The Black Cabin stands silent in the thinning mist. Macreadis gone, Bagheera gone, and the air still humming with the echo of the ring device’s brilliance. Inala steps into the workshop and looks around inquiringly. Snow lies thick over beams, planks, and shattered walls; the whole place feels abandoned long before the fire ever touched it. After a last look at the incomprehensible blueprints, the Goliath follows the others outside.
The group turns their attention to the surroundings and notice that wherever Arassost stands, the snow melts. At first it’s subtle: a soft sinking of white powder, a darkening patch beneath his boots. But when he pulls out the device and holds it experimentally to the side, the effect becomes undeniable. The metal feels cold in his hand, yet when he sets it down, the snow around it recedes in a slow, deliberate circle.
Illustration: World Anvil
They stand on a high plateau overlooking the ravine, a natural vantage point. As the mist continues to thin, a wide radius of clarity opens around them, hundreds of meters of crisp, untouched air. The stone circle they visited earlier becomes visible again. Birds circle overhead in a strange, looping pattern, never leaving the invisible boundary created by the ring’s presence. No other animals stir. Even the wind feels gentler here, as if the cold itself hesitates.
In search of other magical stone circles or other sacred places, the party follows the river north, trudging through the deepening snow. The mist continues to fade around them, but the world remains eerily quiet. Thalion glances upward, but the birds are gone. When he looks back, he sees movement far behind them: distant animals returning to life, but the silence remains unnerving.
At the fork in the river, the effect of the ring device begins to weaken and the melting gradually slows. The cold returns, sharp, merciless, and absolute. The mist rolls back in like a living thing. The sudden drop in temperature hits them hard, and Thalion staggers under the weight of exhaustion.
The Ranger searches for a place to rest, but the night is brutal. The cold gnaws at their bones. After a short debate, they decide to turn back. The return journey is worse. Though they are walking downhill again, the wind cuts deeper, the snow grows heavier, and every step feels like wading through ice. When they finally reach the cabin again, the melting effect is gone. The rings lie dormant.
Illustration: World Anvil
But something else has changed. Fresh footprints mark the snow: several sets of human bootprints. Thalion crouches, studying them. Two to five individuals, heading toward the cabin and then southward again. Inala tries to read more from the tracks, but the details are lost to the shifting snow.
They follow the trail. Three distinct sets, a few hours old. Then something unsettling: massive bear tracks crossing through them. The prints are fresh, formed around the same time, heading in the same direction. All of a sudden, the human tracks vanish completely, but the bear tracks continue, though deeper. Thalion can tell from the disturbed snow that the animal has been running.
Everyone except Inala feels exhaustion dragging at their limbs.They take a short rest. Ara flips through the Book of Norse Myths, searching for meaning. Stories speak of one person riding on a bear, but never three. Such things belong to druids, shapeshifters, and old magic. There are tales of dragons ridden by mortals, but nothing that explains the tracks they saw.
When they rise again, the bear tracks have vanished. They press on toward Lonelywood.
They continue northeast, searching for Macreadus’ cabin. The weather worsens as the shelter of the circle fades. The voices stop. They follow what path they can, constantly pushed by the wind. The goliath suffers less; the others become more and more exhausted.
Thalion climbs a hill to scout for a place to rest and suddenly sees the perfect place: a lodge perched above a gorge, standing on wooden stilts. Abandoned. Silent. Sinister. Two stone chimneys rise from the structure. The western half hangs over the ravine. Steps lead up to a snow-covered walkway. They pass an outhouse half-buried in snow. Arassost peeks through a hole: parchment, used as toilet paper, everywhere.
Illustration: Reddit
Thalion climbs up the steps and continues along the wooden walkway attached to the house, while Skye and Inala follow. Frost coats every surface. One of the windows is shattered. The ranger and his snow leopard jump over a gap in the walkway and step into a large room. The smell of burned wood, flesh, and wine hangs in the air. Snow has blown in through the damaged roof. Everything inside is charred, even the table, where only the remains of a book survive. A burned skeleton lies beside it.
The ranger kneels to examine the bones and finds an object: a large ring holding a black stone. He picks it up. The coal‑like center is glowing, radiating heat. When Thalion puts the device on the table, without warning, the sphere erupts in blinding light. Thalion is thrown back. Bagheera is caught in the blast and turns to ash. Then the ring’s glow fades.
Skye vaults across the gap and finds Thalion scorched and trembling, standing beside the heap of ash that used to be his companion. A second skeleton lies nearby. The others hurry in after him. Thalion tells them to stay back. The adventurers fall silent as they take in the remains of what, only moments ago, had been a young and courageous snow leopard. Inala gently rests a comforting hand on Thalion’s shoulder. The others exchange quiet, troubled glances, a small, wordless acknowledgment of the loss.
Ilustration: Etsy
Arassost studies the scorched remains of the tome and notices letters still visible: Ether. Then he examines the human skeleton. Most of the flesh and clothing have burned away, but he finds a golden amulet depicting two hands holding the sun: the symbol of Lathander. It radiates faint magic. He turns his attention to the ring but cannot determine its purpose. He does note that it consists of two interlocking bands.
Inala moves into the next room. A fireplace, two bookcases, scattered blueprints, and a tiny clay figurine fill the space. She calls the wizard over. He cannot identify the figurine, but he can read the blueprints: someone here attempted to build a machine capable of controlling the weather. One of the designs resembles the ring.
Thalion checks a small side room and finds barrels of sweet berry summer wine, all frozen solid. Another room appears unused.
Inala explores further and discovers a bedroom. Near the hearth lies an intact scroll: a letter from Copper Knobberknocker to Macreadus about the ‘Summer Star’ project, with which he was clearly obsessed. Three is better than two. She hands the scroll to Arassost. The wizard studies the blueprints again, which describe the ring device. Copper had been right: a third ring is required. This version could never have worked.
Arassost examines the clay figurine once more, but its purpose remains unclear.
Skye and Inala settle down to rest while the others take watch. The research here is valuable and interesting, and the solution is near. A skilled mage might be able to complete the device. Arassost takes the deactivated ring with him.
There is nothing left for them in this valley, except Bagheera’s ashes and the ranger’s grief.
At dawn, the party heads toward Lonelywood and continues farther north. In the middle of the frozen lake, several boats lie trapped in the ice. There is far less activity than usual; the townsfolk have to cut holes in the ice to fish. Eventually, the group reaches the woodcutters’ settlement of Lonelywood, a remote cluster of 100 to 150 houses, little more than scattered cabins in the snow. They press on, and the wind grows even stronger, its direction unpredictable. They leave the forest behind and step onto an open plain northwest of Kelvin’s Cairn. The visibility drops so low that they can barely see anything at all. The road slopes steadily upward.
