The Glare of Winterlight

Chapter 1: Arrival In Ice

To the south I ventured. Below the wastelands of desert and old broken roads, looking out upon the Sea of Sorrows and across a small straight toward a island covered in white, I finally arrived at the place called Winterlight Island. Had it always this name, I do not know, but the totality of ice covered everything glinting the sun's light into a white frozen glare assured me the name was certainly a fitting one.

The path to town was empty, and snow covered shacks lines the way. I arrived at what looked to be, or used to be, a town square. Nearby I heard the familiar sound of an axe, and found a man laboring at chipping frozen logs into what scraps of firewood he could manage. Raemek was one of the only left in town. He told me of his wife and daughters in a house nearby. He desperately fought with his axe, and I put it in mind to find him a better implement if I could. The cold setting into my bones, I decided to pay his family a visit and learn what I could from these impossibly rugged individuals before setting out to explore on my own.

In Raemek's home I found his wife Phaeba. She was a lovely woman, an industrious seamstress whose home was filled with skillfully crafted garments and crafts. My fingers couldn't help rub the threadbare clothing I had one, and wondering if this woman could craft me something more appropriate for the harsh island's clime. She shared a sullen story of her daughter. The intrepid Olara had ventured out into the nearby forest seeking the firewood these people's lives critically depend on. Nearly a month ago.... She was gone. Raemek's brother had gone out to seek her, and him too - Gone. I rushed back to Raemek, aghast at his misfortuned and blurted out Olara, much to his dismay. He blamed himself for allowing her to search for wood outside the village proper. It was there that I intended to search first and foremost!

Before setting out, and with the confidence that these remaining islanders were friendly and perhaps actually in need of whatever help I could give, I decided to check a few more doors. I met a man named Javen DeKandro who was friendly to visitors and filled me in on all the woes of this troublesome time for the island.

The island was in fact not always in this condition. Only over the last year he claimed had the winter blast left them snowbound. Perhaps this place was not always called Winterlight Island after all! Worse yet, the weather was not seemingly natural, in fact he blamed a sorceress! Inquiring more, he spoke of a palace appearing on the island, and a missing brother. His father had been Mayor, and set out with 2 hunters to break into that icy temple, yet only one returned. Alas, his father and another townswoman Syrena remain missing!

Clearly an evil hung over this tiny village on this remote island. Javen told me more of the two hunters Loben and Syrena and their wise departure from the island. I noted that Syrena's daughter Tanca still lived here, and put her on my list of peoples to gather more info from. Some others had gone, Tosok and Lilin, and remembering what Raemek and Phaeba had told me I mentioned Olara and he told me of Raemek's brother Marrin. I found that Javen shared their woes, and also that he had been holding the key to Marrin's smithy which he gave me gladly. I thanked him and headed outside.

Just outside across the town square I found Marrin's smithy, and the key clicked open the door. Inside I found an old forge that looked in fair enough condition, albeit long unused. Marrin's bedroom offered no hints on his whereabouts, though all his belongings sat in perfect order, his bedroom perfectly arranged, his belongings safely inside their wardrobes and locked chests. The man clearly did not pack up and leave in the night, I feared for him as his family did. I must assist these weary but steadfast people!

Back outside I knocked up and down the streets, and eventually found the home of Vozeb & Tanca, the daughter of the hunter Syrena that Javen had told me about. Vozeb confirmed Syrena had vanished after surviving whatever had taken place during the expedition into the ice palace that left so many families missing loved ones. Gone it seems without even telling her child her whereabouts, a sad state of affairs. A glimmer of hope remained however, as I was glad to hear of Tanca and Vozeb's love in this dire place warming at least their own hearts, if nothing else. Vozeb mentioned his intentions to marry Tanca, and I could see why. But a ring was needed, a ring of his mothers had gone missing, and I noted it down in my memory as I set back about exploring the frigid village.

Chapter 2: A gift for a finger, a forest, and a forge

The other homes were desolate, and I found only small bits and bobs of long forgotten families and long frozen homes. In one particular I managed to pull up a floorboard, and must have gotten carried away with my search of what I assumed was some long gone soul's hidden spot for precious items as was nearly dark and I had cluttered the room with many other miscellaneous items when my finger finally struck something, something small, and round, and silver!

