Post by Bandgoat on Dec 4, 2015 14:00:02 GMT -6
Arodus 7, 4708 – Late Afternoon
Illya,
Since returning to Jorgenfist from our sojourn into Runeforge, we have spent the last ten days poring through the ancient tomes we found in that place of arcane research. I believe we spent the time well, adding spells to our knowledge, upgrading our equipment using the Arcane Anvil, and allowing Tolgun some much-needed time to practice his battle prowess (or lack thereof).
We managed to come away from Runeforge with a great amount of swag and have spent some time identifying, cataloging, and appraising it all. Now that we have had some time to recuperate, we plan to travel to Magnimar in the morning to sell what we can and replenish our supplies before we continue our plan to thwart Karzoug in his home territory.
- E
Arodus 9, 4708 – Early Evening
Illya,
The sights, sounds, and ... smells of this city are startling. I have only been here a few hours and already I feel overstimulated. It will take me some time to get used to this place, but it looks like I will have that opportunity. I believe we will be staying in Absalom for quite some time.
As we planned, yesterday we traveled to Magnimar in search of goods. However, we quickly reached the limit the merchants there could pay us for our loot we appropriated from Runeforge. The shopkeepers ran out of coin and we would have to wait for quite sometime before we could sell off everything we did not need. Instead, we decided to travel to Absalom, the City at the Center of the World, in search of more lucrative bargains. Soril bought a magical scroll that could whisk us away to that far away metropolis if he but focused on a descriptive image of the place. Since all school children are taught to recognize the tiled domes and marble spires of the Starstone Cathedral, that is where we arrived this morning – outside the bridges leading toward the holiest place on Golarion. The Elven schoolbooks do not do it justice. It was such a magnificent sight to behold! Any words I could write about it here would be unequal to the task. They should have sent a bard. However, the luster of the moment quickly faded as the enormous din of thousands upon thousands of people going about their urban lives flooded my senses. I do not see how anyone can stand so much unnatural noise in their daily lives.
Absalom is huge. Its markets seem to stretch on forever. We had no trouble selling what we had, but that many artifacts being exchanged for so much coin drew quite a bit of attention. People were naturally curious about our adventures and how handsomely they rewarded us. It was difficult to communicate the significance and burden of our quest while dealing with the richness and rewards that came with it.
With the wealth we accrued, we were able to buy new equipment and commission upgrades for our existing arms and armor. However, it will be some time before all our provisions are ready. I only hope Karzoug’s armies remain locked in his mountain fortress during that time.
- E
Arodus 20, 4708 – Late Evening
Illya,
While we continue to wait for the upgrades to our equipment, our arrival in Absalom seems to have coincided with the annual Armasse festival. As the newest of the more prominent adventuring parties to arrive in the city, we were asked to aid in the rite of training the citizenry in the art of combat. I was more than happy to oblige, using my experience from teaching at the Mierani Arcane War School. We also delighted the crowds in retelling some of our adventures from the past year. The people really liked the parts about dragons.
Our stories also attracted the attentions of certain groups of people interested in ancient artifacts, notably the Pathfinders. One of them was none other than Cevil “Redwing” Charms, who wrote the definitive book on Thassilon and with whom Brodert Quink had some dealings. We were happy to discuss what we learned with him. Redwing is an older gentleman who adventured several decades ago. He reiterated his story about the Dwarven brothers who were prospecting in the Kodar Mountains and stumbled upon the pathway to a city filled with ridiculously fabulous wealth. He brought out a map of Varisia and showed us the location of the Kazaron River, the headwaters of which are located in the High Kodars. The Dwarvan prospectors had traveled up the Kazaron, past an ice marsh, and up into an area where there were many strange effects - it was described to us as an area where the boundary between planes was thin. The brothers returned with little loot, because they had been driven off by giant creatures that lived in the destroyed city, but the coins they held matched descriptions of coins found throughout Varisia that date back to Thassilonian times. The brothers then got some corporate backers and returned to the Kodars with a group of Dwarves to set up at their old base camp to start excavation efforts. This was about 80 years ago and no one has ever returned from that venture. Mr. Charms suggested that the Kazaron River might be the fabled river Avah that flowed from Xin-Shalast.
Gorm and Tolgun got into the “spirit” of the Armasse festival by drinking every night until one of them fell buns-over-braincase into a drunken stupor.
I still have not gotten used to this place. I long for the peace and quiet of a more remote setting. However, there are plenty of places for Lai’Ki and me to explore and many things to do to keep us busy while we wait. The long summer days seem to pass quickly enough. I am beginning to worry about Soril, though. He seems to spend most of his time in his room preparing scrolls. I fear he is not getting the full benefits of this respite from action.
- E
Arodus 29, 4708 – Early Evening
Illya,
We are finally ready to proceed with our quest. All of our gear has been prepared, substantially increasing our survivability, and we have met back up to plan our next steps. Ryll had spent the last few days in meditative seclusion, so it was good to see her radiant face again. I just realized that this was the first day since arriving in Absalom that I had seen Nala. He said very little but seemed very curious about the Starstone Cathedral. I wonder what he has been doing these past few weeks. Tolgun, Gorm, and Soril popped off to the Dwarven city of Janderhoff for a day or two to ask about the Dwarf brothers Vekker, but they did not find out anything additional of much use other than confirming the story of Redwing Charms.
I believe our first order of businesss is to visit Sandpoint in the morning, just to make sure there have been no more developments with those good people. Then we will try to retrace the route of the Vekker brothers into the distant and inhospitable Kodar Mountains. The journey will not be an easy one, but I believe we are now prepared to face the challenges that await us.
- E
P.S. – I believe Tolgun must have lost some drunken bet and had some magical enhancement cast upon him because he is now several feet taller than I am. A tasteful tattoo would have been more useful.
Arodus 30, 4708 – Early Evening
Illya,
Upon our return to Sandpoint, we were instantly hailed as returning heroes. They called off all activities for the day to throw a big feast in our honor featuring copious amounts of crab meat, since it was in season. The sinkhole in the middle of town has been marked off with a wooden railing. Word of the Thassilonian ruins below the town has gotten back to Brodert Quink in Jorgenfist, who has taken charge of its excavation in absentia. Several groups from Magnimar and Korvosa have traveled here to aid in the activities, bringing a much needed financial windfall to the town. They have also begun a large series of statues of us all, to stand near your memorial statue near the Old Light. Ryll took what money she had left over and made a sizable donation to the local temple.
- E
Rova 5, 4708 – Early Evening
Illya,
The weather grows cold, even this early in the season. Thankfully, we were prepared for such an eventuality.
After a day feasting in Sandpoint, Soril transported us to Turtleback Ferry in central Varisia. From there, he summoned some magical mounts to ride around the Storval Deep until we came to the Kazaron River. We have ridden along the river for several days now and the mountains around us are unlike anything we have ever seen before. To say the terrain is rugged would be an understatement. The vegetation is sparse, but we are well-provisioned. The plateau continues to rise in elevation as the snow caps drape longer upon the nearest peaks.
I feel much more at home here in the wilderness than in the hustle and bustle of the city. Yet, my heart is filled with a strange sense of foreboding. What lies before us is still a mystery
- E
Rova 13, 4708 – Late Evening
Illya,
The last few days have been sickeningly unsettling. There are things in this world – spirits from the Great Beyond that are more terrifying to me than a horde of orc slavers. I have come through this latest ordeal wiser but no more confident in my abilities to face the unseen.
After about two weeks of travel on horseback, we came to a point along the river basin where Lai’Ki spotted some rather large, unidentifiable tracks. We continued more cautiously. As we did so, we came upon a cleft of rock on the opposite side of the now-narrow river and something caught our eyes. We found a number of discarded artifacts: small picks of Dwarven make and several other items common to a labor camp. There was evidence of a long-abandoned fire pit, too. We found no bodily remains, but we surmised that some Dwarves from the Five Kingdoms had camped here for at least a few days in the past. We knew we were getting closer to our objective.
As we continued up the river, the weather finally began to worsen, growing colder as we climbed in elevation and the occasional snow flurry leaving a white dusting on the ground. A day later, we found an area where the river had carved out a canyon. Again, along the opposite side of the river, we spied a split log cabin with a long shaft coming down the side of the cliff into a small shack not far from the river edge. Apparent that it was a humanoid-made structure, we decided to check it out. We forded the cold shallow river and edged closer to the shack at the bottom of the canyon. The ground was rocky with some snow and ice scattered on the ground. As we approached, a mysterious howl was heard coming from far off on the wind. It resembled the sound of a wild animal, probably an elk, but Lai’Ki thought it sounded wounded and that there was an otherworldly, supernatural component to the sound. The Dwarves in our group did not hear it. We dismounted and began to investigate. Nothing seemed out of place except perhaps an old, almost-dead looking tree, like a bristlecone pine. There were a couple of doors into the small structure on the canyon floor. A split-log tower abutted the cliff face and rose from what appeared to be a workshop on the ground level to a larger cabin perched on the cliff’s edge many feet above. The rough wooden structure was so overgrown with lichen as to appear an extension of the rock face. The ground around the lower structure was a steep embankment over which a chute protruded from the structure’s southern wall. At the base of the embankment sat a large pile of fine black sand that spread out in deposits striated by years of erosion. The ground surrounding the pile was barren of any plant life with the exception of that single sagging pine tree. Faint traces of a footpath led to the workhouse doors, though it was obvious none had come this way in years. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades.