They decide to make camp. Thalion and Bagheera take first watch. The stars are faint behind the swirling clouds, and the wind howls across the plain. The camp is sheltered as best as possible. Thalion listens more closely to the wind and suddenly hears his name carried on it. “Thalion… Thalion… Thalion…” Then: “Skye… Skye… Skye…” “Arassost… Arassost… Arassost…” “Inalalalala…” He does nothing at first.
Arassost wakes for the second watch. Again, the wind whispers: “Inala… Inala…” He steps outside and looks at the ranger. “What are you babbling about?” Thalion says quietly, “There are voices on the wind.” Ara is skeptical until the wind carries a sentence: “Do not mistake obedience for righteousness. The just path is chosen, not commanded.” The wizard listens carefully. These voices are not sentient: they are echoes, fragments of things once spoken. “This is not Auril,” he murmurs. “It’s older. A magical residue that refuses to fade. Something powerful happened here.” He takes over the watch, while Thalion retreats into reverie. The echoes continue, drifting from the north.
By morning, Inala and Skye awaken. The wind has calmed somewhat, but they, too, hear the names and the sentence. Skye freezes. She recognizes the words. She once wrote them herself… and never shared them with anyone. She’s slightly creeped out.
They move on, tense and alert, still accompanied by the whispering wind. They climb a hill to get a better view. Thalion looks around, but sees no huts, no smoke. Nothing. Only several black stones in the distance, and a wide stone circle with a pedestal at its center. Arassost squints and sees something fluttering around the central stone: a black shape, like a cloth, but not tied to anything. The others see nothing. Ara warns them: an evil entity may be present. Circles like this often serve as occult sites with sources of magic. They can be extremely powerful.
Thalion and Inala take the lead, Skye and Arassost close behind. They trudge through the snow for twenty minutes until they reach the stone circle. Whatever once stood on the pedestal has been broken off. Shadowy figures drift around the outer stones, never crossing into the circle.
The weather here is surprisingly calm compared to the surrounding region. Arassost studies the formation. It is ancient, magical. “This might be Netherese, a society so big they thought they didn’t need the gods. They were the most magically advanced the world has ever known,” Arassost explains. “They built cities in the sky, and their artifacts are unimaginably powerful. Those artifacts are still being searched for even now.”
He casts a spell and summons an unseen servant, sending it into the circle to investigate. The wraith-like beings do not react until a sudden crackling blast of arcane energy strikes the servant. The spell ends.
The party cautiously circles around the stones, approaching from the other side. At ten to fifteen meters, they now see them clearly: two figures in ancient clothing, eyes glowing bright blue. Coldlight Walkers! The pedestal in the center has been broken by mortal tools. Someone hacked at it. Arassost suspects it was once a source of energy.
As they debate their next move, one of the wraiths suddenly turns toward Thalion and glides forward. Skye reacts first, casting Bless over herself, Thalion, and Inala.
Illustration: Forgotten Realms Wiki
The Coldlight Walker lashes out at Skye, but she slips aside and counters with a quick strike. Not as strong as she hoped, but enough to make an impact.
Thalion marks the creature with Hunter’s Mark and fires an arrow, while Inala charges in. The creature’s chilling aura bites into her, but she pushes through and lands a hit. Arassost attempts a ranged spell, but it goes wide; Chill Touch fizzles uselessly in the cold air.
Skye whispers her Vow of Enmity and strikes with radiant force. The wraith screams, hovering for a moment before releasing a pulse of freezing energy. Inala and Bagheera are caught in it and shiver uncontrollably.
Thalion sends Bagheera forward. The leopard bites and claws. Inala follows with another strike, and Arassost’s necrotic magic coils around the wraith’s neck. Skye steps in with one more blow.
The wraith finally collapses, its glowing eyes fading to nothing. Only its tattered clothes drift to the snow.
The second wraith glides closer and unleashes a beam of cold light, striking everyone except Skye. Inala takes the worst of it. Thalion fires an arrow, Bagheera leaps in with claws, and the wizard casts a spell that goes wide. Skye answers with Searing Smite and moves in.
The fight grinds on. Skye’s next strike misses. Thalion pulls back long enough to heal Bagheera, who then exposes himself to a slam attack, but Skye steps in and shields him just in time. Bagheera retaliates with another claw attack. Inala lands a heavy blow, and Arassost’s necrotic magic finally connects, though Skye’s follow‑up strike misses again.
A wave of cold washes over Skye, Bagheera, and Thalion, and the wraith slams into Skye once more.
Thalion calls Bagheera back. Inala swings and misses. The wizard responds with a fireball, blasting the creature. Skye is hurt but still standing. Thalion fires another shot, Inala follows with another solid hit, and Arassost drives the flaming sphere into the wraith.
The creature ignites and dissolves into drifting ash.
Skye approaches the stone circle, scanning the ground for markings. Ancient magic hums faintly in the air. Near the pedestal, a mound of snow catches her eye. Something protrudes from it, as if a device once stood there before being torn away. They mark the location on their map.
The wizard steps into the circle. The atmosphere shifts immediately. A crackling field of power surrounds the stones, and the air feels thick with old magic. Half-buried in the snow, he spots the top of a lens. As he moves closer, a wave of unease washes over him. The entire place is saturated with raw arcane energy.
A sudden jolt hits him. He pauses, then another shock ripples through him. Determined, he dives into the snow and pulls free the prism‑like lens. He leaps back out of the circle, and the moment he crosses the boundary, the whispering voices return. Inside the circle, there had been only silence. Arassost lifts the lens and peers through it. It’s a device meant for studying the stars.
The adventurers discuss their next steps. Thalion studies the map of Icewind Dale: Sunblight lies to the southwest, Yarl Moot to the west of Easthaven. They decide to find out whether Macreadis is still missing and if the road to his cabin is still blocked. The journey north is bleak. Even fewer people travel the roads now, and the towns feel more isolated than ever. They follow the main road, pushing through the biting wind, and after a full day of travel, they reach Bryn Shander.
The Northlook Inn is still warm and lively, at least, as lively as the Ten‑Towns can manage these days. The bard sings the same familiar tune, and the talking knucklehead trout still recites its rhyme:
There’s a place I like to go Farther up the river’s flow; Where it is, I do not know; Must be under all that snow.
Illustration: WorldAnvil
Scramsax greets them with a tired smile. There’s less celebration than before; people gather mostly for warmth and company. The party has just dug into their food and ale when the Sheriff steps inside. He shakes off his cloak and approaches them with a mug in hand. “Greetings, adventurers. You’re staying in the region longer than expected.” He sits down. “I’ve heard you’ve been helpful. Still willing to contribute more?” He makes the sign of Thalos. “I’m starting to think we’re cursed.” Ara replies calmly, “Strange things are happening indeed.” Skye asks, “Have you spoken to the priests?” The Sheriff nods. “We are cursed. If we offer more to Aurel, things will improve. Every town should contribute: food, or a human sacrifice, but they refuse.” He sighs. “I’m grateful people want to look into this. Whether it’s divine intervention or something else, I don’t know. But this cold isn’t natural.” Inala leans forward. “Is there anything specific you need help with?” “No,” the Sheriff says. “I try to keep crime down. Sacrifice is a last resort, but nothing else seems to work.” Thalion quietly says he doesn’t believe sacrifice will help and asks whether the road to Lonelywood is open again. The Sheriff finishes his ale and stands. He still doesn’t know if the road is passable. Without another word, he leaves the inn. Thalion heads outside to train Bagheera.