Running back to speak with Vozeb, he was ecstatic, and it warmed my soul just a bit against this frozen landscape to bring him such joy. It ended up warming my feet too, as he rewarded me for my thorough search with a pair of snug winter boots, just perfect for my upcoming trek into the snow drifts beyond the village borders.

One task complete, I set out to see if there was anything I could scrounge up for Raemek to improve his wretched old pickaxe. In a house southward of the square I could see no signs of life, so I used my cunning, and perhaps a bit of brute force, to broach the door. Inside my search only yielded some old furniture. Seeing the current condition of the place, I decided it wouldn't be missed, and broke a chair for its wood. It wielded some burnable fodder and one stout leg that struck the gears turning in my mind. I pocketed these pieces and set back outside.

Coldweave Forest, as the townspeople named it, loomed to my west, and feeling rather confident I stepped into the trees, noting how much wood there was available but how much of it was frozen solid. Considering myself a rather skilled woodsman, I set about a search of the nearest fringes of the woods.

I quickly found myself ashamedly lost. The twists and turns of that trail had me stumbling through to what end I could not imagine. I made for northeast, which must be back towards the village, and found myself crawling through an icy tunnel straight into a den of creatures I can hardly describe. Frostcreepers I named them, for they were exactly both terms. I hacked them relentlessly, and explored their den. As usual, I made a thorough search and was rewarded with an odd pair of antlers and, most exiting, a perfectly usable smith's hammer! I peered into the deepest part of the den where I believe their leader to reside, but, fearing it was not a matter to partake in without assistance, I quietly made my way back to the confusion of the forest and its comparative safety.

Eventually, I made it back to the village. Completely exhausted, I decided to rest and continue my exploits tomorrow. In the morning everything appeared exactly the same as the day previous, and so I returned to the abandoned home to ransack another piece of furniture for two more pieces of kindling. I again searched the nearby forest, and did this until I had a sufficient bundle of five thawed pieces of kindling, along with the stout leg.

With the fresh perspective of a new day and the silver gleam of the smith's hammer in my back gnawing at the back of my mind I returned to Marrin's Smithy. I dropped the five pieces of kindling upon the floor at the forge, and set about to light fire in the pit. I grabbed the bellows and pushed and pull and pushed and pulled for what seemed an eternity until the fire was blazing hot as can be. With my hammer in hand and the broken table leg at the ready, I set about to forge something for my fried Raemek. While it wasn't the best outcome, the crudely forged axe I crafted was a certainly going to be an improvement to his near broken pickaxe. Inspecting my work, I was confident he would appreciate the effort and returned to Raemek with my gift.

He was overjoyed, and sent me to tell the news to Phaeba. She too was thrilled, and quickly put her own crafting skills to work to sew me something quite special, something she called the (Near) Bottomless Pouch of Blessings. Her blessings are indeed special, and contain a magic that usually requires scribing that I've never seen imbued in such a handicraft before. Wielding the item, I am transported to my home, as I am certainly sure Phabea wishes her own child Olara could be.

Chapter 3: A Missing Man

As I slept that night I pondered all that I had heard. Clearly my destination was through the Coldweave Forest and into this supposedly magical Ice Palace and the source of this deep freeze, where I was sure the missing townsfolk would be. I considered those who had gone before me, Javen's father, Syrena, Loben, and most recently Raemek's brother Marrin, whose forge I had used and now felt a kindred spirit with.

In my previous expedition I had found the den of the frostcreepers, and Marrin's hammer. Could he have met his fate at the hands of those beasts or their master, or had they somehow stolen the hammer. Putting faith in Marrin's ability I decided that his fate likely took him further than that region and set my sights on the farther reaches of the forest.

I set out at dawn, and worked my way deep into Coldweave Forest once more. Keeping the rising sun in the east I strode ever southward until I reached the end of the forest proper and came upon a great plain of ice, riddled with tunnels. Tunneling through the icy plains I had nearly become lost when suddenly I found myself stumbling into an enormous mountain spewing forth a half frozen waterfall. Truly a sight to behold, I felt my journey was not at its end quite yet and daringly looked onward toward the southeast, and lo and behold caught a glimpse of a cavern behind the waterfall.

My excitement was quickly met with dread however, and suddenly a beast was upon me. A lumbering, lumpy troll drooling icicles from its filthy pelt accosted me and I found myself fighting for my life. I attempted to flee and reconnoiter but could not as the beast was simply too large, and pulled me back again and again, his mace pummeling me at every angle. My usual sword would not hit him, but luckily I had an alternative blade that would. I slew him without regret, and took an icy metal flange mace and his filthy pelt for my own.