As I neared the tree, it suddenly animated and attacked us, like some gnarled, dying treant gone mad. We attacked it with fire, which seemed to have damaged it badly. Once it caught the sight of Lai’Ki, it ignored me and went after her, presumably because she was a student of nature. It hit hard, damaging her ability to wield her bow. Ryll could apparently tell that it was some kind of undead tree creature and called out to Sarenrae for help in battling it. At some length, it was destroyed in a burning, smoldering heap. We took a brief moment to heal our wounds before moving on into the cabin.
We went to one of the doors, checked it for traps, and opened it up. The room beyond was an old store room of some sort. Within were the dusty remains of a thriving mining enterprise. The rotten remnants of wheelbarrows, shovels, picks, ore sacks, plates for panning, and other things were stacked in a jumble. All of it was covered in a thick layer of frost and had deteriorated to the point of uselessness. Gorm said they were of Dwarven make. Finding no other entrances or exits to this room, we went around to another door in the shack. It was locked, but Soril was able to magically open it. That room had a bare plank floor with a wide double door standing to the east and, next to it, a shabby curtain closed off another opening. The room’s dry boards still appeared to be stout, having been successfully sealed against the elements. Gorm threw back the curtain. Beyond was a small, barren chamber. A wood frame cot rested against the far wall with a rough straw mattress and a threadbare blanket thrown haphazardly across it. A pair of old work boots crusted with the dried remains of old mud still sat under the cot. One of the boots appeared to be magical and we found a magical punching dagger inside it.
We then opened the double doors. The air in that long-sealed chamber was absolutely putrid. The back wall was the solid rock of the cliff face. A ramp rose from the western door to a height of five feet. Mounds of dust and rocky debris cluttered the floor while rusty mechanical equipment – copper tanks and several rock crushing and chipping tools – sat upon a sagging wooden table. The handle of a shovel jutted from a debris pile immediately below the door. Two pairs of elbow-length thick gloves stained from long use hung from hooks beside the door. Gorm was the first to notice a shadowy figure crouching in the corner of the room seeming to shift and move about. The shadows faded, and a ghostly Dwarf appeared to be squatting in the corner, his back to the doors. He scooped up handfuls of gold dust from the ground near the chute. He turned toward Gorm, gold dust sticking to his beard, and said, “You! You have to try this – it is soooo delicious.” As he said this, he continued to gluttonously stuff more handfuls of gold dust into his mouth and swallow. In his own words, for a brief moment, Gorm felt the beginnings of a compulsion to take the shadowy figure’s advice and start eating the gold dust. After a moment, the figure of the dwarf suddenly shrank in upon itself, grew emaciated, and then flew apart in a red explosion of bite-sized morsels of flesh and bone. An instant later, he and all remnants were gone. This was a disturbing apparition, but no one knew exactly how to explain it. Once Gorm described the eerie scene, Tolgun and Ryll said it reminded them of their experience within Foxglove Manor.
Gorm opened the door to the next room which led to the shaft descending down the cliff wall. A sturdy-looking wooden stair and rail started at the bottom of the shaft and circled up into the heights running sunwise. Above, its passage was lost in the gloom, like the musty interior of an ancient silo. A thick length of chain hung down the shaft in loops, its links swaying and clanking softly to the periodic gust of wind that penetrated the walls. No windows pierced the wooden walls of the shaft. Propped against the east wall near the door was an upended wheelbarrow. We all started up the stairs, but when Gorm walked into the shaft, the chain animated and attacked him. Unfortunately, at the same time Lai’Ki was overcome by the image of the shadowy Dwarf and began eating handfuls of dust and debris from the floor, making herself sick. Tolgun tried to grab Lai’Ki and pull her away, but he could not get a good hold of her. Soon after, though, Gorm hit and sundered the chain, making it cease its attack. Ryll was able to restore sanity to Lai’Ki, causing her to stop eating whatever it was she consumed. I moved into the same room and, remembering the description from some esoteric tome from a time long forgotten, immediately realized it was the effect of a haunt, an undead presence that could manifest in a variety of mind-affecting ways. I looked at the floor and found that Lai’Ki was eating some sort of processed mining material. She had been poisoned. Nala told us that the processing of gold ore uses arsenic, some residue of which was probably Lai’Ki had ingested, though she told us she thought the gold dust was delicious. Tolgun was able to heal her suffering a bit and delay the effects of any more poisoning until he could heal her fully.
Gorm began walking up the stairs again. As he climbed, I noticed that the weather had begun to kick up just before I entered the shaft room, the snow flurries and wind increasing in intensity. Snow started falling rather heavily. We closed the outside doors, determined to stay here the night while the weather blew over. We went up the stairs, but near the top, Gorm stepped on a trap, causing a section of the rail to collapse outward, requiring Gorm and Tolgun to grab onto the stairs and pull themselves back up before they fell the length of the shaft. Once we reached the top, the stairs opened into a room. A heavy winch bolted to the balcony supported a broken rusty chain that ran up through a pulley mounted in the roof of the shaft and attached to a heavy iron bucket sitting on the floor. Nothing else appears in the room. We opened the door into a hallway that led to a number of other doors. One of the doors led to a room that obviously doubled as the main living quartes and kitchen for the inhabitants of the cabin. A stone hearth and chimney occupied one corner with an iron hook holding a cauldron above the grate. The rest of the room was in a horrific state. Firewood, cooking utensils, pots and pans, and even the furniture lay in scattered heaps. A painting of two dower-looking Dwarves standing in front of an enormous elk hung askew on the wall. Ancient blood stains marred the walls and floors and bits of overturned furniture here and there, but there were no bodies. Gorm, Lai’Ki, and Soril moved in to investigate, but, as they later described it, they noticed that they had horrifically unnatural hunger pangs. They were so ravenously hungry they could not think straight. Soril even felt like he was withering away, and almost became ravenously nonsensical, wanting to consume human flesh, driven to the brink of madness. He fell to the floor, cowering and whimpering. Gorm and Lai’Ki at least had sense enough to drag poor Soril out of the room and, after a few minutes, he was able to communicate that he was no longer in pain, though his mind still seemed to be affected by something.
Wanting to find some quick answers, Gorm opened another door. That chamber contained heavy shelving and held the detritus and debris accumulated over decades of habitation. This time, Ryll alone searched the room, finding all manner of odds and ends for the maintenance and upkeep of the cabin and a mining venture, all under a thick layer of dust and ancient rodent droppings. There was nothing of value. Gorm opened yet another door, revealing a large worn elk hide spread across the floor of a bunk room. Another old moth-eaten hide covered the entry into a small closet. A window, with a crack running through the thick planes of glass, looked out to the south. A set of rough-made bunk beds stood against the wall next to the door. An old coat with holes in its elbows hung from a post. The bunks themselves had flat straw mattresses and layers of heavy blankets piled at their feet. An old metal coal box rested on one for use as a foot warmer. A weapons rack to in the room held a crossbow, two axes, and a light wooden shield. Beneath it was a large leather chest while a hooded lantern hung unlit from the rafter. Again, there was nothing of any real value. The weapons and shield are warped and useless. The leather chest held only mundane articles of rough clothing, a few grooming items, and various small trinkets of Shoanti manufacture. Gorm found that one of the unoccupied pegs on the rack was actually a lever. Nala decided to pull on it. When he did, something near me near the stairs made a metallic clink. I saw the bucket on the chain release and fall down the shaft. When the noise of the falling bucket subsided, we were all left with the sound of the wind howling outside and we found ourselves in the midst of a full-blown snow storm.
What we thought was a closet turned out to be a privy with a wooden bench and an old rusty bucket. Hanging from a small hook were a number of torn papers. They appeared to be broadsheets from the city of Korvosa dated about 80 years ago. Gorm opened another door from the hallway. This door was particularly heavy and sealed against the frame, but Gorm was able to push it open. The bare-floored room had a series of iron hooks suspended from the rafters. The window in the far wall looked out over the edge of the cliff and, unlike others in the cabin, had no glass or shutters, only a tight lattice of iron bars. Against the far wall sat a four-foot tall mound of bones – Dwarven bones by the look of it. Tolgun started counting them and found the remains of only one Dwarf, but he noticed that they had been gnawed upon. He said the skeleton had a headband of Thassilonian make, which was strange considering the reports were that the Dwarves only brought back coins, no magical items. As he looked closer, he noticed that the items on the skeleton were the same as what he was wearing. It was at that point that Gorm noticed that his cousin began to thrash wildly, under the impression that whispers, grunts, and hands were grabbing at him in an attempt to devour him. Tolgun began to scream in some foul language. Bloody wounds from invisible teeth appeared across his body and Tolgun thought that he was being eaten alive by someone incredibly strong. As quickly as it all began, he came out of his crazed state and he said the voices disappeared. Once the episode was over, Tolgun saw that the bones were once again unadorned with any equipment. We started to piece together what happened in this cabin so long ago: Dwarves, gone crazy with greed and poor provisioning turn to murder and cannibalism. It sounded like a typical Dwarven venture to me, but I was far from the true cause of the haunted cabin, as it turned out.