The next morning, the group visits the House of the Morninglord. Mishan leads the service as she prays for the return of the light. When the townsfolk drift out, Copper approaches them with a warm nod, pleased to see familiar faces, especially Skye. They ask about Macreadis, but Copper has heard nothing, and that silence worries him. When Inala checks whether the road is open again, he confirms it is, which only deepens his concern: Macreadis should have sent word by now. With that, the decision is made: they will head straight to the lodge above Lonelywood. Skye offers Copper a hopeful farewell before they step back into the snow.
They walk with determination, the weather worsening with every mile. From Bryn Shander, they travel to Targos, passing the wooden palisade and the largest fishing fleet of the Ten‑Towns. They turn right toward Termalaine and soon see the curve of the harbor.
Illustration: Forgotten Realms Wiki
At their stop at The Blue Clam, a teenage girl called Marta takes their order. The stew is rich with meat, and Marta is cheerful and hardworking despite the hardships. Thalion asks, “Any more trouble with the kobolds?” Marta shakes her head. “They’re much better off now. Their reputation isn’t deserved. They know a lot about the mines.” Inala asks, “Has anything else happened?” Marta smiles. “We can talk more when my shift ends.”
Later, she joins them. “There’s always something happening. You did hear about the wizard who burned? He was supposed to be a member of the Arcane Brotherhood. Most likely, they are involved in what is happening now. He knew too much and was deliberately eliminated by his enemies, the Zhentarim.” Marta becomes fully absorbed in her own story. “But what secret did he know…”
“Are there other sources confirming this?” Arassost casually asks. “Indeed,” Marta says. “I heard it from a reliable source: the Battlehammer dwarves. They passed through five days ago.”
Inala takes a sip of her ale. “Any idea what the secret was?” “No,” Marta says, “but he must have talked. Some of the founders of this town might have been Zhentarim, they still have activities here.” The barbarian nods, then asks, “Anyone else from Lonelywood?” “Yes,” Marta says. “The weather there has gone completely mad. Mountains appearing out of nowhere. Cabins rising and disappearing in the mist. Distances not making sense.”
Ara leans in. “Don’t you think the Brotherhood will find out you’re talking openly about them, accusing them of everything?” The poor girl goes pale when she really looks at Arassost, a wizard himself. “You’re right. I’m terribly sorry, you’re right!” She disappears into the back and does not return, unintentionally intimidated.
That night, the party gathers to discuss the ghost and plan their next move. Skye hands the bloodstained book to Arassost. At first glance, it looks like poetry, but the wizard senses something more: a magical layer. He recognizes it as an enchanted spellbook, its illusion intact even though its owner is dead. Arassost cannot break the magic, so he stows the book in his backpack.
Thalion and Inala stake out the harbor – Thalion from a rooftop opposite the frozen ferry, Bagheera at his side, while Inala waits in the alley behind. The ferry door opens and closes, fresh tracks appearing in the snow, but no one seems to be around. The tracks lead into town, then split toward the Town Hall. Thalion climbs down. They try to follow the snowy imprints but lose them in the crowd. Still, the evidence is clear.
Back at the inn, Thalion shares his plan. He wants Bagheera to catch the scent of the footprints so she can track the duergar. Together, they return to the pier, and Thalion commands: “Seek!” The leopard sniffs the snow and pads toward the ferry. They follow, Thalion smoothing the snow again to erase signs of their passage.
Skye approaches the dark boat. The cabin seems large enough for cargo and crew, about ten feet across. The half-elf climbs aboard, where footprints cluster thickly. The door facing the pier is locked. As Skye rattles it, Inala strides up the pier and yanks the door open. Skye peers inside. Four sleeping bags lie on the floor, with small crates of rations and, in the center, a large parchment roll. All is silent, save for Inala’s boots crunching in the snow as the barbarian returns to stand guard at the pier, moonlight glinting on the frost. Arassost also remains outside, watching the shadows.
Thalion climbs aboard and holds the door as Skye steps in and grabs the parchment. It is a map of Icewind Dale. In the south, Easthaven bears heavy markings, with smaller symbols and question marks scattered across the tundra. Caer-Konig is marked. In the hills south of Easthaven, two names stand out: Sunblight and Yarls. Another base lies near Caer-Dineval.
Just as Skye is about to slip the rolled parchment into her pack, a grey shape lunges from the corner of the cabin. A duergar strikes with a psionic blade, catching Skye flat-footed. Thalion reacts instantly and aims an arrow at the dwarf. The duergar fixes his gaze on Thalion. The ranger suddenly swings his bow toward Inala, who rushes to their aid. Confused, Thalion shakes his head, lowers his bow, and refocuses on the dwarf. He casts Hunter’s Mark and fires again, hitting his target. The duergar slashes Skye once more; she collapses.
Arassost hurls a fuzzy object through the doorway. It hits the floor and transforms into a boar, charging the duergar, but misses. Inala rushes to the entrance and sees Skye down, an angry dwarf looming over the parchment. Thalion kneels and casts a healing spell; Skye stirs but remains prone, whispering a prayer to heal herself further. The duergar lashes out at Thalion, and the boar retaliates, tusks tearing flesh. Inala swings her greataxe, but the space is too cramped, and she misses. Bagheera leaps in, claws ripping twice into the duergar.
Illustration: 5e Tools
Bleeding and desperate, the duergar snarls in Dwarvish: “Too many.” His gaze locks on the scroll. The dwarf shrinks, disengages, and slips through a crack in the door, vanishing onto the deck. Arassost commands the boar to pursue and rushes outside. Bagheera bounds after the fleeing dwarf, Thalion and Inala close behind. The leopard pounces, biting hard. A strangled cry pierces the night. The duergar expands to full size, blood soaking the snow. After a few shudders in the snow, he appears very dead.
Inala searches the corpse and finds a healing potion, a potion of elemental resistance, and a potion of cold resistance. She drags the body back to the cabin, where Skye has picked up the parchment once more. They scour the cabin, taking rations and supplies. Skye and Inala return to the inn. Thalion follows, but not before setting the cabin on fire, without regard for the surroundings. The flames spread to the pier, and townsfolk rush to contain it, saving Easthaven from disaster and the party from possible local judgement.