I continued behind the waterfall and into the cavern beyond, clearly the troll's abode. Within I found a pile of muck and debris of many victims both animal and human. I set about a thorough dig and search. Amongst the fodder that I turned up was one rudimentary belt buckle, one shockingly perfect garnet, and quite to its contrary one horrible bloated stomach. I swallowed hard and even conducted a search therein, and much to my delight, the disgusting diligence paid off. My excitement was quickly abated however, as I cleaned off the plain iron ring and discovered it to be engraved with the letter "M", a bit more of a search and I had in my hand a tiny silver key. My thoughts returned to the missing Marrin, the smith, and the locked bench in his bedroom. He had surely lost his mace in his encounter with the frostcreepers, and then lost his life itself here, by the mace of this bastard ice troll.

Northward I hiked, determined to return to town alive, as Marrin had not. Once again I crossed the tunnels of ice, dazed and lost, and finally entered back into the Coldweave Forest only to again find myself staggering in circles for what seemed like ages. Finally, after much effort, I reached the village.

In the village square I plunged the trolls fur into the well, to wash the pelt. Feeling it sufficiently cleaned of debris I went to Phaeba to see if her seamstress skills could be of use. I guessed correctly, and she crafted me a beautiful piece of white trollskin clothing. I recalled also the belt buckle I had found, and searched her house quickly for a strip of leather. With these she was able to craft me a silver-buckled belt as well! At that point, just for fun, I also searched up an old blouse in her house, and inquiring once more she gladly whipped up a perfectly good silken indigo blouse that, I might say, many young ladies would be glad to own.

Thanking Phaeba, I returned into Marrin's smithy, and to his locked bench in the bedroom. This was it, final confirmation if the key and ring I had found were indeed his. I fit the key and held my breath as I twisted. I unlocked the bench. Poor Marrin.

I searched the bench for items of value, and turned up a useful vest, pocketknife, and a particularly delicate silver mirror of some interest. I took these into my bag, and set about making plans for another journey into the woods to seek the mysterious palace. Believing this to be a fools errand alone, I returned back across the sea to warmer climates to make arrangements and gather a party of worthy adventurers, fighters, and men of magic to take up the cause by my side.

Intermission

This concludes the first exploration of Dyrdex in Winterlight Island. Afterwards, much greater forces were required to proceed into the mysteries of the palace beyond.

This is a good time to pee.

Entre'Act!

Chapter 4: The Plot Thickens

A confident party packed to the gills with various and sundry supplies we set forth out of the village once more into the Coldweave Forest. Spending a bit of time in the forest with several scouts we finally managed to learn of its twists and turns. The magic of the island influences the creeping frozen branches, but we found this a slow process which only causes the trails to shift once per day. Having our scouts map the route, identifying the paths to the frostcreepers and the ice troll's abode, left only one path forward to undiscovered terrain. Once discovered, this map of the forest was documented and used by all who were to follow through the coming day and night.

Northwest out of the forest we found an icy river. So cold in fact that one requires a magical shield to cross efficiently and safely. Alas, thanks to several poor scouts before us we learned that exploring too far up or down the stream leads only to death, while across the stream lies the mysterious palace of ice itself.

Upon a precipice of ice we camped, and a mighty camp we soon had. Many man had gathered, with many supplies. Men of spells, and men carrying potions, and scrolls, and sundry magical items. Fighters and Sorcerers, Shaman, and even a seclusive band of Abberants. We camped like men about to besiege a city for many many months. And in our numbers, we found courage.

To the northwest opened a huge chasm into which walking meant certain doom. Above it, seemingly in the midst of the air, a guardian of white fur loomed. A wight of massive proportion, and given his color and the surrounding environ, we deemed the Winterwight. A party of 4 was sent, we fought him with blades and barehands and even summoning the elements and weather itself to assault him. We found him unleash huge bursts of fury upon us at times, while at other times he seemed more docile, and we were perplexed. Nevertheless, we successfully slaughtered the beast and watched his corpse fall far below. Glimpsing a strange animal bone blade we named Foulfang in his hands, we configured our minds with the utmost of reflexes to grab his spoils before the corpse could fall.