Continuing our search of the cabin, Gorm and Tolgun went through another door that led to a rough outdoor porch with crudely crafted hand rails extending from the front of the cabin. A short stair descended to the ground at the north end. The eaves of the overhanging roof were festooned with dozens of animal skulls including deer, bear, aurochs, and various other animals. The posts supporting the overhang and the outside edge of the hand rail itself were hung with racks of antlers. A stone chimney rose next to the door on the porch and a couple of split logs had been set on the raised porch as furniture. As Gorm and Tolgun perused the porch area, out of the corners of their eyes, they thought they saw someone running toward the cabin out of the blowing snow. By the time they turned their heads to look, he was right next to Tolgun. They recognized the Dwarf immediately as the one they saw in the work shack eating dust, but he had no eyes. He grabbed Tolgun, wild with fear, clothes in tatters, blood dripping from cuts on his exposed flesh, and cried out, "Run! Run for your lives! They're going to eat you!" At that, Gorm was overcome with the feeling that Tolgun was going to eat him. The ghostly apparition ran off into the snow in a panic. Gorm dropped his axe and ran away from Tolgun and into another room of the cabin. Ryll soon stepped out on the porch and Gorm's fear was wiped away. We then searched the new room Gorm found, and we beheld a simple chamber with a hide rug covered with muddy stains before the door next to a rickety chair. A thick blanket covered an opening on one wall. There was also a small door leading to another room we already searched. We also found a heavy magical weapon of some kind. Behind the blanket was a small coat room with a wooden bench holding muddy footwear and dusty outerwear.
We went back through the cabin, searching each room more carefully. We found a ledger with detailed maps of the nearby regions that the Vekker Brothers had been mining. It locates all their assay points and dig sites, complete with notes on the payouts of each mine. It appears that each had played out without imparting any particularly rich lodes. Several pages near the end of the ledger had been torn out. It appears that most of the mining exploits were deeper into the mountains to the north. In the same room as the ledger, we found several sacks full of gold dust and nuggets as well as a small coffer holding a few precious gems.
As we discussed what to do next, something strange happened. We heard a faint knocking coming from the stair shaft. We approached that area of the cabin cautiously. The sound got louder, but we continued to see nothing. Suddenly, the sound stopped and everything became deathly quiet. After a few seconds, a loud crack followed by a mighty hammering sound suddenly filled the cabin as its walls began to shake and groan, almost as if the entire structure were giving up its purchase on the cliff's edge and sliding off. "Out the front!" I ordered. Lai'Ki and I, steadying ourselves against the shaking floor, escaped out the front, Nala and Soril flew out, but Gorm, Ryll, and Tolgun fell down. As the hammering sound continued, those left inside reported seeing ghosts of starving Dwarves and experienced intense hunger pangs. Soril was able to teleport Ryll and Tolgun out, while Nala ran back in to save Gorm. They reported hearing fragments of sentences related to hunger and cannibalistic intentions. Soril fired off a huge gout of flame as a signal flare near the cabin as a rally point. Fearing others were lagging behind, I ran back in to help. However, the shaking suddenly stopped and we were all able to vacate the premises. Once we got out to the porch, in the doorway behind us manifested a ghostly Dwarf with no eyes and said, "You...you are alive? Do you not hunger? Ah, that is what I sense in your blood: greed. You seek the City of Greed. You should abandon your quest lest you end up like me – cold, dead, and eaten – but I suspect you cannot be swayed. Know, then, that I know the way. I can show you the way, but only if you bring my brother. He died on a ledge in the mountains a mile's walk north of this cabin. I feel his soul there, still hungry and still insane. Bring his bones to me so that I might reconcile with him. Once he is at rest, I will show you the way so that I may rest as well." With that, his form slowly faded away piece by piece as if eroded by the wind.
Feeling worn out from our investigation and seeking a less haunted shelter from the blizzard, Soril created a rope trick so we could rest and recuperate. When we set out the next morning, the blizzard was still raging, despite Soril’s attempt to control it. We then went back through the cabin quickly and went down the cliff and outside to retrieve George, Lai'Ki's horse. We found him, no worse for wear. According to the map we found, the mine that possibly held the remains of one of the Dwarves was about a mile north of the cabin. There was a mostly shear cliff tha was hundreds of feet high and there was a description of a large outcropping with a natural cave, in which they found several mineral deposits. Despite the near white-out conditions, Lai'Ki was able to use the map to find the proper trail to the mine. After a few hours of trudging through the deep snow, we finally made it to a cliff that resembled the appropriate place on the map. We found pitons placed in the rock and we used them to climb the cliff to the top. We made our way to a large outcropping, the ground rough and uneven and covered with rocks and rubble. Near one edge of the cliff, a small number of grave stones protruded from the ground. There was a cave that was probably used as a mine with a long-dormant fire pit near the entrance. The area was somewhat protected from the wind and weather.
Near the fire pit was the frozen body of a long-dead dwarf. The corpse was wearing magical padded armor but was otherwise broken and mangled in such a way that it appeared to have fallen from a great height. The ends of its legs were charred and blackened stumps. Inspecting the grave markers, they all had names listed, but only one stood out – the one belonging to Silas Vekker, one of the two brothers. As we moved to recover the corpse, another ghost appeared and violently attacked our two Dwarves. It really hurt Tolgun with some sort of life-draining touch and bite, dropping him in one massed attack. At the same time, out of the ground in front of the cave burst a huge frost worm. It spewed a cold breath weapon at the surprised Soril. The ghost then heavily damaged Gorm. With a combination of melee attacks, we destroyed the ghost but we knew it was possible for it to return at some point. The ice worm then attacked Nala, dealing horrendous physical and cold damage. Finally though, through a combination of arms, we were able to slay the frost worm.
We took a moment to heal and quickly explore the cave. After several yards, we found that the mine had collapsed and was basically impassable. We found nothing of interest on the ledge or around the mountain. We gathered the remains of the dead Vekker brother and wandered back to the cabin. Along the way, we heard another mournful wail on the wind, this one sounding much closer and eerier. After listening closely, Lai'Ki and I realized that it was not a natural sound. It resembled the textbook sound made by a wendigo – a planar outsider associated with cold environments that have the ability to haunt the minds of mortals, driving them to desperate and ultimately cannibalistic madness. They enjoy tormenting their prey before finally causing them to succumb to their own desires to consume each other. Sometimes, tribes of bestial humanoids like orcs or goblinoids will resort to worshiping the creatures. That was when it dawned on us that something more sinister than a bunch of lost Dwarves was in play.
We hurriedly returned to the cabin with the frozen corpse. Once we took it inside, a strange sense of calm seemed to fall over the cabin. Even the howling sounds of the raging blizzard outside seemed muted. Carrying the bones into the living quarters, the no-eyed Dwarf ghost manifested again with a sad expression on its face. The ghost of the other Dwarf we fought on the mountain ledge also appeared. For a few moments, the two stared at each other under intense concentration. Wispy tendrils of ectoplasmic material moved and swirled between the two of them, like a mental struggle was taking place. Then suddenly, the wail of the wendigo was heard again, much louder now – as if the creature were right outside the window. Then something suddenly attacked the cabin, an entire section of the roof ripping away. There before us, in the howling winds of the blizzard, stood the wendigo. It seamed to float in the air, its legs ending in the same charred stumps as Karravic Vekker. The blizzard continued to rage, providing concealment, cover, deflection of projectiles, and a major distraction. I kept my distance from the monster, trying to use my spells to hurt it and aid my friends. Unable to use her bow effectively in the wind, Lai'Ki drew her scimitar and charged into the fray with Gorm and Ryll at her sides. The wendigo let out a fierce howl that nearly froze us in our tracks from fear. Tolgun tried using a combination of spells and melee attacks against the creature, all to no avail. Frustrated, he summoned a fire elemental to fight in his place while he tended to the wounds of others. Nala, his bombs flying wildly off target in the weather, resorted to protection spells for the other fighters. Soril tried to move away from the fight, but was struck hard by the wendigo. He spent the rest of the fight in the protection of the hallway, occasionally blasting the creature from a distance. Finally, after a hard fight, the wendigo flew off in a rage, to be seen no more.
In the minutes that followed, as curative spells were administered to my compatriots, Silas appeared to win the silent confrontation with his brother. Karravic's ghost suddenly relaxed in size. His ghost, which had a sinister look about it with jagged pointy carnivorous teeth and feet burned away, becomes more normal. His teeth and feet grew back and he slowly faded away into nothingness. Silas turned to face us, his expression now at peace, but not without an element of sadness. He said, "You have saved my brother and you have saved me. I should reward you by simply taking the path to Xin-Shalast with me into the beyond. Yet, I sense you still harbor a desire to see the golden ruins. Very well. Look to the pages of my ledger for the way and may Torag watch over you in the darkness to come." At those parting words, the ghost of Silas Vekker disappeared and several torn pages fell to the ground. These were the treasures we have long sought: detailed descriptions on how to get to Xin-Shalast! Over the next couple of hours, the blizzard dissipated into nothingness and the cabin returned to its pre-haunted conditions.