When morning dawns, Thalion, Skye, and Arassost head to the Town Hall to speak with Speaker Danneth. Inala keeps her distance, still simmering from their last encounter.
Thalion recounts the night’s events, but Speaker Danneth frowns. “And what about evidence of their plans?”
“I’ll get to that,” Thalion replies. “We tracked them back to the ferry, and there was a fight on the boat.” Skye places the scroll on the table: a map marked with crosses and question marks. “This led us here. The battle at Caer-Konig, the tracks, everything points to Easthaven. We burned the ferry to force them out.” Her voice hardens. “Is the chamber with the statue secure?”
Danneth nods. “The guards are extra alert, and we’ve covered the statue with a tarp.”
Skye gestures to the southern markings on the map. “What about this area, Yarls?”
Danneth leans back, eyes narrowing. “Our barbarian guards have heard of it. Long ago, frost giants ruled that land. They held moots and great councils to decide wars and the fate of the North. Now, only ghosts linger. If you speak to that crazy barbarian of yours, she’ll believe it.”
Skye slams her hand on the table, voice sharp. “Take this seriously.”
Danneth exhales slowly. “Consider me warned.”
Skye slides ten gold coins across the table. “Compensation for the pier.” When she offers to return the book, the Town Speaker admits it is useless to him and that they can keep the book.
The party steps back into the cold, where Inala waits. Together, they return to the tavern. Over ale and firelight, they share what they’ve learned. Inala’s eyes gleam. Her tribe reveres that land: a place to prove yourself, to see if you are worthy.
The plan is set: next time, they march south. Thalion rises and heads to the market. He buys a sack of flour. “For invisible dwarves,” he grins.
Following Durth’s letter, the party sets out for Easthaven, braving a storm that lashes the tundra with icy winds. Guided by Thalion, their Ranger, they keep the Spine of the World in sight and press forward through the blizzard.
Suddenly, manic laughter echoes across the frozen plains, feral, animalistic, from multiple throats. Six gnolls emerge from the white expanse, yellow eyes gleaming, ribs protruding from emaciated frames. One raises a spear and shrieks: “Meat! I see meat!”
Illustration: Squarespace-cdn
Thalion strikes first, shooting an arrow that staggers a gnoll. Arassost unleashes a spell: a deafening clang that drops one foe, blood streaming from its ears. Skye steps forward, longsword flashing, while Inala swings and misses – repeatedly. The gnolls close in, biting and stabbing with savage hunger. Bagheera leaps into the fray, claws rending flesh. Skye invokes Helm’s blessing, her blade cleaving a gnoll’s head clean off. Inala roars in appreciation and finally strikes true herself, the Goliath’s mighty blow sending another head spinning through the snow. One by one, the beasts fall, until the last chokes on Arassost’s poisonous magic and collapses atop Thalion.
Among the corpses, Inala finds another chilling sign of duergar presence: armor patched with duergar steel, bearing the mark of Clan Sunblight: a pickaxe in front of an iron fist. Their stronghold lies somewhere in Icewind Dale. The party rests briefly, then pushes on through the storm toward Caer-Dineval and beyond. By nightfall, they reach Easthaven.
Inside the cozy warmth of the White Lady Inn, familiar laughter greets them: Rinaldo, ever the entertainer. Bartaban, the jovial innkeeper, welcomes them with wine, beer, and a sparse stew. After a night’s rest, they make for the Town Hall, a sturdy two-story building flying Easthaven’s banner.
Oil paintings line the walls; a knucklehead trout hangs proudly in the main hall. An elderly receptionist ushers them into a grand chamber where Speaker Danneth Waylen awaits, his face drawn with fatigue. “Welcome. How can I assist you?”
They speak of duergar activity. Danneth confirms their ill repute but denies direct encounters. He reveals a troubling fact: Easthaven holds a cache of chardalyn, recovered from a shattered ship’s figurehead, now stored in the Town Hall.
When asked about the frozen ferry, Danneth confirms it lies locked in ice. Inala requests to see the chardalyn. They are led to a chamber dominated by a towering black statue: a winged demon carved in ominous detail. Its presence unsettles Arassost. Inala urges the Speaker to double the guard and watch out for duergar.
Later on, Thalion and Arassost scout the area. Thalion looks for tracks similar to those seen in Caer-Konig, and finds a well-trodden path toward the ferry. Tracks of five pairs of heavy boots, far too many for an unused vessel. Thalion smooths the snow to erase them and plans to come back later to see if the tracks were old or new.
They return to the Town Hall to check the security. There’s only one main door that leads into the Town Hall, though there are several windows. During a tour of the Town Hall, Skye explores the upper library, finding a bloodstained book of crude poetry signed Dzaan, the Red Wizard who they saw burned for his crimes in Easthaven. The Speaker allows her to keep it, explaining Dzaan’s sinister rituals among the dead. Skye plans to return the book later.
They walk downstairs to the cellar, offices and storage spaces. Four large, muscular barbarians with tribal tattoos sit playing cards. A large gate leads to the cell block where several prisoners are behind bars: the people who tried to avoid sacrifices, thieves, and others.
Danneth promises that the barbarians will guard the statue and excuses himself: he must attend a meeting. The Speaker leaves them in the chamber with the statue of Errtu, the winged demon. Arassost notices a woman bound to the statue, long white hair, head bowed, sobbing. She wasn’t there before. He calls the others. Inala recognizes the description from the séance: the Lady of the Lake. The wizard tilts her head back, revealing a skull. It falls, and a ghastly visage emerges. The ghost’s horrifying presence ages Ara instantly; he flees in terror.
Illustration: Fey Ancestry
Inala, consumed by rage, lashes out with her greataxe and… strikes the statue with all her might. The ghost’s claws rake her flesh, freezing her muscles. Thalion calls out, only to be seized by fear, and retreats. Bagheera stands firm. Skye invokes Bless, raises her holy symbol, and denounces the spirit, but it is not affected. Thalion recovers from fear and fires an arrow… which grazes Inala. She spins toward him and sees that the ranger is still trembling. When the ghost’s claws attack Inala again, the Goliath retreats, unable to do anything useful. Skye en Thalion disengage, sealing the chamber behind them.
Outside, Arassost’s terror finally ebbs. Thalion warns the receptionist: “No one enters that room.” Inala drags the Speaker from his meeting and forces him to see the chamber, but the ghost is gone. Danneth mocks her tale and Inala storms out, fury unspent. Skye orders the guards to ensure no one enters the room.
The party finds a quiet empty chamber with two doors. In the room to the southwest, an iron lever juts from the wall like a warning. Inala lights a torch, its flickering glow casting long shadows. Skye continues, each step echoing through the cave like a drumbeat of fate.
They enter a vast chamber: a cell block. Several cells hang open, their doors ajar. A few remain locked. In one, a duergar and a spore servant lie in a deadly embrace, clearly slain by each other. In another, a lone fungus soldier sits silently, unmoving.
