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...

Narratives of the Cold Waste - Part III

Staircases of this shape have been
 known to inspire insanity.

The staircase seemed like it would continue forever. Thelon took steps after another as he walked upwards the stairs of the Dwarven cylinder in the depths of the Underdark. Even though the walk was exhausting it somehow felt as a break.

The expedition had just battled against a group of terrible beings with tentacles growing from their faces. Those creatures had struck Thelon down with some kind of spell like powers. That feeling brought back memories from ten years ago. Memories of adrenaline in his veins, sword in his hand and then... magic hitting him, striking him down and finally... darkness.

A step. And another step. The staircase went on and on. Every step was taking them towards their destination, but Thelon couldn't help shake the feeling, that each of those steps was also taking him away from his personal destination. The elf had thought that the two tracks were the same and he would find what he was searching for at the end of the path. But as they moved forward and each obstacle they faced seemed to tell them the same story, that they were the first ones here, he felt unsure.

Finally they reached the end of the staircase and found a hatch surrounded by ice. Thelon could almost feel the the breeze of the winter air. He was eager to get out of the tunnels and leave his dark thoughts behind. He had a feeling that once outside he'd have a nice moment of rest.