There were five descriptive pages in all, which seems to match up to the pages that were torn from the Vekker brothers’ journal. According to their diary, the first step is to continue traveling up the Kazaron River until you reach a second tributary, then follow it to its source. By everything we have learned so far, we think there is a high chance that this second tributary is the legendary river Avah, which the Thassilonians said led to Xin-Shalast. The notes say that the river follows a winding route through the Kodar Mountains. It is a difficult journey, with no banks along the river requiring one to travel through the river itself. The river is not very deep for the most part but the water is swift and freezing cold, though it never seems to freeze. The Vekker brothers talk about it being a journey of at least a couple of weeks. One must negotiate several cataracts, some rising hundreds of feet high as one climbs into the mountains. As the elevation continues to rise, the air becomes very thin and one would labor to breathe. Once the Dwarves reached the headwaters of the river, they found a place they refer to as the Icemists. This description matches with what we had learned from Brodert Quink. At the other side of the river is a road paved with gold that leads to Xin-Shalast. However, it is difficult to get there. As it turns out, on the Vekker brothers’ first trip to this place, they lucked into it and on subsequent trips they figured out exactly what they needed to do. The Icemists, the frozen fen, is a frozen swamp land surrounded by glittering clouds of icy crystals. Here, the ledger describes how the Vekker brothers in their prospecting made it to this point, but they had been traveling several weeks longer than they had expected and they had run low on provisions, so they had rationed all of their food to last longer. So, by the time they reached the Fen of the Icemists, they had been fasting for several days. Also, once they got up to the fen, they camped out because they were pretty fatigued – the beginning stages of starvation. Over the next few days they rested there, one of those nights happened to be a full moon. At that point, once the sun set and the moon rose full, there appeared a glowing path that led through the Ice Fens. It followed where one might think the river would flow. Curiosity getting the better of them, they followed it and eventually passed through a portion of the Icemists that had an apparent “wrongness” to it, as they describe. As they passed through it, they eventually came to the golden road.
So, not only does it sound like a physical path we must follow, but a mental preparation that must be done as well. The next full moon is in two days. We would either need a magical means of reaching the Ice Fens by that time, or be forced to wait another month to continue our infiltration of Xin-Shalast. I believe we are all eager to take care of Karzoug as soon as possible, so we will be using the description of the Fen of Icemists in an effort to teleport to that location. To do this, we need some last minute supplies, and so Soril will whisk us back to Absalom tomorrow with the sacks of gold we recovered from the mining operation. I am sure if they were to think on the subject, Gorm and Tolgun would point out that those sacks of gold rightly belong to the Dwarven investors who backed the Vekker brothers’ expedition, but I will not be the one to remind them of that.
- E
Rova 16, 4708 – Late Afternoon
Illya,
The Vekker brothers’ journal was amazingly accurate. It sounded like Xin-Shalast might be masked by the intrusion of another plane, requiring some sort of semi-planar traveling. The day after our fight with the wendigo at the Dwarven cabin, we teleported to Absalom and did some quick shopping with our divided loot.
Soril then used a scroll of greater teleport, using the description of the Fen of Icemists, to instantaneously cover the huge distance to Icefens. Unfortunately, the magic in the scroll could only carry six people at a time, so I volunteered to stay behind and have Soril come for me later. Once my friends disappeared from sight, I readied myself for the change of atmosphere and drew forth Blackthorn from her sheath, in case we transported into a fight. After a few moments, Soril returned, grabbed my hand, and we appeared just outside of an area that matched the description of the Fen of Icemists. The abrupt change in climate almost stole my breath away, but we were in no immediate peril. The headwaters of the River Avah are a partially frozen wasteland. According Lai’Ki, it had once been a lake area, but a series of volcanic eruptions over a span of many years have clogged the area with silt and other debris which created this icy marsh. What was interesting about it was that the air was very cold and very thin. There is a great deal of permafrost and frozen water, but the fog is warm. Lai’Ki surmised that there might still be volcanic activity going on causing warm steam to rise through the ground and mixing with the cold air creating a warm fog that rapidly cools and condenses blanketing the ground with hoarfrost. We were standing on the southern end of the area where the River Avah connects to the frozen marsh. It was early evening by the time we arrived, so we set up camp and staid ourselves for a rough few days of fasting. The weather was cold, but we were prepared for that with our cold weather clothing and gear. However, the altitude really sapped our strength, especially the Dwarves who are used to much lower altitudes and higher air pressures deep within the earth.
The next morning, we rose and began our usual routine. As we acclimated to the area, we noticed that while there is nothing overtly going on, we got the sense of feeling distinctly unwelcome and a sense of dread and worry weighed heavily upon us. Our normal magical abilities revealed no road through the Ice Fens. There was almost no animal or plant life at all other than fungus. However, we did notice a river otter off in the distance, a rather curious creature. After a few hours of feeling the effects of the thin air on his body and mind, Soril eventually started casting protective spells on himself to ward off altitude sickness, while others suffered and I seemed to shake off the effect. The otter kept watching us throughout the day. I figured we had invaded its hunting ground and it was waiting for a chance to reclaim it.
Finally, the night of the full moon arrived. As the moon rose and our bellies ached from a lack of food, a faintly glowing path appeared, stretching from the river spring through the frozen fen and winding toward the west to a mountain pass. We immediately set off in the middle of the night. It was difficult to cross the marsh land, but with Lai’Ki’s guidance, we were able to pick our way across at a snail’s pace. The waters appear to be in a constant state of freezing and thawing due to a mixture of high altitude, cold weather, and latent volcanism, creating the mist-shrouded frozen region and swaths of icy mud. No plants exist apart from the ever-present stalks of strange pale fungi and clots of floating lichen that cover and hide deep tarns of freezing water. The fen appears to be riddled with hummocks of solid ground and protruding rocks. We found that we could carefully move through it without falling into the water as long as we kept to the mystically appearing path. (The passage was reminiscent of an ancient Elven legend about some Halflings having to traverse a bog to destroy a ring.)
We traveled all night with Lai’Ki scouting the path. Even though the sun began appear on the horizon and the ambient light level rose, the illuminated road to the west was still very much apparent to us. We briefly stopped in the morning to prepare spells and then continued, some of us suffering under the altitude strains. Curiously, the delicious-looking otter had followed us throughout the night, so Lai’Ki cast a spell to converse with it. She said, “Hey little fella, what is going on.” The otter looked at her, expressed curiosity on its face, turned, scampered off, and hopped into a pool of water. We continued.
Late this afternoon, we noticed that we were about half way through the fen on our way to the mountain pass. As she picked her way through the bog, tired and yawning, Lai’Ki saw the otter again up ahead of her. This time, the otter spoke, in a squeaky language similar to Sylvan, but none of us responded. Surprisingly, the otter, in a flash, transformed into a lovely nymph. In the common tongue, she introduced herself as Svevinka, and proudly told us we had entered her realm. She asked politely where we were going and what we were doing here. Lai’Ki said, “We are seeking the fabled city of Xin-Shalast in thy mountain pass over yonder.” Svevinka said that this area was known as the Icemist Vale or the Fen of Icemists. She said that this was her home and she is the caretaker and overseer of this area. She acknowledged that she had been observing us since we arrived. She seemed quite taken with Lai’Ki, noticing that the Half-human appeared to be very knowledgeable, a very good woodswoman, and that she treated her area with care and respect. She was very appreciative of that respect. Since she gets so few travelers through her realm, she was very curious about where a group such as ours could be going. She was concerned that we may be heading toward the ancient city – a dangerous place, she said. Probing her more information, the nymph responded that she occasionally sees inhabitants of that city pass through her area, mainly giants, lamia, yeti, or abominable snowman. She explained that her home is on the edge of a boundary. The barrier between our reality and the plane of Leng is thin here, a phenomenon that gives rise to a number of strange and magical effects on this area. We could feel a definite sense of dread or malevolence that permeated the place. Svevinka thinks the origin of this thinness between planes stems from further up the mountain pass. She described a high mountain above the dangerous city with a face carved into the side, and somewhere in that area she believes is the origin of the planar effect. These effects have apparently been present all of the nymph’s life. She mentioned that not all of the inhabitants of the ruined city are bad or evil. There is another group there, a group of skulks, who claim to be the descendants of the original inhabitants of the city at the time catastrophe befell it just before the Days of the Darkened Skies. They have changed over the years into what they are now. If we were to encounter them, she cautioned us that they are possibly innocents, caught under the regime of a tyrant. They call themselves “the spared.” They are relatively peaceful but are plagued by a creature known as the hidden beast. We told Svevinka that the dangers of that city have started to plague the world at large and we were on a quest to rid the land of its evil tyrant, Karzoug. She grew excited at the prospect of our facing the runelord in order to “encourage” him not to pursue his schemes any further. She said she could not leave her home unprotected, but she offered her services for rest, respite, or use of her curative spells to help us. This seemed a good time to rest for the night and converse with the fey spirit. She had some very useful advice for us. She mentioned that flying and teleportation magic may not work here, due to the permeating evil energy. It covers the edge of the Ice Fens and extends well into the city. As long as we maintain our fasting, we will be able to see the magical trail that will lead us to our intended destination. Beyond the valley we are heading to, a golden road leads to the city. There are a few naturally flying creatures, including dragons, in the area, so we should be well-prepared for them. If we should find a way to leave and later return to this area, we will not need to wait for a full moon, but we will have to fast again to attune our minds, bodies, and spirits to this thin boundary between planes. Otherwise, one would wander aimlessly. She recognized that some of us were using magic to offset the effects of altitude sickness. She advised us that we would have to either continuously use magical means every day to offset the lack of air or else take time the appropriate time (possibly weeks) to acclimate to the rarefied atmosphere. Every time we use magic to maintain our health, the acclimation process resets itself. Our journey to Xin-Shalast still requires several hundred miles of travel on foot, so we might as well become acclimated on the way.
It sounds like we still have a long, arduous journey ahead of us. Knowing we have a path to follow, however, boosts my spirits in the hope that our long-held adventure is nearing the end. From what we were able to gather from Svevinka, we may even be able to find strange allies within Xin-Shalast to help us thwart Karzoug’s schemes.