Skye ascends a staircase tucked in the corner. At the top, small rooms flank the common area, where sacks and crates are stashed. The paladin searches the space and finds blankets, rations, and tucked among them, some valuables: pearls, a necklace, woodcarver’s tools, a potion of healing, and 73 silver pieces. The half-elf returns to the others and hands the potion to Inala.
They press forward into another room. Bagheera sniffs the air, growls, and suddenly slashes at nothing. An invisible foe. The leopard bites and claws wildly, until footsteps echo and someone flees. Thalion fires an arrow down the hallway. It vanishes into the dark. The footsteps grow distant.
They head back to the southwest room, with two passages. Skye steps into one… and the iron lever in the far end of the room clicks. Spikes shoot from above and below. She dodges, barely escaping harm, but is now trapped, a rigid grid of iron bars blocking her way.
And the half-elf is not alone. From the darkness, a dwarf emerges, his eyes fanatical, burning with zeal. A purple glow extends from his arm toward Skye. His flesh morphs into a sharp spike. He attacks, and psychic pain floods the palandin’s mind. She feels it inside her.
Illustration: 5e Tools
“You shouldn’t have come here,” he growls. Skye, unfazed, replies: “I agree.” She casts a spell and strikes, but the dwarf’s armor absorbs the blow. Again the duergar attacks, now both arms twist into a purple spike. He lunges at Skye, but misses twice.
Inala charges the iron bars and tries to smash through. Arrassost casts Enchantment, but the duergar resists, his mind too strong. Thalion fires and, despite the duergar’s partial cover, manages to hit the dwarf with his arrow.
Skye sidesteps toward the lever and attacks again, but misses. The duergar retaliates and frost damage sears through her. Inala breaks the remaining bars and steps inside. Arrassost moves to the opening and casts Color Spray. The duergar is unfazed by the dazzling burst of light. Distracted by the lights, Thalion fires again but misses. The paladin channels Hunter’s Mark and strikes at her foe, scoring a hit, but then the duergar begins to grow, his body enlarges grotesquely. He charges Arrassost, shouting: “You don’t understand the glory of it, the power found in the ice. None of you do.” Arrassost dodges, holding his ground. Inala takes the opportunity, swings her weapon and lands a brutal hit on the duergar.
The dwarf bolts toward the drawbridge, with both the goliath and ranger in pursuit. The duergar turns toward Inala and Thalion, eyes blazing with hatred. “You will learn soon enough. Your doom soars on dragon wings!” Thalion replies with an arrow, but the duergar takes a massive step and his form distorts. In a blink, he reappears 30 feet away, descending from the air. Thalion fires one last arrow and hears another pained outcry, but now, the distance is too great. The duergar vanishes into the shadows.
Thalion and Inala return to the others and share the duergar’s strange parting words with their comrades. Beyond the chamber with the deadly lever trap, they discover another room. A stone bed rests against the wall, and a desk sits cluttered with shards and crumbled papers. Colors shimmer from a pouch on the desk, shifting hypnotically from blue to green to red. Arrassost reaches forward and pulls out Caer-Konig’s missing lantern! Shimmering fragments are scattered across the desk. Inala leans in, examining the papers. One blueprint shows the outline of a mechanical dragon made of crystal shards, sketched with precision. A crystal dragon, carrier of dwarven dark magic.
Illustration: Pinterest
Skye opens a folded letter.
Brother, You will find me on the frozen ferry in Easthaven. From this new base, the search for chardalyn continues. Long may our father reign over this dark land! ~Durth
Inala gathers everything: the letter, the crystals, the blueprint. They press on, while Arassost’s mind dwells on the mindflayer’s shard that is in his posession. Its aura is unmistakable evil and corrupted. A second door leads to a frost-covered guardroom, nearly empty. Stairs descend into a chamber filled with equipment. The paladin and barbarian clean out the armory, taking scale mails, javelins and climber kits. A hallway leads to the bunker, inside only a discarded crossbow. After a short rest in the main keep, they set out again, heading back to Caer-Konig. They are all still covered in ogre and other gore, except Thalion, who somehow stayed clean.
They return to The Hook, Line and Sinker to deliver the recovered lantern. Inala hands the bundle to Arassost with a wink. “You can take it to Elly.” “You found it!” Elly exclaims, throwing her arms around the wizard in a joyful hug. Skye gets one too. Her sister rushes outside, thrilled that “that thing” is finally back. Skye smiles. “The townspeaker wasn’t crazy.” She gives Elly a gold piece to fix her a bath. “For bringing this back, you won’t have to pay,” Elly replies warmly. Corrie prepares a hearty stew with thick bread and one of the last bottles of wine. The tavern glows with laughter and firelight. A warm, cheerful evening after a hard-won victory. The next morning Skye gives Elly four gold pieces.
The party visits the townspeaker’s house. Trovus is outside, no bottle in hand. The dragonborn looks clear-headed again. “We found the invisible dwarves. They’re working with a group from Easthaven, searching for chardalyn.” The Speaker’s eyes narrow. “Did you make them pay?” “We most certainly did, but the duergar are still out there. The town must stay alert.” Trovus nods solemnly. “Thank you. Until next time.”
That morning, the adventurers share a filling breakfast and the wizard has a conversation with Elly. “No travelers come through anymore, and items keep vanishing. More townfolks feel eyes on them. I would have taken the threat seriously, if it wasn’t for Trovus’ drinking.”
Just moments later, the townspeaker strides in. “What are we waiting for?” he asks, eyes bright with purpose.
He leads them outside. “Here’s where the lantern hung.” The snow is trampled and packed with footprints. Thalion kneels to study the tracks. They do not lead to the lantern’s stand but away from the village, toward Kelvin’s Cairn.
Arassost waves his hand and checks for magical residue. “No sign of teleportation,” he reports.
Thalion climbs onto the nearest roof and finds tracks that continue along the rooftops. The thieves indeed used this route! He follows them, with Inala staying below, and Skye and Ara fanning out to assist.
Thalion follows the tracks. They merge with larger ones, belonging to an ogre. The tracks remain fresh as they press toward Kelvin’s Cairn.
A blocky stronghold, bereft of warmth or charm, juts out of a hillside in a rough crescent shape. Only part of it is visible, the rest is buried in the snow. A gentle slope leads up to a large double door that serves as the main entrance. A frozen waterway glints nearby. Ogre’s tracks, alongside a handful of humanoid prints, lead to the gate.
In the middle of the slope is a snow covered bunker, arrow slits line the sides. Thalion scouts forward, slipping into a crouch. Through one of the openings, he sees a grayish duergar with a crossbow, looking a bit bored. He hasn’t spotted Thalion in the gloom.
Illustration: bg3 wiki
The ranger casts Hunter’s Mark and fires an arrow, then a second one. The duergar collapses.