Beyond this seeming guardian, we found the first step in our quest, the gate of the ice palace and the first ill mention of its master, the Lady Bridgette, upon the cold steel edifice.

There we sat, upon the cold front porch of the palace, seemingly at a dead end against the brutal and unresponsive front gates of the icy palace. As so we redoubled our searches of the entire area, digging up the snow in every corner, and finding a list of sundry items. One item, a small snow globe proved to be essential.

Many of the townspeople recognized this item. Raemek told us of its magical properties, but it was Vozeb's advice and Tanca, daughter of the missing Syrena who had entered the palace, who provided us with essential information. She told us the secret of the front gate, and of several of the areas to be found inside, but moreover she told us her mother Syrena had long been a practitioner of faith and frequented the longstanding Abbey of Dunhill.

On her lead we set off for the Abbey at Dunhill to speak with those monks who knew Syrena and what she had found in the palace of Lady Bridgette. Brother Murtagh had known Syrena, and in trade for his knowledge we completed a brief mission for him, acquiring some tarantula venom from the wastelands of the south. This trade proved very worthwhile, and he told us several nuggets of information that Syrena had discovered about the palace: the secret of the third djinni, whatever that was, and of the winterwight's source of power, and of a drow's powerful boots to be found near to the palace.

With our newly acquired intelligence we returned to the cold gate once more, and with renewed determination sought for the means of entrance Vozeb had told us of. Finally, in the flicker of firelight one of our party spied an inscription scrawled upon the rocky barrier. Vozeb was certainly right that the inscription was quite a puzzle. A day passed, and we again returned to the gate beyond the Winterwight. When we looked again, much to our dismay, the inscription had changed. It took days outside that gate before we found the magic of the inscription, which must stem from the same source as the shifting Coldweave Forest, for it changes daily and only daily and shifts between a maximum of four states.

Setting our best minds to work, we eventually eeked out whatever legible terms we could from the jumble of characters of each of the four inscriptions. After much dismay and despair, finally we had a stroke of luck and spoke aloud a sequence of terms from the days inscription. The gate shimmered briefly, and our surroundings changed . . .

Chapter 5: The Halls of Frost

We found ourselves within massive halls of icy blue pillars and permanent frost. Each direction seemed the same, and the magic of the halls looped us back upon ourselves in a confusion of direction and orientation. Denizens of ice roamed the halls and we quickly learned to avoid them at all costs.

Eventually and again after much despair, our stumbling sent us into new areas. We found the fields of seemingly endless barren ice plains and and icy cavern pool of krakens that Vozeb had spoken of. We tested and documented our navigation to find a definite path and in time learned the way, but we did not explore them fully, being careful to stay alive long enough to share our knowledge and document these findings with those back at camp.

Then came a day we found another exit to a destination most peculiar. Within a room of ice sat a magical being, a Djinni. He sat silent and stoic, until upon our inspection he put forth a request in a bit of a puzzling way. He sought a satisfactory reply in the form of an object, at times an item of armor, at others, an implement of weaponry. We riddled over this and tested multiple objects until we discerned exactly what he required. It was a very easy objective once the requirement was understood, merely any item of a certain caliber would do the trick. We had our squires and men of support begin gathering these in great quantity for future endeavors beyond the Djinni.

Having resolved the Djinni's request, he vanished and beyond him we found a door of the appearance much akin to that of a prison. Opening it and peering beyond we saw a huge demonic creature of ice striding within a long straight corridor with several doors to one side. Perhaps a prison of sorts it we presumed, and the demon its guard. We quickly crafted a plan.

We had found that for as difficult it was to enter the palace, it was extremely easy to leave it quickly and safely by merely disconnecting our thoughts and feelings from the seemingly mystical place. Upon refocusing and connecting once more with reality, we found ourselves outside once more. We abandoned the palace, and regrouped with our camp outside to send in a strong party to take down the ice demon patrolling the narrow corridor.

Chapter 6: Imprisoned in Ice

Across the chasm and into the palace, across the halls of frost, and beyond the now dissipated Djinni's room we sent our finest warriors and even those shaman with a taste for battle. The prison door was bashed open, and we stormed the hall.