- E
Illya,
Since returning to Jorgenfist from our sojourn into Runeforge, we have spent the last ten days poring through the ancient tomes we found in that place of arcane research. I believe we spent the time well, adding spells to our knowledge, upgrading our equipment using the Arcane Anvil, and allowing Tolgun some much-needed time to practice his battle prowess (or lack thereof).
We managed to come away from Runeforge with a great amount of swag and have spent some time identifying, cataloging, and appraising it all. Now that we have had some time to recuperate, we plan to travel to Magnimar in the morning to sell what we can and replenish our supplies before we continue our plan to thwart Karzoug in his home territory.
- E
Arodus 9, 4708 – Early Evening
Illya,
The sights, sounds, and ... smells of this city are startling. I have only been here a few hours and already I feel overstimulated. It will take me some time to get used to this place, but it looks like I will have that opportunity. I believe we will be staying in Absalom for quite some time.
As we planned, yesterday we traveled to Magnimar in search of goods. However, we quickly reached the limit the merchants there could pay us for our loot we appropriated from Runeforge. The shopkeepers ran out of coin and we would have to wait for quite sometime before we could sell off everything we did not need. Instead, we decided to travel to Absalom, the City at the Center of the World, in search of more lucrative bargains. Soril bought a magical scroll that could whisk us away to that far away metropolis if he but focused on a descriptive image of the place. Since all school children are taught to recognize the tiled domes and marble spires of the Starstone Cathedral, that is where we arrived this morning – outside the bridges leading toward the holiest place on Golarion. The Elven schoolbooks do not do it justice. It was such a magnificent sight to behold! Any words I could write about it here would be unequal to the task. They should have sent a bard. However, the luster of the moment quickly faded as the enormous din of thousands upon thousands of people going about their urban lives flooded my senses. I do not see how anyone can stand so much unnatural noise in their daily lives.
Absalom is huge. Its markets seem to stretch on forever. We had no trouble selling what we had, but that many artifacts being exchanged for so much coin drew quite a bit of attention. People were naturally curious about our adventures and how handsomely they rewarded us. It was difficult to communicate the significance and burden of our quest while dealing with the richness and rewards that came with it.
With the wealth we accrued, we were able to buy new equipment and commission upgrades for our existing arms and armor. However, it will be some time before all our provisions are ready. I only hope Karzoug’s armies remain locked in his mountain fortress during that time.
- E
Arodus 20, 4708 – Late Evening
Illya,
While we continue to wait for the upgrades to our equipment, our arrival in Absalom seems to have coincided with the annual Armasse festival. As the newest of the more prominent adventuring parties to arrive in the city, we were asked to aid in the rite of training the citizenry in the art of combat. I was more than happy to oblige, using my experience from teaching at the Mierani Arcane War School. We also delighted the crowds in retelling some of our adventures from the past year. The people really liked the parts about dragons.
Our stories also attracted the attentions of certain groups of people interested in ancient artifacts, notably the Pathfinders. One of them was none other than Cevil “Redwing” Charms, who wrote the definitive book on Thassilon and with whom Brodert Quink had some dealings. We were happy to discuss what we learned with him. Redwing is an older gentleman who adventured several decades ago. He reiterated his story about the Dwarven brothers who were prospecting in the Kodar Mountains and stumbled upon the pathway to a city filled with ridiculously fabulous wealth. He brought out a map of Varisia and showed us the location of the Kazaron River, the headwaters of which are located in the High Kodars. The Dwarvan prospectors had traveled up the Kazaron, past an ice marsh, and up into an area where there were many strange effects - it was described to us as an area where the boundary between planes was thin. The brothers returned with little loot, because they had been driven off by giant creatures that lived in the destroyed city, but the coins they held matched descriptions of coins found throughout Varisia that date back to Thassilonian times. The brothers then got some corporate backers and returned to the Kodars with a group of Dwarves to set up at their old base camp to start excavation efforts. This was about 80 years ago and no one has ever returned from that venture. Mr. Charms suggested that the Kazaron River might be the fabled river Avah that flowed from Xin-Shalast.
Gorm and Tolgun got into the “spirit” of the Armasse festival by drinking every night until one of them fell buns-over-braincase into a drunken stupor.
I still have not gotten used to this place. I long for the peace and quiet of a more remote setting. However, there are plenty of places for Lai’Ki and me to explore and many things to do to keep us busy while we wait. The long summer days seem to pass quickly enough. I am beginning to worry about Soril, though. He seems to spend most of his time in his room preparing scrolls. I fear he is not getting the full benefits of this respite from action.
- E
Arodus 29, 4708 – Early Evening
Illya,
We are finally ready to proceed with our quest. All of our gear has been prepared, substantially increasing our survivability, and we have met back up to plan our next steps. Ryll had spent the last few days in meditative seclusion, so it was good to see her radiant face again. I just realized that this was the first day since arriving in Absalom that I had seen Nala. He said very little but seemed very curious about the Starstone Cathedral. I wonder what he has been doing these past few weeks. Tolgun, Gorm, and Soril popped off to the Dwarven city of Janderhoff for a day or two to ask about the Dwarf brothers Vekker, but they did not find out anything additional of much use other than confirming the story of Redwing Charms.
I believe our first order of businesss is to visit Sandpoint in the morning, just to make sure there have been no more developments with those good people. Then we will try to retrace the route of the Vekker brothers into the distant and inhospitable Kodar Mountains. The journey will not be an easy one, but I believe we are now prepared to face the challenges that await us.
- E
P.S. – I believe Tolgun must have lost some drunken bet and had some magical enhancement cast upon him because he is now several feet taller than I am. A tasteful tattoo would have been more useful.
Arodus 30, 4708 – Early Evening
Illya,
Upon our return to Sandpoint, we were instantly hailed as returning heroes. They called off all activities for the day to throw a big feast in our honor featuring copious amounts of crab meat, since it was in season. The sinkhole in the middle of town has been marked off with a wooden railing. Word of the Thassilonian ruins below the town has gotten back to Brodert Quink in Jorgenfist, who has taken charge of its excavation in absentia. Several groups from Magnimar and Korvosa have traveled here to aid in the activities, bringing a much needed financial windfall to the town. They have also begun a large series of statues of us all, to stand near your memorial statue near the Old Light. Ryll took what money she had left over and made a sizable donation to the local temple.
- E
Rova 5, 4708 – Early Evening
Illya,
The weather grows cold, even this early in the season. Thankfully, we were prepared for such an eventuality.
After a day feasting in Sandpoint, Soril transported us to Turtleback Ferry in central Varisia. From there, he summoned some magical mounts to ride around the Storval Deep until we came to the Kazaron River. We have ridden along the river for several days now and the mountains around us are unlike anything we have ever seen before. To say the terrain is rugged would be an understatement. The vegetation is sparse, but we are well-provisioned. The plateau continues to rise in elevation as the snow caps drape longer upon the nearest peaks.
I feel much more at home here in the wilderness than in the hustle and bustle of the city. Yet, my heart is filled with a strange sense of foreboding. What lies before us is still a mystery
- E
Rova 13, 4708 – Late Evening
Illya,
The last few days have been sickeningly unsettling. There are things in this world – spirits from the Great Beyond that are more terrifying to me than a horde of orc slavers. I have come through this latest ordeal wiser but no more confident in my abilities to face the unseen.
After about two weeks of travel on horseback, we came to a point along the river basin where Lai’Ki spotted some rather large, unidentifiable tracks. We continued more cautiously. As we did so, we came upon a cleft of rock on the opposite side of the now-narrow river and something caught our eyes. We found a number of discarded artifacts: small picks of Dwarven make and several other items common to a labor camp. There was evidence of a long-abandoned fire pit, too. We found no bodily remains, but we surmised that some Dwarves from the Five Kingdoms had camped here for at least a few days in the past. We knew we were getting closer to our objective.
As we continued up the river, the weather finally began to worsen, growing colder as we climbed in elevation and the occasional snow flurry leaving a white dusting on the ground. A day later, we found an area where the river had carved out a canyon. Again, along the opposite side of the river, we spied a split log cabin with a long shaft coming down the side of the cliff into a small shack not far from the river edge. Apparent that it was a humanoid-made structure, we decided to check it out. We forded the cold shallow river and edged closer to the shack at the bottom of the canyon. The ground was rocky with some snow and ice scattered on the ground. As we approached, a mysterious howl was heard coming from far off on the wind. It resembled the sound of a wild animal, probably an elk, but Lai’Ki thought it sounded wounded and that there was an otherworldly, supernatural component to the sound. The Dwarves in our group did not hear it. We dismounted and began to investigate. Nothing seemed out of place except perhaps an old, almost-dead looking tree, like a bristlecone pine. There were a couple of doors into the small structure on the canyon floor. A split-log tower abutted the cliff face and rose from what appeared to be a workshop on the ground level to a larger cabin perched on the cliff’s edge many feet above. The rough wooden structure was so overgrown with lichen as to appear an extension of the rock face. The ground around the lower structure was a steep embankment over which a chute protruded from the structure’s southern wall. At the base of the embankment sat a large pile of fine black sand that spread out in deposits striated by years of erosion. The ground surrounding the pile was barren of any plant life with the exception of that single sagging pine tree. Faint traces of a footpath led to the workhouse doors, though it was obvious none had come this way in years. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades.