Arassost rummages in his satchel. He pulls something out and throws it toward Thalion. A weasel appears halfway up the mountainside, with the command to attack whatever’s inside the bunker. The little animal enters, while Skye moves forward and picks a position to the side.
Inside the bunker, a second duergar with shield and pickaxe rushes into a tunnel and slams the door shut behind him. The bunker is now empty and the party stands outside.
Two barricaded openings have been hewn from the rock of the stronghold, iron bars glinting in the dim light. The barbarian moves forward, hugging the northern wall for cover. As she approaches the openings, a crossbow bolt whistles through the air, then deflects off the stone. She reacts instantly, leaping aside. Behind the bars, a gray duergar with wild hair reloads and fires again, but misses. Panicked, the dwarf retreats, fumbling for another weapon. Inala grabs the bars and tears them apart with brute force. The gap is now wide enough for small creatures to pass through. She quickly alerts the others to the fact that there’s a dwarf inside, and that they’ve been discovered.
Thalion sends Bagheera forward and follows. He sees the goliath working the bars, muscles tense.
Arasost moves up. The weasel crawls through the gap in the bars and climbs the duergar’s leg, sinking its teeth into his flesh.
Although the duergar is distracted by the weasel, he still grabs a horn and blows it. The sound echoes off the mountain walls. He bolts toward the guardroom door and disappears into the hallway. The weasel tries to bite again but can’t get a grip.
Skye remains alert, holding her position.
Inala rushes headlong to the large double doors and pulls them open. Behind them, a massive drawbridge is being raised. She shouts the warning to her companions and Thalion readies his weapon. Guttural voices echo, then fall silent.
Inala hears heavy groaning. Chains rattle behind the wall. She peeks around the corner and is rewarded with a duergar’s javelin. She immediately retaliates, throwing her own javelin, scoring a hit of her own. The duergar grunts.
Arassost joins Inala and casts a spell to see through the doors. He spots the chains and pulley system, with an unmoving figure standing near it: an undead ogre. The duergar who escaped the bunker earlier, is standing next to the creature.
Illustration: D&D Beyond
Thalion notices another duergar appear out of nowhere, unusual tall, who hurls a javelin at the wizard. Fortunately Arassost’s Shield spell kicks into life and deflects it. Thalion counterattacks and fires an arrow at the large dwarf.
Arassost casts Invisible Servant and commands it to pull the lever of the drawbridge. The ogre notices the movement, howls, and swings wildly. The pulley releases the chains, and the drawbridge rattles back down. The ogre lunges for the lever, trying to grab the pulley.
Thalion and the large duergar are engaged in a ranged battle, arrows and javelins flying back and forth.
Skye steps forward. Facing the duergars and the ogre, she casts Bane on both dwarves, weakening their resolve.
Inala jumps across the pit that looms in the depth, and charges into the stronghold, aiming to destroy the pulley. She swings at the small duergar but misses. Fortunately, he misses too. The goliath is now the only one on the inside of the main keep.
The ogre tries to raise the bridge again, but the invisible servant resists. Arassost casts Flaming Sphere, a 5-foot fireball aimed at the ogre’s face. It scorches but barely hurts him. The ogre keeps cranking the pulley.
The duergar near Inala grows in size as well and swings a pickaxe. Thalion quickly fires an arrow past the rising bridge and hits the duergar near Inala. The dwarf screams in pain. A javelin, aimed at the ranger, misses.
Skye moves forward, stands before the drawbridge, and utters a Vow of Enmity, using her channel divinity. The paladin then throws a javelin at the ogre, taking some of the undead creature’s unnatural life force.
Inala enters a rage and attacks the duergar, hitting him hard. The dwarf spits blood, his beard soaked. His fighting spirit remains, but awe creeps in. Again, the duergar attacks Inala. “Die!” he screams, and lands a blow, but the barbarian’s rage absorbs the pain. The dwarf tries to flee, but Inala reacts with an opportunity attack. Fueled by fury, she strikes brutally. The duergar dies.
Arrassost redirects the fireball to the other duergar, who screams in agony. After Thalion targets him with an arrow, he flees into another room.
Skye throws another javelin at the undead ogre. It sticks in his flesh but barely affects him. Inala joins the attack with her greataxe and strikes another brutal blow at the ogre. Its belly splits open and guts spill out. The stench is overwhelming. Finally the ogre releases the pulley, after which the invisible servant lowers the bridge again.
The wizard redirects the sphere toward the chamber entrance.
The ogre targets Inala, grabs a javelin and tries to skewer her. From outside, Thalion and Skye fire at the undead ogre, while Inala hits another heavy blow.
Arassost is finally able to cross the bridge and enters the chamber where the second duergar retreated. The chamber is pitch black, no torches lit, but duergar and elves alike see perfectly in the dark. Two Spore Servants, bloated with fungal growths, shamble toward him. He aims the fireball at them and both take damage. One of them attacks the wizard, wounding the high elf.
Illustration: 5e Tools
Thalion sends Bagheera to attack one of the spore servants, while Skye draws her sword and also moves in. When the snow leopard is attacked, the half-elf protects him with her shield and absorbs part of the damage, then kills the spore servant.
The goliath is still engaged with the undead. The ogre strikes with a javelin and Inala retaliates with her axe. After another massive strike, the ogre lets out one last moan. What remains is a pile of guts, flesh, and stench.
Arassost redirects the fireball to the remaining fungus soldier. Thalion’s arrow pierces the creature and it topples forward.
An eerie, dark silence follows. Thalion kneels to heal Bagheera, while Skye heals herself and then tends to Inala’s and Arassost’s wounds. The adventurers catch their breath and prepare to push deeper into the stronghold.
Back in Easthaven, the cold is relentless. It creeps into every corner of the town, into every breath. Inala seems slightly less affected, but the rest of the party huddles around the hearth, grateful for the warmth. Danneth Waylen stares into the flames with theatrical intensity, concern etched into his features. Finally, the innkeeper makes up his mind and turns toward the group.
“You’ve earned our trust after everything you’ve done for us. Two weeks ago, we received a message from Caer-Konig: They walk unseen. The eyes in the dark are not ours. We haven’t heard a word since. A town doesn’t fall silent unless someone, or something, forces it that way. I need you to find out what silenced an entire town.”
Arrassost leans into the firelight, reluctant to leave its comfort. Thalion asks, “Why do you care?”
Waylen sighs. “The townspeaker is a good friend of mine. What’s happening isn’t just Aurel’s will. There’s something more at work. Caer-Konig’s speaker is well known—famous or infamous, depending on who you ask—and fond of a drink.” He produces a scroll case. “Please deliver this to Trovus in Caer-Konig. This will make sure he helps you.” Inala asks, “Are any dog sleds available for the trip?” “There are,” Danneth Waylen replies, “but they’re all privately owned. And the ferry’s out of service: the lake has frozen over.” The adventurers exchange looks. Snowshoes it is, then.