The alarm of the guard was palpable and the Ice Demon Lord engaged immediately, summoning lesser ice demons to his aid. The fight was fierce, but our blades did their damage. Just as progress was being remarked upon and our courage began to stir however the tide turned as one weakened member of our party reached for a healing potion to aid himself. The beast roared, and bashed him quite thoroughly, stunning him for quite some time. The rest of us watched in horror, and feared for our own lives as we gripped the potions in our bags closely.

Alas, several of our party were slain, and the remainder fled and removed themselves from the icy crypt. A better plan was needed. The lesser ice demons had overwhelmed us, and with no chance of healing the demon lord could not be safely engaged. A quick plan was concocted. Our bravest employed great daring and was able to lure the beast into a compromising position wherein we had him trapped away from his lesser denizens. Our forethought had also provided us with a simple method by which to heal ourselves without his complaint. With this strategy we re-engaged our foe and this time fought until the beast was slain. At his death his gargantuan corpse fell to the ground, significantly injuring on of our party. From his corpse we took a signet of silver flame.

Once slain, we cleared the lesser ice demons with no fear, for they were meek and timid by comparison. The prison hallway now being devoid of beasts we found ourselves wandering a cold and silent hall, wondering what souls may have met their end within such a miserable place.

Along the north wall of the hallway we found three cells, encased within pure ice with no visible doors. Within the center chamber we spied a young girl. Olara! I immediately thought of Raemek and Phaeba, and my heart leapt into my throat. Alas she could not hear my cries, and with no clear method of gaining entrance to the cell we sat and pondered. The demon lord of the prison must administer these cells of course, and so we scoured all that we had stripped from his corpse and eventually found they key, so to speak, to those icy frozen walls. Eventually, I found myself within the cell with Olara herself.

She stared up at me first in fear, and with the questioning eyes of innocence and hope that only a child still possess when faced with such an odd encounter in such an odd place. I began to speak, and in silence she sat, still undecided about my intentions, until from my lips slipped the mention of mother and she sprang to life and begged to know if I had the means to get her safely back home.

I pondered long. For only one could utilize the "key" to pass the icy prison cell barrier at a time, and while I thought long about giving her the means to exit and encasing myself in that prison in exchange, I hid that idea away and selfishly kept the secret of the key in my own mind. At last, without any clear purpose, I drew forth my bag and rummaged through the items I had collected from the town and the forest, from the troll and from her mother, and from the bench of the smith Marrin. The delicate silver mirror struck a chord with her, for Marrin was after all her uncle, Raemek's brother, and Olara knew of the item and a special engraving on its back. In a sudden and unexpected flourish, she was gone. Free at last of the Ice Lord Demon in the prison of the ice palace of the Lady Bridgette.

I exited the now empty cell, relieved beyond expression, and we methodically conducted a search of the remaining cells. In one we found a brown leather bracelet, of very good quality, and I stowed it away with the rest of the loot and plunder.

Nearing the end of the hall we remarked a odd spot of frost in the southern wall. We found this open upon a secret passage that would its way up and out of the prison to an exterior ledge outside the palace along its side. Here on a barren cliff lived a wyvern covered in blue frost. At its feet we noticed the corpse of what was clearly a member of the Drow race. Remembering the words of Syrena to the monks of Dunhill, we suspected this Drow corpse may have contained the boots she had noted, perhaps the Wyvern had stolen them in the interim.

We took note of this, and during a later time sent an expedition of various bladesmen and sorcerers to slay that beast. They found that its magical skin required the deftness of corresponding weaponry. It was slayed easily by three, and from its corpse they took a frost wyvern circlet and, by a stroke of luck, discovered the blackened drow boots

Feeling rather accomplished for our first foray into the palace, being undetected by greater foes and having successfully free'd the prisoner girl Olara, slayed the Ice Lord Demon, and the frost blue Wyvern, with no clear direction forward, we believed this a satisfactory expedition and quickly exited the palace via the aforementioned disconnection of mind, and therefore body.

I was eager to return to the village and to Raemek and Phaeba and, hopefully, Olara. I set out and found Phaeba in their home as usual, and much to my delight, Olara at her side. Despite all my refusals, Phaeba insisted and bestowed upon me an emerald hairpin. I found Raemek happily chopping wood alongside the forest with his new axe, he grinned from ear to ear at me, and give me a handsome gift of coin.