As I neared the tree, it suddenly animated and attacked us, like some gnarled, dying treant gone mad. We attacked it with fire, which seemed to have damaged it badly. Once it caught the sight of Lai’Ki, it ignored me and went after her, presumably because she was a student of nature. It hit hard, damaging her ability to wield her bow. Ryll could apparently tell that it was some kind of undead tree creature and called out to Sarenrae for help in battling it. At some length, it was destroyed in a burning, smoldering heap. We took a brief moment to heal our wounds before moving on into the cabin.
We went to one of the doors, checked it for traps, and opened it up. The room beyond was an old store room of some sort. Within were the dusty remains of a thriving mining enterprise. The rotten remnants of wheelbarrows, shovels, picks, ore sacks, plates for panning, and other things were stacked in a jumble. All of it was covered in a thick layer of frost and had deteriorated to the point of uselessness. Gorm said they were of Dwarven make. Finding no other entrances or exits to this room, we went around to another door in the shack. It was locked, but Soril was able to magically open it. That room had a bare plank floor with a wide double door standing to the east and, next to it, a shabby curtain closed off another opening. The room’s dry boards still appeared to be stout, having been successfully sealed against the elements. Gorm threw back the curtain. Beyond was a small, barren chamber. A wood frame cot rested against the far wall with a rough straw mattress and a threadbare blanket thrown haphazardly across it. A pair of old work boots crusted with the dried remains of old mud still sat under the cot. One of the boots appeared to be magical and we found a magical punching dagger inside it.
We then opened the double doors. The air in that long-sealed chamber was absolutely putrid. The back wall was the solid rock of the cliff face. A ramp rose from the western door to a height of five feet. Mounds of dust and rocky debris cluttered the floor while rusty mechanical equipment – copper tanks and several rock crushing and chipping tools – sat upon a sagging wooden table. The handle of a shovel jutted from a debris pile immediately below the door. Two pairs of elbow-length thick gloves stained from long use hung from hooks beside the door. Gorm was the first to notice a shadowy figure crouching in the corner of the room seeming to shift and move about. The shadows faded, and a ghostly Dwarf appeared to be squatting in the corner, his back to the doors. He scooped up handfuls of gold dust from the ground near the chute. He turned toward Gorm, gold dust sticking to his beard, and said, “You! You have to try this – it is soooo delicious.” As he said this, he continued to gluttonously stuff more handfuls of gold dust into his mouth and swallow. In his own words, for a brief moment, Gorm felt the beginnings of a compulsion to take the shadowy figure’s advice and start eating the gold dust. After a moment, the figure of the dwarf suddenly shrank in upon itself, grew emaciated, and then flew apart in a red explosion of bite-sized morsels of flesh and bone. An instant later, he and all remnants were gone. This was a disturbing apparition, but no one knew exactly how to explain it. Once Gorm described the eerie scene, Tolgun and Ryll said it reminded them of their experience within Foxglove Manor.
Gorm opened the door to the next room which led to the shaft descending down the cliff wall. A sturdy-looking wooden stair and rail started at the bottom of the shaft and circled up into the heights running sunwise. Above, its passage was lost in the gloom, like the musty interior of an ancient silo. A thick length of chain hung down the shaft in loops, its links swaying and clanking softly to the periodic gust of wind that penetrated the walls. No windows pierced the wooden walls of the shaft. Propped against the east wall near the door was an upended wheelbarrow. We all started up the stairs, but when Gorm walked into the shaft, the chain animated and attacked him. Unfortunately, at the same time Lai’Ki was overcome by the image of the shadowy Dwarf and began eating handfuls of dust and debris from the floor, making herself sick. Tolgun tried to grab Lai’Ki and pull her away, but he could not get a good hold of her. Soon after, though, Gorm hit and sundered the chain, making it cease its attack. Ryll was able to restore sanity to Lai’Ki, causing her to stop eating whatever it was she consumed. I moved into the same room and, remembering the description from some esoteric tome from a time long forgotten, immediately realized it was the effect of a haunt, an undead presence that could manifest in a variety of mind-affecting ways. I looked at the floor and found that Lai’Ki was eating some sort of processed mining material. She had been poisoned. Nala told us that the processing of gold ore uses arsenic, some residue of which was probably Lai’Ki had ingested, though she told us she thought the gold dust was delicious. Tolgun was able to heal her suffering a bit and delay the effects of any more poisoning until he could heal her fully.
Gorm began walking up the stairs again. As he climbed, I noticed that the weather had begun to kick up just before I entered the shaft room, the snow flurries and wind increasing in intensity. Snow started falling rather heavily. We closed the outside doors, determined to stay here the night while the weather blew over. We went up the stairs, but near the top, Gorm stepped on a trap, causing a section of the rail to collapse outward, requiring Gorm and Tolgun to grab onto the stairs and pull themselves back up before they fell the length of the shaft. Once we reached the top, the stairs opened into a room. A heavy winch bolted to the balcony supported a broken rusty chain that ran up through a pulley mounted in the roof of the shaft and attached to a heavy iron bucket sitting on the floor. Nothing else appears in the room. We opened the door into a hallway that led to a number of other doors. One of the doors led to a room that obviously doubled as the main living quartes and kitchen for the inhabitants of the cabin. A stone hearth and chimney occupied one corner with an iron hook holding a cauldron above the grate. The rest of the room was in a horrific state. Firewood, cooking utensils, pots and pans, and even the furniture lay in scattered heaps. A painting of two dower-looking Dwarves standing in front of an enormous elk hung askew on the wall. Ancient blood stains marred the walls and floors and bits of overturned furniture here and there, but there were no bodies. Gorm, Lai’Ki, and Soril moved in to investigate, but, as they later described it, they noticed that they had horrifically unnatural hunger pangs. They were so ravenously hungry they could not think straight. Soril even felt like he was withering away, and almost became ravenously nonsensical, wanting to consume human flesh, driven to the brink of madness. He fell to the floor, cowering and whimpering. Gorm and Lai’Ki at least had sense enough to drag poor Soril out of the room and, after a few minutes, he was able to communicate that he was no longer in pain, though his mind still seemed to be affected by something.
Wanting to find some quick answers, Gorm opened another door. That chamber contained heavy shelving and held the detritus and debris accumulated over decades of habitation. This time, Ryll alone searched the room, finding all manner of odds and ends for the maintenance and upkeep of the cabin and a mining venture, all under a thick layer of dust and ancient rodent droppings. There was nothing of value. Gorm opened yet another door, revealing a large worn elk hide spread across the floor of a bunk room. Another old moth-eaten hide covered the entry into a small closet. A window, with a crack running through the thick planes of glass, looked out to the south. A set of rough-made bunk beds stood against the wall next to the door. An old coat with holes in its elbows hung from a post. The bunks themselves had flat straw mattresses and layers of heavy blankets piled at their feet. An old metal coal box rested on one for use as a foot warmer. A weapons rack to in the room held a crossbow, two axes, and a light wooden shield. Beneath it was a large leather chest while a hooded lantern hung unlit from the rafter. Again, there was nothing of any real value. The weapons and shield are warped and useless. The leather chest held only mundane articles of rough clothing, a few grooming items, and various small trinkets of Shoanti manufacture. Gorm found that one of the unoccupied pegs on the rack was actually a lever. Nala decided to pull on it. When he did, something near me near the stairs made a metallic clink. I saw the bucket on the chain release and fall down the shaft. When the noise of the falling bucket subsided, we were all left with the sound of the wind howling outside and we found ourselves in the midst of a full-blown snow storm.
What we thought was a closet turned out to be a privy with a wooden bench and an old rusty bucket. Hanging from a small hook were a number of torn papers. They appeared to be broadsheets from the city of Korvosa dated about 80 years ago. Gorm opened another door from the hallway. This door was particularly heavy and sealed against the frame, but Gorm was able to push it open. The bare-floored room had a series of iron hooks suspended from the rafters. The window in the far wall looked out over the edge of the cliff and, unlike others in the cabin, had no glass or shutters, only a tight lattice of iron bars. Against the far wall sat a four-foot tall mound of bones – Dwarven bones by the look of it. Tolgun started counting them and found the remains of only one Dwarf, but he noticed that they had been gnawed upon. He said the skeleton had a headband of Thassilonian make, which was strange considering the reports were that the Dwarves only brought back coins, no magical items. As he looked closer, he noticed that the items on the skeleton were the same as what he was wearing. It was at that point that Gorm noticed that his cousin began to thrash wildly, under the impression that whispers, grunts, and hands were grabbing at him in an attempt to devour him. Tolgun began to scream in some foul language. Bloody wounds from invisible teeth appeared across his body and Tolgun thought that he was being eaten alive by someone incredibly strong. As quickly as it all began, he came out of his crazed state and he said the voices disappeared. Once the episode was over, Tolgun saw that the bones were once again unadorned with any equipment. We started to piece together what happened in this cabin so long ago: Dwarves, gone crazy with greed and poor provisioning turn to murder and cannibalism. It sounded like a typical Dwarven venture to me, but I was far from the true cause of the haunted cabin, as it turned out.