They’re served a hot meal before leaving. Thalion sneaks scraps from his plate to Bagheera. After Danneth arranges beds, Thalion steps outside to train the snow leopard. A ball tied to a string arcs through the air. Bagheera pounces with precision, clever and quick. By the end, the leopard is spent.
Inside, peace settles over the party. Some sleep. Others meditate, or try to. That night, Arrassost hears a voice. “You’re a traitor. You’re already changing!” A purple glow pulses from his backpack. He hears it again, in his own voice: “I will betray them. It belongs to the dark. I’m already changing.” He opens the bag and finds the mind flayer’s crystal, still pulsing. “Will change, change, change…” Then silence. Arrassost examines the shard. It radiates a magical aura, but not one he recognizes. It feels natural, telekinetic. It doesn’t match any known school of magic. It might be wise to find someone with a greater knowledge of the arcane. Meditation becomes difficult; the crystal occupies his thoughts
Illustration: Forgotten Realms
The next morning, they set out early into the cold. Bagheera is partly carried, partly walking. Thalion leads the way as they travel via Caer-Dineval. The journey is smooth. The sun gives light but no warmth. The silence of the snow is serene, until a voice breaks it: “You will never leave. Not all. Not together.” They stop to listen. No tracks. Not human. Not animal. Arrassost narrows his eyes. “I feel a residue of power.” The voice speaks again, this time in another’s tone. Arrassost hears Skye’s voice: “You’re not alone. You’re never alone.” Thalion hears Inala’s voice, and Inala hears Arrassost’s voice: “The silence isn’t empty. It’s full,” though his lips don’t move. The barbarian grows paranoid and grips her greataxe. Inala feels that something could strike at any moment, but her senses are dulled and she struggles to focus. Arrassost feels something flicker in the corner of his vision, a presence pressing in, and scans their surroundings. The atmosphere tightens, though the landscape remains dull, blanketed in gray and white. The only one unaffected is Skye.
At last, they arrive at Caer-Dineval. Patrolling guards are unfriendly but not hostile; they let the group pass. Inala asks one of them if there have been any visitors from Caer-Konig. “Nope,” the guard replies flatly. “And do they have a town speaker?” “He’s been sick for the last weeks.” “So who runs things?” Inala’s voice turns impatient. “That is a very good question. I report to the captain of the guard.” Skye, who has had many guard shifts, steps in and takes over from the barbarian. “I can understand you’re bored. How many guards are here?” “The militia’s about twenty-five people,” the guard mutters. Skye nods her thanks. “Good luck with your shift, and try not to fall asleep.”
They move uphill, climbing higher into the mountains. The path grows steeper. Hills and peaks surround them, and in the distance, the massive silhouette of Kelvin’s Cairn looms like a frozen sentinel. Caer-Konig comes into view, encircled by wooden palisades. It looks like a fortress, though time has worn it down. A stone wall still stands, but it’s crumbling. From the city gate, the town slopes downward toward the frozen lake. Everything is still. No movement. Just the ghost of what once was. Guards stand at their posts but say nothing. Their eyes dart nervously, paranoid. People move through the streets, heads down.
Thalion approaches one of the guards. “Good day. I was hoping to talk to the town speaker.” “You’ll find him in a street near the inn,” the guard replies, “looking for invisible threats.” The group heads to the tavern The Hook, Line and Sinker. As they approach, they hear growling and shouting and see a dragonborn lashing wildly about with his sword. “Come out, you invisible bastard!” he roars.
Illustration: Ratpackipedia
Thalion steps forward. “Hello.” The dragonborn doesn’t stop. Blood pours from his side, armor torn. He holds no shield in his other hand, just a bottle. His eyes burn with fanaticism. “Who are you?” he demands, glancing around. “There are invisible attackers about – look at my wound!” Thalion offers healing, which the dragonborn hesitantly accepts. The ranger casts his spell, and the wound begins to close, the bleeding slowing. “We are from Easthaven,” Thalion says. “We have a message from your friend Waylen. Can we go inside?” “Follow me to my house,” the dragonborn says. “But keep your weapons ready.”
His home is a run-down hut. Inside, Inala hands him the innkeeper’s scroll. “Since Waylen vouches for you,” Trovus says. “and I trust him, I’ll trust you as well.” He leans forward. “I know what you’re thinking. You see someone with a bottle. But I saw an axe without a hand that struck me. Those cave-dwelling bastard dwarves! I’ve seen them before, they’re among us. These Duergar can turn invisible. They steal small trinkets: cutlery, a signpost, anything metal.” “Are there caves nearby?” Inala asks. “No. The last thing stolen was a special lantern from the Northern Lights Inn. That lantern never stops burning.” Arrassost speaks up. “Was there a black crystal inside, as hard as steel, that can store magic? That is a battery for arcane energy! Easily corrupted, easy to add a negative aura and often used by demon worshippers.” A chill runs through the group. They all feel it – a presence, like eyes watching from the dark. “Most of what’s gone missing has been crystal stuff, a bag of pearls. Let me take you to the last place something was stolen,” the dragonborn says.
He leads them northeast, back to The Hook, Line and Sinker and opens the large door. The inn is mostly empty. A charming woman greets Trovus. “He’s been out ‘patrolling’ again,” she calls into the kitchen. “Welcome, I’m Elly. I run this establishment with my sister Cory. Find a seat, I’ll get you something to eat.”
The door bursts open and the formidable Cory enters, carrying a large tray. When she hears Trovus mention the stolen lantern, she says, “No dwarf did this: someone would’ve spotted them by now. And what use would dwarves have for a lantern? That thing’s been hanging there for years.” “Tomorrow I’ll show you where the lantern was stolen.” Trovus mutters.
Everyone is served a large bowl of soup and eats in companionable silence. After Inala finishes Arassost’s leftovers, Thalion asks for raw fish for his leopard. When Thalion compliments Elly on the soup, she thanks him for being kind to Trovus. “He’s a good townspeaker. Sadly it feels like we’ve been left to our own devices.” She sighs, but recovers quickly. “Since the ferry’s out, I’ll give you some rooms, on our tab.”
After training the snowleopard, everyone settles down. That night, all is quiet. No voices, just rest.
The group continues forward. Above them, a stone bridge arches forty feet high. Inala follows the winding path of frozen water. It grows darker, but the natural light reflecting off the ice provides a faint glow. They arrive at a portal with multiple passageways. The ice suggests that it was not always frozen – perhaps a hot stream once flowed here.
They step into a chamber. Inside the ice, the remains of four frost giants lie in various stages of decay, frozen beneath the water. One underground river remains trapped in ice. One path leads to a dead end, while another extends deeper into the cavern. They follow the winding tunnel, which curves back upon itself.
