercenary muscle from the Red Dogs
• Gorim - Haldurssens personal bodyguard
• Onarr - Also Haldurssens man, able smith too.
• Thyngall Pedersen - Tracker/ranger, head of navigation
• Hornbori - Paid muscle
• Faerhar Bogomoloff - Beast of burden and a workman
• Abigail Bousson - Priestess of Valkur that Haldurssen personally requested to take part.

And of course our heroes, Bolwyn, Thelon, Orgot and Posco who were hired by Crowgale to provide muscle, security, dirty jobs and general adventuring. This group of fourteen was to defy the dangers of the uncharted north. 

Few days later our laborers paid a visit to the office of merchant Jando. Final arrangements for the delivery were agreed upon and while they were idle, Karakas offered a small task at the wharves. His warehouse number four had been apparently overrun by "ghosts" or so the dockers and teamsters say. As they had nothing better in their hands, the adventurers promised to investigate this dilemma. Jando hinted that the dockworkers had been spending awful a lot of time at the Cutlass recently.  

Above mentioned group of slackers were at the Cutlass as Karakas had foretold. They were reluctant to come with the heroes but one of them finally gave up and agreed to show them the fourth warehouse. The wharves were a gloomy place even during a day, and the perimeter around the warehouse in question was exceptionally bad. The dockworker refused to go nearer so the lads had to continue alone for the door. But an eerie and ghastly sound interrupted them. This wailing seemed to originate from a nearby crate, and inside this wooden hideout, a small wretch of a man was found. The little thug sobbed that his boss, Mantor had forced him to mimic ghosts and spooks to scare off unwanted visitors.

Encouraged by this earthly explanation for ghostly sounds, they stormed in and found out that gang of

Artists careful demonstration how two bears, uniting their strenght
could easily best a damsel (who now on is in serious distress) 

criminals had turned the building into a animal cage fight center. At the time being, there were two ferocious bears battling against each other, with two dozen men cheering and placing bets outside the cage. Mantor, the organizer and kingpin behind the show tried his best to fend off the intruders, but ended up being eaten alive by his own pet-ursidae, and boy did those two battle bears feast on his meat. The warehouse was quickly purified from gamblers and hostile animals, although those two bears were dangerous to calm.

Jando Karakas was glad that the issue with the warehouse was solved once and for all, and promised a small surprise bonus among the goods he was to deliver for Saltskins ship later during the passing week. And so the time passed and finally the day of departure arrived. Luskan bathed in the light of dawn as last crates, barrels and sacks of supplies were hauled into the cargo hold of the Virgin Ingrid, Captain Saltskins trusty ship.

Few numbered group of family and relatives were waving their goodbyes to the sailors and expedition members, sobbing farewells as everyone knew that death was waiting for some, if not everyone, and the hope for loved ones safe return was thin at best. It was 12th of Flamerule, when Virgin Ingrid departed from the relative safety of Luskans harbor. All the necessary preparations were done, and the men let their lives in the hands of their faith or fate. As the seagulls sung their farewells, the ship float to the open.

Even captain Saltskin doubted on what he had agreed upon
There was not a single soul that didn't have a seed of doubt in it, because from now on, they all would be on a collision course with the unknown, whatever it would be. 

Their destinies were out there, where even the gods wouldn't serve as witnesses. 

To the North - teaser

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 Two: Fearmonger and the Red Dog

Session was held 29th of December at the Penthouse of Pain

"Hot steaming sulphurous depths under the frozen dome. And I tell you, there was fertile green!"
- Mordgóin Gemgrinder, expedition leader

Nespil Crowgale

They had just laid their feet upon the Luskanese soil when a brawl broke out between our brave mercenaries and a band of thugs known as the Amazing Luskan Lads. These lads were easy to defeat but their leader, Windmill Hágo, knocked the wind out of Thelon. After gathering their earthly belongings and reviving Thelon, our party stepped forth towards the Luskanese streets.

Old man Crowgale asked our hired blades to escort him to his apartment, where he would ensue furious study of Valgaerd Whitefarers logbook. But something was not right as they arrived to the house. A unknown man of familiar stature had taken the initiative to make himself comfortable at Enochs place. Our bloodhounds readied themselves for fight but the situation came to nothing as Enoch slapped the man into order. An exact copy of his more book-oriented father, the man was Nespil Crowgale. He had finished his current campaign among the ranks of a mercenary company and was enjoying well deserved downtime.

Brothel grappling at its finest, our heroes had nothing to do with it.

Elder Crowgale was left to his ponderous books as Nespil and the gang agreed to go for few pints. He recommended the lads to visit his company, the Red Dog Mercenary Company, as he finds the service for Commander Klemens Greybeard a suitable way for our heroes to gain renown, wealth and power. Our braves agreed to pay a visit to companys garrison at some point, but for now they focused on booze. One led to dozen, and suddenly they were following Nespil to some shady alleys under the Reavers Run, a street that separates the bad parts of Luskan from the really horrific part. Nespils pace introduced them to a brothel where fleshly delights were for grabs. Many of our hunks turned down the offers, but master Posco chose a pretty halfling lass to his side for the night, as did Nespil. The rest of the group was quickly thrown out from the brothel, as such virtuous homosexuals possess no benefit to a enterprise of that trade.

Red Dog Mercenary Company herald

Oh the dew and the first rays of the sun, morning came with a hangover. After few breathers the four were on the move again, this time for the mercenary company. It was located near the South Gate and officer called Remyl Tiberin received them. Few soldiers were practicing at the closed courtyard as our heroes waited for commander Greybeard to attend their business. With the commanders side arrived a huge red dog that had more in common with wolves than ordinary canines, and at some point Bolwyn was sure the dog was whispering to Klemens Greybeard. Nevertheless, it was quickly agreed that our four men would perform few missions for the company, for a good pay of course. Half-elf crossbowman Artyom was ordered to gather a recon party for the Great Ice Lakes in the north, and our mercenary heroes would be part of them. Artyom emphasizes the importance of a light package for the reconnaissance mission.