Continuing our search of the cabin, Gorm and Tolgun went through another door that led to a rough outdoor porch with crudely crafted hand rails extending from the front of the cabin. A short stair descended to the ground at the north end. The eaves of the overhanging roof were festooned with dozens of animal skulls including deer, bear, aurochs, and various other animals. The posts supporting the overhang and the outside edge of the hand rail itself were hung with racks of antlers. A stone chimney rose next to the door on the porch and a couple of split logs had been set on the raised porch as furniture. As Gorm and Tolgun perused the porch area, out of the corners of their eyes, they thought they saw someone running toward the cabin out of the blowing snow. By the time they turned their heads to look, he was right next to Tolgun. They recognized the Dwarf immediately as the one they saw in the work shack eating dust, but he had no eyes. He grabbed Tolgun, wild with fear, clothes in tatters, blood dripping from cuts on his exposed flesh, and cried out, "Run! Run for your lives! They're going to eat you!" At that, Gorm was overcome with the feeling that Tolgun was going to eat him. The ghostly apparition ran off into the snow in a panic. Gorm dropped his axe and ran away from Tolgun and into another room of the cabin. Ryll soon stepped out on the porch and Gorm's fear was wiped away. We then searched the new room Gorm found, and we beheld a simple chamber with a hide rug covered with muddy stains before the door next to a rickety chair. A thick blanket covered an opening on one wall. There was also a small door leading to another room we already searched. We also found a heavy magical weapon of some kind. Behind the blanket was a small coat room with a wooden bench holding muddy footwear and dusty outerwear.
We went back through the cabin, searching each room more carefully. We found a ledger with detailed maps of the nearby regions that the Vekker Brothers had been mining. It locates all their assay points and dig sites, complete with notes on the payouts of each mine. It appears that each had played out without imparting any particularly rich lodes. Several pages near the end of the ledger had been torn out. It appears that most of the mining exploits were deeper into the mountains to the north. In the same room as the ledger, we found several sacks full of gold dust and nuggets as well as a small coffer holding a few precious gems.
As we discussed what to do next, something strange happened. We heard a faint knocking coming from the stair shaft. We approached that area of the cabin cautiously. The sound got louder, but we continued to see nothing. Suddenly, the sound stopped and everything became deathly quiet. After a few seconds, a loud crack followed by a mighty hammering sound suddenly filled the cabin as its walls began to shake and groan, almost as if the entire structure were giving up its purchase on the cliff's edge and sliding off. "Out the front!" I ordered. Lai'Ki and I, steadying ourselves against the shaking floor, escaped out the front, Nala and Soril flew out, but Gorm, Ryll, and Tolgun fell down. As the hammering sound continued, those left inside reported seeing ghosts of starving Dwarves and experienced intense hunger pangs. Soril was able to teleport Ryll and Tolgun out, while Nala ran back in to save Gorm. They reported hearing fragments of sentences related to hunger and cannibalistic intentions. Soril fired off a huge gout of flame as a signal flare near the cabin as a rally point. Fearing others were lagging behind, I ran back in to help. However, the shaking suddenly stopped and we were all able to vacate the premises. Once we got out to the porch, in the doorway behind us manifested a ghostly Dwarf with no eyes and said, "You...you are alive? Do you not hunger? Ah, that is what I sense in your blood: greed. You seek the City of Greed. You should abandon your quest lest you end up like me – cold, dead, and eaten – but I suspect you cannot be swayed. Know, then, that I know the way. I can show you the way, but only if you bring my brother. He died on a ledge in the mountains a mile's walk north of this cabin. I feel his soul there, still hungry and still insane. Bring his bones to me so that I might reconcile with him. Once he is at rest, I will show you the way so that I may rest as well." With that, his form slowly faded away piece by piece as if eroded by the wind.
Feeling worn out from our investigation and seeking a less haunted shelter from the blizzard, Soril created a rope trick so we could rest and recuperate. When we set out the next morning, the blizzard was still raging, despite Soril’s attempt to control it. We then went back through the cabin quickly and went down the cliff and outside to retrieve George, Lai'Ki's horse. We found him, no worse for wear. According to the map we found, the mine that possibly held the remains of one of the Dwarves was about a mile north of the cabin. There was a mostly shear cliff tha was hundreds of feet high and there was a description of a large outcropping with a natural cave, in which they found several mineral deposits. Despite the near white-out conditions, Lai'Ki was able to use the map to find the proper trail to the mine. After a few hours of trudging through the deep snow, we finally made it to a cliff that resembled the appropriate place on the map. We found pitons placed in the rock and we used them to climb the cliff to the top. We made our way to a large outcropping, the ground rough and uneven and covered with rocks and rubble. Near one edge of the cliff, a small number of grave stones protruded from the ground. There was a cave that was probably used as a mine with a long-dormant fire pit near the entrance. The area was somewhat protected from the wind and weather.
Near the fire pit was the frozen body of a long-dead dwarf. The corpse was wearing magical padded armor but was otherwise broken and mangled in such a way that it appeared to have fallen from a great height. The ends of its legs were charred and blackened stumps. Inspecting the grave markers, they all had names listed, but only one stood out – the one belonging to Silas Vekker, one of the two brothers. As we moved to recover the corpse, another ghost appeared and violently attacked our two Dwarves. It really hurt Tolgun with some sort of life-draining touch and bite, dropping him in one massed attack. At the same time, out of the ground in front of the cave burst a huge frost worm. It spewed a cold breath weapon at the surprised Soril. The ghost then heavily damaged Gorm. With a combination of melee attacks, we destroyed the ghost but we knew it was possible for it to return at some point. The ice worm then attacked Nala, dealing horrendous physical and cold damage. Finally though, through a combination of arms, we were able to slay the frost worm.
We took a moment to heal and quickly explore the cave. After several yards, we found that the mine had collapsed and was basically impassable. We found nothing of interest on the ledge or around the mountain. We gathered the remains of the dead Vekker brother and wandered back to the cabin. Along the way, we heard another mournful wail on the wind, this one sounding much closer and eerier. After listening closely, Lai'Ki and I realized that it was not a natural sound. It resembled the textbook sound made by a wendigo – a planar outsider associated with cold environments that have the ability to haunt the minds of mortals, driving them to desperate and ultimately cannibalistic madness. They enjoy tormenting their prey before finally causing them to succumb to their own desires to consume each other. Sometimes, tribes of bestial humanoids like orcs or goblinoids will resort to worshiping the creatures. That was when it dawned on us that something more sinister than a bunch of lost Dwarves was in play.
We hurriedly returned to the cabin with the frozen corpse. Once we took it inside, a strange sense of calm seemed to fall over the cabin. Even the howling sounds of the raging blizzard outside seemed muted. Carrying the bones into the living quarters, the no-eyed Dwarf ghost manifested again with a sad expression on its face. The ghost of the other Dwarf we fought on the mountain ledge also appeared. For a few moments, the two stared at each other under intense concentration. Wispy tendrils of ectoplasmic material moved and swirled between the two of them, like a mental struggle was taking place. Then suddenly, the wail of the wendigo was heard again, much louder now – as if the creature were right outside the window. Then something suddenly attacked the cabin, an entire section of the roof ripping away. There before us, in the howling winds of the blizzard, stood the wendigo. It seamed to float in the air, its legs ending in the same charred stumps as Karravic Vekker. The blizzard continued to rage, providing concealment, cover, deflection of projectiles, and a major distraction. I kept my distance from the monster, trying to use my spells to hurt it and aid my friends. Unable to use her bow effectively in the wind, Lai'Ki drew her scimitar and charged into the fray with Gorm and Ryll at her sides. The wendigo let out a fierce howl that nearly froze us in our tracks from fear. Tolgun tried using a combination of spells and melee attacks against the creature, all to no avail. Frustrated, he summoned a fire elemental to fight in his place while he tended to the wounds of others. Nala, his bombs flying wildly off target in the weather, resorted to protection spells for the other fighters. Soril tried to move away from the fight, but was struck hard by the wendigo. He spent the rest of the fight in the protection of the hallway, occasionally blasting the creature from a distance. Finally, after a hard fight, the wendigo flew off in a rage, to be seen no more.
In the minutes that followed, as curative spells were administered to my compatriots, Silas appeared to win the silent confrontation with his brother. Karravic's ghost suddenly relaxed in size. His ghost, which had a sinister look about it with jagged pointy carnivorous teeth and feet burned away, becomes more normal. His teeth and feet grew back and he slowly faded away into nothingness. Silas turned to face us, his expression now at peace, but not without an element of sadness. He said, "You have saved my brother and you have saved me. I should reward you by simply taking the path to Xin-Shalast with me into the beyond. Yet, I sense you still harbor a desire to see the golden ruins. Very well. Look to the pages of my ledger for the way and may Torag watch over you in the darkness to come." At those parting words, the ghost of Silas Vekker disappeared and several torn pages fell to the ground. These were the treasures we have long sought: detailed descriptions on how to get to Xin-Shalast! Over the next couple of hours, the blizzard dissipated into nothingness and the cabin returned to its pre-haunted conditions.