Around the corner, in the center of the cavern, a large copper cauldron bubbles. An old woman stirs its contents with slow, deliberate movements. Near her, an aged altar stands covered in rusted hatchets and freshly flayed human corpses. She wears thick furs against the cold. Floating beside her is a small, glowing orb: a willow wisp, her eerie companion. The cavern is dimly lit.
Illustration: 5e.tools
The willow wisp hovers before the woman’s face, casting its pale glow over her grotesque features. Her appearance is unsettling – scaly skin, tangled green hair – while she is stuffing entrails into the cauldron without care. She is so hideous that Skye and Inala reel in fear, their resolve breaking. They are frightened, unable to approach willingly.
Thalion swiftly marks the willow wisp with his Hunter’s Mark and fires an arrow, but it misses. Inala meets the witch’s gaze – her glare is terrifying, threatening to paralyze her with fear. Inala struggles against it, heart pounding, and manages to resist! The witch pounds the cauldron twice in agitation, and Inala hurls her javelin at the hag, but it flies wide. Arassost attempts an enchantment spell on the witch, but fails as well. Skye quickly casts a blessing spell on herself, Inala, and Thalion. The willow wisp targets the wizard, unleashing a shock spell, but fails to hit. Thalion retaliates and aims at the wisp again, and this time his arrow strikes true, dealing enough damage to annoy the buzzing creature.
The hag turns to Thalion, swinging her claws, but misses. Her stench fills the cavern, and she yells, revealing jagged, yellowed teeth. A response echoes from deeper in the cave. Heavy, slow footsteps come in response to their mistress’ calling. Inala steadies herself and throws another javelin at the witch. This time, the weapon strikes true, and sickly green blood oozes from the hag’s body. Arassost exhales a magical puff into the hag’s face, sapping some of her strength.
Skye moves toward the willow wisp, her fear vanishing. The wisp retaliates, sending a surge of electricity through Arassost. Thalion, now engaged in melee combat with the wisp, strikes but deals less damage than expected.
Bagheera lunges at the hag, and frantic, the hag screeches and gestures wildly. She turns to retreat, just as the undead frost giant they saw before steps into the chamber, magically released by the sea hag. Inala prepares to strike with another javelin attack, but she miscalculates and misses, as does Skye’s attack. Thalion’s arrow strikes true. The hag shrieks and slashes at Skye. Her filthy claws rake deep.
The giant moves forward, blocking the passage. It swings its enormous great axe at the wizard’s illusion, striking the fake image twice with brutal force. Inala, fueled by rage, attacks the frost giant and deals a lot of damage, while Arassost quickly disengages and steps backward.
Skye channels a vow of enmity, her divine energy focusing on the hag, and the hag’s wounds multiply. She is now heavily injured. The willow wisp strikes at Skye, but misses. Thalion rolls between the giant’s legs, dodging its strikes, and rushes toward the seahag. The creature snarls, “Oh no, you don’t!”, swiping at him, but she misses. Skye counterattacks and delivers a radiant attack to the hag, striking her with full force. The seahag collapses, her filthy body lying motionless.
The frost giant turns on Inala, delivering a brutal blow, and then focuses on Arassost, its piercing magical gaze threatening to freeze him, but the wizard resists the cold. He conjures a Minor Illusion: a massive eagle swoops at the giant’s head, distracting him from attacking till it suddenly collapses in a heap of bones on the ground. Without the hag’s magical connection it turns lifeless once again
The barbarian strikes at the willow wisp but misses multiple times. She howls in frustration. Skye manages to hit the wisp, though the damage on the magically enhanced creature is less than expected. The creature unleashes a bolt of lightning at Thalion. Arassost comes to their aid and casts an enchantment on the wisp. It suddenly gives over to fits of laughing and falls to the ground, making noises that could be considered laughing
Inala strikes again but misses. Skye lands another blow on the wisp, dealing damage. The wisp flickers, then suddenly phases through the cave wall, disappearing into the rock. Inala turns to the hag’s corpse and, out of frustration, chops off her head.
Skye peers into the cauldron, where floating lumps of flesh and entrails swirl in the magical brew. Inala searches the hag’s remains, but she has nothing of value. Inala stuffs the hag’s severed head in a bag, intending to take it back with her to Easthaven. The altar holds only the remains of townsfolk: the lost victims. Quickly they overturn the ghastly cauldron, spilling its contents, and roll the 50-pound cauldron to the lake, sinking to the bottom.
The party takes a short rest until night falls. Moonlight dimly illuminates the corridors and the wind moans, whispering through the cave. They climb 20 feet up the cliff face toward the other entrance… where they are greeted by a growling sound. The Goliath barbarian rolls her shoulders and heads inside. A dire wolf lunges at Inala and its jaws tear into her flesh. She is knocked to the ground. Thalion fires in response, but his arrow sails past its mark and he is also knocked to the ground. Bagheera, sensing the threat, leaps forward, his claws tearing into the wolf’s side, so the ranger can get up and attack. This time his arrow flies true. The beast counterattacks, sinking its teeth into Bagheera. Arassost repeatedly attacks with a poisonous mist. Inala takes a swing but misses. Then, Thalion fires a final arrow, piercing the wolf’s throat. It crumples, the light dying in its eyes. Bones are scattered around the chamber floor.
Illustration: dndbeyond
The adventurers climb even higher towards a broad tunnel entrance, but there are no more tracks. The cave splits: leftward the wind howls, and straight ahead is a bridge covered in ice. They decide to follow the left path, Inala in the lead. They pass three ice-covered pillars, follow another tunnel and find themselves in an open cave with stick figure drawings on the wall. These carvings depict frost giants walking into steaming rivers. In the last scene, they lie flat – drowned. The grim realization settles upon them: these giants have taken their own lives.
They find their way back towards the bridge and, together with Thalion, Inala crosses the bridge. In an open cave there’s an abandoned campsite. Inala finds three charred pages, only partly burned. In Dwarvish it reads:
“These caves are sacred to the frost giants. The carvings on the wall suggests that the giants came here to drown themselves. Did they use the hot spring as a sacrificial pool?” “The wind truly sounds like a wailing woman. One could easily go mad in this place.” “I think there is someone living in these caves. Shortly after discovering the hot springs, I heard what sounded like a granny singing. When the song ended with a shrill laugh, dread sunk its teeth in me. Ye gods, that horrible cackle! I shall leave these caves in the morning and never return.”
In the dead of night, they return to Easthaven, Inala carrying the seahag’s head and the history pages. She recounts their journey to Indra Arlaggath, who is sad for the lost fishermen, intrigued by the cauldron, and happy that the case is solved. In recognition of their bravery, she offers the companions the choice between a Scroll of Fireball and a Bag of Tricks. Arassost chooses the latter. Tired but content, the group returns to the inn to bathe, eat and rest.
Dungeon DuTchess 