Chapter 7: The Palace

On our second journey into the palace we sought to further explore the various areas beyond the Halls of Frost. Proceeding to once again check all rooms and exits, visible or not, we found a new room of much mystery. It lied down beneath the halls, and contained only a magical orb that seemed to emanate colorful hues, but for what purpose we did not know. We found that touching the orb would cause it to gleam a new color, in a repeating sequence. Not knowing the purpose, we noted down the sequence and continued back into the Halls to map any other new areas of interest.

We rechecked the entrance into the icy cavern of Krakens, yet that seemed to be so obviously a bad place to find oneself, we decided to focus on the barren desolation known as Kandro's Fields. We thought of Javen deKandro, obviously meaing "son of Kandro", and wondered if his father had met his end upon this barren plain. From the halls of frost we found a very short path to an odd room off the most obvious path that after a brief wait sent us magically into these fields. Once within, we began exploring in the most thorough ways possible to prevent a total loss of orientation. We marked our path, and as there was nothing of interest above the ground but endless vistas of cold fields we turned up the fields themselves as we went. Eventually, we found a key.

We continued until at random, we found ourselves transported to a place we had heard about from Vozeb in town, "a hidden shelter with symmetrical locked doors, but only one door that led to the way forward". Within this pavilion we now stood looking at at exactly eight doors. With our key we opened one at random, but alas, it led only back to the fields. With seven doors still remaining, we sought back into the barren fields once again scouring the earth to see if other keys might be found. Eventually, after several more keys had been found and doors had been opened, we opened up a door to yet another Djinni.

The Second Djinni presented us with a direct riddle, and took no quarter in his punishment for an incorrect answer. Our corpses we found flung about the palace, and had to carefully navigate to retrieve them. We thought long and hard before answering him a final solution. Upon satisfying his puzzle, he granted a frost jewel. We knew not its purpose, but we stashed it with the rest of our spoils and continued to explore the Halls of Frost.

By this point we had noticed that most of the hidden exits from the Halls of Frost were contrary to the usual directions of its chambers. Hence, after our meeting with the second Djinni, we redoubled our steps of the Halls of Frost to check once more all of its known corridors and in fact did find a new exit had opened off the path where none existed before. Following this route, we eventually located a room that, if tarried in for a short while transported a body to an entirely new chasm of ice and despair, filled with magnificent spinning colored disks floating in the void, like magical stepping stones across the chasm.

In each direction we saw a nearly colored spinning disk we could likely hop upon. Was it safe to simply leap out at a random disk we wondered? Likely not, given our knowledge of this fiendish palace and its Djinn's puzzles and Demon Lords and its seemingly sadistic love of enticing adventurers to their own deaths. In a stroke of brilliance however, a previous experience flashed into mind... could it be the solution to this colored quandary?

On the other side, we found ourselves standing in a snow drift with nowhere to go but straight into what we at this point should have come to expect, another Djinni.

The riddle this third Djinni posed completely boggled our mind. We found ourselves extremely grateful for the hints we had acquired from Vozeb and Brother Murtagh regarding Syrena's research here, as she had apparently reached this third Djinni as well, and her words were essential to our eventual solution to the puzzle. It took quite a while, and the information the good monk had passed along ended up being exactly how we solved it. Upon satisfaction of his riddle, the Djinni granted us passage and we found ourselves inside a snow globe of our own prison, staring at an eternal snowstorm in all directions.

This posed one last riddle for our best minds to chew upon. It didn't take long to solve, though it was perhaps a bit random of a thing to try. Some might say it was the most obvious thing to try too however, I suppose it depends on your predilections to puzzles. Having resolved that problem, we saw a road to the west, and in fact, suddenly a huge gust of snow and wind shoved us fast in that direction.

Chapter 8: Lady Bridgette

We found ourselves thrust into the throne room of the queen of this ice palace, the Lady Bridgette herself. She waited not a second to unleash an ironically icy hell upon us.

Her frozen attacks seemed to know no end, and her icy minions flocked in and around us at our heels. Then, alas, we saw the monstrous Ice Lord Demon sending in his magicks to heal the ice queen, and we knew our doom was upon us. We could not flee, and were quickly overwhelmed. We died in valor, covered in ice, within the throne room of the Lady Bridgette.

We found our bodies once again scattered across the palace. Some rather luckily within the Halls of Frost, others deep within the icy cave of the kraken. It took quite some time and a fair bit of careful navigation to retrieve all of our bodies and possessions. A party of interested fellows took this time to finally explore that terrible chamber of kraken. There is one there that is the size of a behemoth, and we soon realized it was Kando himself, father of Javen, transformed into this mutated beast of ice and sea. From him we obtained a mangled sceptre, perhaps something we could repair at the forge in town.