There were five descriptive pages in all, which seems to match up to the pages that were torn from the Vekker brothers’ journal. According to their diary, the first step is to continue traveling up the Kazaron River until you reach a second tributary, then follow it to its source. By everything we have learned so far, we think there is a high chance that this second tributary is the legendary river Avah, which the Thassilonians said led to Xin-Shalast. The notes say that the river follows a winding route through the Kodar Mountains. It is a difficult journey, with no banks along the river requiring one to travel through the river itself. The river is not very deep for the most part but the water is swift and freezing cold, though it never seems to freeze. The Vekker brothers talk about it being a journey of at least a couple of weeks. One must negotiate several cataracts, some rising hundreds of feet high as one climbs into the mountains. As the elevation continues to rise, the air becomes very thin and one would labor to breathe. Once the Dwarves reached the headwaters of the river, they found a place they refer to as the Icemists. This description matches with what we had learned from Brodert Quink. At the other side of the river is a road paved with gold that leads to Xin-Shalast. However, it is difficult to get there. As it turns out, on the Vekker brothers’ first trip to this place, they lucked into it and on subsequent trips they figured out exactly what they needed to do. The Icemists, the frozen fen, is a frozen swamp land surrounded by glittering clouds of icy crystals. Here, the ledger describes how the Vekker brothers in their prospecting made it to this point, but they had been traveling several weeks longer than they had expected and they had run low on provisions, so they had rationed all of their food to last longer. So, by the time they reached the Fen of the Icemists, they had been fasting for several days. Also, once they got up to the fen, they camped out because they were pretty fatigued – the beginning stages of starvation. Over the next few days they rested there, one of those nights happened to be a full moon. At that point, once the sun set and the moon rose full, there appeared a glowing path that led through the Ice Fens. It followed where one might think the river would flow. Curiosity getting the better of them, they followed it and eventually passed through a portion of the Icemists that had an apparent “wrongness” to it, as they describe. As they passed through it, they eventually came to the golden road.
So, not only does it sound like a physical path we must follow, but a mental preparation that must be done as well. The next full moon is in two days. We would either need a magical means of reaching the Ice Fens by that time, or be forced to wait another month to continue our infiltration of Xin-Shalast. I believe we are all eager to take care of Karzoug as soon as possible, so we will be using the description of the Fen of Icemists in an effort to teleport to that location. To do this, we need some last minute supplies, and so Soril will whisk us back to Absalom tomorrow with the sacks of gold we recovered from the mining operation. I am sure if they were to think on the subject, Gorm and Tolgun would point out that those sacks of gold rightly belong to the Dwarven investors who backed the Vekker brothers’ expedition, but I will not be the one to remind them of that.
- E
Rova 16, 4708 – Late Afternoon
Illya,
The Vekker brothers’ journal was amazingly accurate. It sounded like Xin-Shalast might be masked by the intrusion of another plane, requiring some sort of semi-planar traveling. The day after our fight with the wendigo at the Dwarven cabin, we teleported to Absalom and did some quick shopping with our divided loot.
Soril then used a scroll of greater teleport, using the description of the Fen of Icemists, to instantaneously cover the huge distance to Icefens. Unfortunately, the magic in the scroll could only carry six people at a time, so I volunteered to stay behind and have Soril come for me later. Once my friends disappeared from sight, I readied myself for the change of atmosphere and drew forth Blackthorn from her sheath, in case we transported into a fight. After a few moments, Soril returned, grabbed my hand, and we appeared just outside of an area that matched the description of the Fen of Icemists. The abrupt change in climate almost stole my breath away, but we were in no immediate peril. The headwaters of the River Avah are a partially frozen wasteland. According Lai’Ki, it had once been a lake area, but a series of volcanic eruptions over a span of many years have clogged the area with silt and other debris which created this icy marsh. What was interesting about it was that the air was very cold and very thin. There is a great deal of permafrost and frozen water, but the fog is warm. Lai’Ki surmised that there might still be volcanic activity going on causing warm steam to rise through the ground and mixing with the cold air creating a warm fog that rapidly cools and condenses blanketing the ground with hoarfrost. We were standing on the southern end of the area where the River Avah connects to the frozen marsh. It was early evening by the time we arrived, so we set up camp and staid ourselves for a rough few days of fasting. The weather was cold, but we were prepared for that with our cold weather clothing and gear. However, the altitude really sapped our strength, especially the Dwarves who are used to much lower altitudes and higher air pressures deep within the earth.
The next morning, we rose and began our usual routine. As we acclimated to the area, we noticed that while there is nothing overtly going on, we got the sense of feeling distinctly unwelcome and a sense of dread and worry weighed heavily upon us. Our normal magical abilities revealed no road through the Ice Fens. There was almost no animal or plant life at all other than fungus. However, we did notice a river otter off in the distance, a rather curious creature. After a few hours of feeling the effects of the thin air on his body and mind, Soril eventually started casting protective spells on himself to ward off altitude sickness, while others suffered and I seemed to shake off the effect. The otter kept watching us throughout the day. I figured we had invaded its hunting ground and it was waiting for a chance to reclaim it.
Finally, the night of the full moon arrived. As the moon rose and our bellies ached from a lack of food, a faintly glowing path appeared, stretching from the river spring through the frozen fen and winding toward the west to a mountain pass. We immediately set off in the middle of the night. It was difficult to cross the marsh land, but with Lai’Ki’s guidance, we were able to pick our way across at a snail’s pace. The waters appear to be in a constant state of freezing and thawing due to a mixture of high altitude, cold weather, and latent volcanism, creating the mist-shrouded frozen region and swaths of icy mud. No plants exist apart from the ever-present stalks of strange pale fungi and clots of floating lichen that cover and hide deep tarns of freezing water. The fen appears to be riddled with hummocks of solid ground and protruding rocks. We found that we could carefully move through it without falling into the water as long as we kept to the mystically appearing path. (The passage was reminiscent of an ancient Elven legend about some Halflings having to traverse a bog to destroy a ring.)
We traveled all night with Lai’Ki scouting the path. Even though the sun began appear on the horizon and the ambient light level rose, the illuminated road to the west was still very much apparent to us. We briefly stopped in the morning to prepare spells and then continued, some of us suffering under the altitude strains. Curiously, the delicious-looking otter had followed us throughout the night, so Lai’Ki cast a spell to converse with it. She said, “Hey little fella, what is going on.” The otter looked at her, expressed curiosity on its face, turned, scampered off, and hopped into a pool of water. We continued.
Late this afternoon, we noticed that we were about half way through the fen on our way to the mountain pass. As she picked her way through the bog, tired and yawning, Lai’Ki saw the otter again up ahead of her. This time, the otter spoke, in a squeaky language similar to Sylvan, but none of us responded. Surprisingly, the otter, in a flash, transformed into a lovely nymph. In the common tongue, she introduced herself as Svevinka, and proudly told us we had entered her realm. She asked politely where we were going and what we were doing here. Lai’Ki said, “We are seeking the fabled city of Xin-Shalast in thy mountain pass over yonder.” Svevinka said that this area was known as the Icemist Vale or the Fen of Icemists. She said that this was her home and she is the caretaker and overseer of this area. She acknowledged that she had been observing us since we arrived. She seemed quite taken with Lai’Ki, noticing that the Half-human appeared to be very knowledgeable, a very good woodswoman, and that she treated her area with care and respect. She was very appreciative of that respect. Since she gets so few travelers through her realm, she was very curious about where a group such as ours could be going. She was concerned that we may be heading toward the ancient city – a dangerous place, she said. Probing her more information, the nymph responded that she occasionally sees inhabitants of that city pass through her area, mainly giants, lamia, yeti, or abominable snowman. She explained that her home is on the edge of a boundary. The barrier between our reality and the plane of Leng is thin here, a phenomenon that gives rise to a number of strange and magical effects on this area. We could feel a definite sense of dread or malevolence that permeated the place. Svevinka thinks the origin of this thinness between planes stems from further up the mountain pass. She described a high mountain above the dangerous city with a face carved into the side, and somewhere in that area she believes is the origin of the planar effect. These effects have apparently been present all of the nymph’s life. She mentioned that not all of the inhabitants of the ruined city are bad or evil. There is another group there, a group of skulks, who claim to be the descendants of the original inhabitants of the city at the time catastrophe befell it just before the Days of the Darkened Skies. They have changed over the years into what they are now. If we were to encounter them, she cautioned us that they are possibly innocents, caught under the regime of a tyrant. They call themselves “the spared.” They are relatively peaceful but are plagued by a creature known as the hidden beast. We told Svevinka that the dangers of that city have started to plague the world at large and we were on a quest to rid the land of its evil tyrant, Karzoug. She grew excited at the prospect of our facing the runelord in order to “encourage” him not to pursue his schemes any further. She said she could not leave her home unprotected, but she offered her services for rest, respite, or use of her curative spells to help us. This seemed a good time to rest for the night and converse with the fey spirit. She had some very useful advice for us. She mentioned that flying and teleportation magic may not work here, due to the permeating evil energy. It covers the edge of the Ice Fens and extends well into the city. As long as we maintain our fasting, we will be able to see the magical trail that will lead us to our intended destination. Beyond the valley we are heading to, a golden road leads to the city. There are a few naturally flying creatures, including dragons, in the area, so we should be well-prepared for them. If we should find a way to leave and later return to this area, we will not need to wait for a full moon, but we will have to fast again to attune our minds, bodies, and spirits to this thin boundary between planes. Otherwise, one would wander aimlessly. She recognized that some of us were using magic to offset the effects of altitude sickness. She advised us that we would have to either continuously use magical means every day to offset the lack of air or else take time the appropriate time (possibly weeks) to acclimate to the rarefied atmosphere. Every time we use magic to maintain our health, the acclimation process resets itself. Our journey to Xin-Shalast still requires several hundred miles of travel on foot, so we might as well become acclimated on the way.
It sounds like we still have a long, arduous journey ahead of us. Knowing we have a path to follow, however, boosts my spirits in the hope that our long-held adventure is nearing the end. From what we were able to gather from Svevinka, we may even be able to find strange allies within Xin-Shalast to help us thwart Karzoug’s schemes.
- E