The group of adventurers have earned glory in the land for their daring stand at Watchgap Fort. The fort was under siege by a vastly larger army and through the efforts of the group, held out until reinforcements arrived to turn the tied. While they joined the walking wounded in a long march back to Hellfrost Keep, they were greeted to a hero’s welcome with songs by the scalds and free ale.
Rumors of Healing!
It was early spring when they heard that there were healers capable of healing some of their more egregious wounds in Brae, a long trip to the North. It was early spring and they were ready for a cold, wet, muddy trek. As part of their reward, they each had a huscurl ally to travel with them, which would help offset some of the danger. They also were able to pick up a bit of work looking for a relative of a noble that had gone north with supplies to Brae, some weeks past. He had not returned, nor had he reached the destination by last rumor. Sadly, one of their members was lost while out scouting, leaving only Thidrin and Silvas as the remaining Heroes of Watchgap Fort. They did pick up a couple of new friends to travel with though.
The trip was uneventful until they were just east of Drakewood. Just outside a warden’s tower, they found the remains of a couple of carts and not much else. All signs pointed to the young missing noble. Shadows overhead alerted them to the probable reason when a dragon alighted down for another snack. Quick thinking, some luck, and the loss of one of their huscurl’s and they had a dragon’s head, meat, and scales, but nothing to pull the wagons, should they be able to repair them. They started work repairing the wagon anyway, figuring the gods would provide.
While gathering wood and other supplies for the warden’s tower, they came across footprints. Perhaps the young noble was alive afterall. They set off across the frozen fields toward the distant mountains, forgetting that there was a reason it was called Drakewood. A day’s travel from the tower, they came upon a very young dragon. They thought it wouldn’t hurt to add it to their prize and quickly dispatched it. Hours later, they heard the distant roar of a much larger dragon.
What they spotted in the distance froze their hearts and they quickly set upon a plan to bury themselves in the snow, hoping the probable parent dragon wouldn’t find them. Alas, as with all plans, the unexpected often is not accounted for, and Thidrin rose out of the snow, whether of fear or outright bravado, they would argue for days.
They made a brave stand and were feeling heartened thinking they might have another much bigger dragon kill on their hands. It was then that to their horror the dragon lashed out and bit the arm off of Thidrin and rose up flying away. Luckily, they had a healer who could staunch the flow of blood, but the loss of an arm was nothing a healer would ever be able to fix. It was then that their young Tiaga Elf befriend some pygmy mamoths which would help in transporting their wounded and supplies, not to mention prove transport for their wagons. The gods had provided.
They found the remains of the young noble and chose to bring them to Brae for the proper ceremonies and returned to the tower.
Things in Brae were not well, it seemed that there were bouts of insanity and a Sister of Mercy upon hearing of the arrival of some heros from Watchgap Fort, pressed them into helping discover the cause.
The trek to an ancient temple proved easy, but the crazy orcs that were there proved laughable and dangerous. They discovered the entrance to the old temple was recently opened, and entered it surmising it was the source of the madness. Largely empty, quite scary, they found the remains of the temple robbers, a long dead caretaker, and eventually the dried husk of the long dead, yet living on, now mad philosopher. His insanity was spreading out of the temple tot he countryside.
They were able to send him on from the world ending the insanity and return to Brae. A healer had arrived in the mean time and healed them from their lingering wounds from Watchgap Fort. Feeling much more spry now that their limps were gone and, outside of Thidrin, having the use of both arms.
They made a long uneventful trek south back to Aslov.
An early spring snow storm resulted in them getting lost on their journey south. Fighting spiders along the way, they cleared the woods and finally came upon a field that they recognized as a decisive battle in the great war, one that involved Golems.
Deciding to try a little bit of treasure hunting, they started to dig only to awaken an old golem who rose up to make war upon the traveling band. A quick fight later and they decided that treasure hunting was not for them and continued their journey, at least one of them now having a rather permanent limp again.
Fast Forward and dead winds.
It was late in spring when they found themselves traveling north back to Aslov from escorting a merchant’s caravan to Drakeport. They stopped at a small village just west of the Tower Hills, a place in the middle of a celebration with beautiful colored kites. It was then that the air was magically removed and a chill settled on the land.
Picking up rumors of something in the Tower Hills, they set off to locate the source of the dread magic. Their guide turned out to be a Hearth Knight that had been chasing a Frost Giant and she was able to help them find an ancient tower that was probably where he was holed up.
They quickly dispatched some guarding goblins and found their way into a frost covered underchambers. While they made quick work of some cultist, the priest got away when they stumbled upon the temple. It was here that they stopped to take stock of their current situation, on the dawn of the fourth day after the wind died…