Rest of the day was spared for general armament, as the team had few coins put aside from the Icepeak adventure. Red Dragon Trading Company at the Mirabar district in the northern Luskan offered good selection of mundane arms and equipment, but for something little bit special our heroes had to follow a different route. A mage of the Arcane Brotherhood sold a mercantile permit for them to use at the Arcane Host tower, if they would like to purchase magical equipment. This was one of the few not so subtle signs that the Arcane Brotherhood controlled the city with an iron fist.

The Horde

Time flew and the new dawn came. Everybody was ready at the Red Dog company. Artyom introduced the helping hands of their mission, half-orc ranger Greenbeard and his two blades and "Chest" Lundolph von Yegor, rich lesser noble in his platemail. As the gates opened, the small band headed north with great haste. Reports from the northern rangers indicated that something was happening at the Ice Lakes, and few small villages had already been sacked with their denizens nowhere to be seen. Artyom had planned their way to the village of Claysheaf where they could obtain more information about the current situation.

King of Waterdeep

But no feet travel the speed of a hoof, so our scouts had to set for a night in a roadside inn called Heaven of Wilderness. The innkeeper Grikoris welcomed them to his quiet inn, where few patrons were changing yesterdays news. The stale air of the inn was soon disrupted by a man known as the Raven. He sat, drank and answered to an old man who asked about his inquires, and then left. Dazed geezer replied the mans sentence "The northwind shall harvest the yield, the rest are left for death". Many were shocked and the patrons left the inn quietly, and Grikoris explained that the Raven was notorious for speaking with few words, but those few predicted always what was upcoming, and thus the patrons were scared away by this ill divination.

New day and new adventures awaited. After half days travel on the old mercantile road, a group of dwarven merchants came upon our adventurers. One of the stunties was lying badly wounded inside their wagon, and the rest explained that poor bastard had taken a hit from the lance of the King of Waterdeep. Artyom identifies the name as a mad man who has been ravaging the northern countrysides for years now. The dwarves were given a promise that the lunatic would be slain if met. Well, it didn't take long before our heroes had to live up to their words. A knight in tattered outfit charged the party with mount and lance, striking with devastating force. He had a withered old man as a follower, who shouted "kneel before the king" as they plunged against our mercenaries blades. And thus they plunged to their deaths.

Rest of the days journey went without further encounters and the party rested well. Artyoms swift feet guided them towards the village of Claysheaf and by the mid-day they reached it. But the village was already ravaged and its denizens were gone. Nothing was burned nor looted but six corpses lied at the village central. They were strong men but there they lied beheaded in the mud. After quick search and investigation, a reason for villages ill-fate was found, and some barbaric slavers were the main suspect. Fortunately, a strong set of tracks led towards north and our scouting party engaged a pursuit in hopes for rescuing the rest of the villagers.

Fourth day of their adventure to the Ice Lakes begun with sad news. The corpses of a woman and her child were found on the trail, a grim remainder of the distress that the villagers were in. Greenbeard the ranger guided our pursuiters to a willow thicket, that camouflaged their advancement. Soon they reached a covered hilltop, from where they saw to a narrow pass, with a opening of a chasm in the other end of it. Three men clad in red&black military garments were guarding the chasm, with their apparent officer currently paying a visit to their position. Closer examination revealed that these men were actually hobgoblins, cruel humanoids of military breed. Our braves overheard their discussion where the officer reminded the guards that commander was on his way to take the prisoners to the enclave. As the officer and its men left the guards, our scouts decided to make their move. Arrows and bolts were shot, and a quick charge struck the surviving guardsmen down. Then our mercenaries decided to charge the chasm, and they reached a safe opening to one of the ice lakes. The open cove had some makeshift prisoncages in it where the villagers were held. Bunch of hobgoblins that were to guard the prisoners were soon struck down and the prisoners were freed.

Chest Lundolph taking a hit to abdomen

The mercenaries decided to leave the cove as soon as possible and as they proceed with caution, a trap was set against them as they tried to leave through the rift. This entity known as the Commander had arrived with its troops, and they scorched the chasms opening with firebombs. Our braves had no choice than charge through the fires and face the horde of more than a dozen hobgoblins and their bugbear Commander. The bloodlusting bastards shouted "Kongrike ov Hvítrfjell", a  menacing motto that caught Bolwyns ear. Luck was on our heroes side as Thelons sword found a opening in Commanders guard, and he struck down the beast with a single hit. Rest of the hobgoblins were slain and driven away with ease, as their ranks broke.

The heading was set to the village as our scouts escorted the surviving villagers back home. As they later arrived to Claysheaf, the village elder Isólf expressed their gratitude for saving them. Our scouts set their destination back to Luskan as Artyom felt that it was rather urgent to report from their findings. He was quite sure that a horde of some sort was gathering at the Ice Lakes and they were amassing slaves to this Enclave that the officer had mentioned. Quick march back was a strenuous one, but they made it in record time.

Lord Konrad Haldurssen

Back at the Red Dog Mercenary Company, Greybeard was intrigued by their intelligence and he was sure that they would launch a campaign of some sort to take down the enclave, in not so distant future. Before retiring for pints and good sleep, our brave lads decided to pay a visit to Enoch to see if he had discovered something. As they arrived to Crowgales apartment, old rich looking man and he's bodyguard left the building. Crowgale waved them inside and explained that old man to be Lord Konrad Haldurssen, the patron of their upcoming expedition. And yes, Enoch revealed that he had discovered yet even more than he ever dared to hope for...

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!