Finally, back at camp, we reviewed all that we had learned so far and crafted a plan. We fetched and readied supplies and crew members, and using all the information at our possession began our quest for the head of the ice bitch, Lady Bridgette.

Using the information acquired from Vozeb upon seeing the snow globe, we waited for dawn. Our best group of Druids, Clerics, even Barbarians, assaulted the Winterwight to clear our route to the palace gate. A band of our stoutest warriors gleaned the inscription on the gate and already knew its deciphered words, speaking them they entered into the halls of frost and to the first djinni, prepared with both options to satisfy his riddle of requirements. Having passed, they lured the Ice Demon Lord to their waiting blades and slaughtered him with no issue, clearing the halls of his lesser daemons just for fun. At that point, a reconnaissance team had been deployed to traverse the inner chamber and the vast fields to discover and solve the riddle of the second djinni and acquire his prize.

At that time, all parties reconnoitered at the precipice outside the palace and team of the finest and most dexterous fighters, along with sorcerers of the most acumen for group melee, entered the palace and made their way to the chasm of spinning disks. We crossed that trap as hastily as possible, quickly satisfying the third djinni and fully preparing with all of our knowledge of spell, skill, and ability we broke the illusion of the eternal snowstorm to make our way straight back into the throne of Lady Bridgette.

The fight was extremely fierce, there is no denying it. We resisted her icy attacks, and fought her minions with flames. We made progress and could see her visibly diminishing in power and stature when suddenly she somehow interned renewed health and vigor and our struggle went on, and on, for what seemed like ages.

Finally, she stumbled, and finally, she fell.

Before her dying breath, she lifted up her countenance upon the gods above and uttered an incantation of demonic prayer. Rumblings echoed throughout the palace as an otherworldly power answered in return, its energy channeled through an opening located somewhere nearby, beckoning....

Before we knew it, a team of aberrants and their squires had heard the call of the demonic portal and had themselves come through the palace and across the mazes, and completing all requirements to enter the throne room entered, and magically disappeared into the netherworld of the portal beyond.

Chapter 9: The Netherworld

Into that netherworld I followed, intrigued by the dark unknown of the swirling portal. Within I found a world of darkness and constant damage to my mind and body. A tiny trail led through the mist to a dark altar upon which several candles stood lit. In a flurry of activity at the altar the dark lord himself materialized. I looked upon him,

A force of supreme power, unmatched in almost any domain, the entity known as V'reesar manifested itself there as a darkened swirl of energy, electricity, and malignancy. It has no bodily form and exists only as an abstraction, yet its power is very real. V'reesar is the driving force behind Bridgette and surely behind much of the evil pervading the Realms, rising up from within the planar chaos, inspiring a blinding mixture of awe and terror.

I watched the battle intently, and of that hell storm I can hardly remember anything at all, except huge surges of electricity, great flashes of lighting, and long periods of stunning fear. Finally, the dark god relented from his attack and spoke:

V'reesar wonders 'Do you think I would give up the island over yonder?'
V'reesar wonders 'The palace, the sorceress, all the death and devastation that I have successfully wrought upon the unsuspecting?'
V'reesar exclaims 'And yet it is not without purpose.  How ignorant of you!'

He sat, staring at us, our weapons no longer able to even contact his dark being any longer.

V'reesar says 'I shall not waste my time here any longer. Yet, some of your deeds have amused me. Take these trinkets and begone, mortals, before you overstay my patience.'

With that, he was gone.

Chapter 10: Falling Action

We gathered the bits of mortal garb he left behind and counted our blessings. The war of V'reesar upon that lone little island now encased in winter waged on, and my thoughts returned to the townspeople unwittingly subjected to the malice of V'reesar, and his minion Bridgette. Raemek and Phaeba, at least now reunited with their daughter Olara, and Raemek with his new axe chopping away in the frozen forests for the survival of his family. Alas, his lost brother Marrin, fallen prey to the ice troll of the southern cave. Vozeb and Tanca, now united in marriage with thanks to the ring of Vozeb's mother I had found what seems like ages ago now. Javen deKandro, and the ill fate of his father in the icy caverns below the palace.

I returned to the cold forge in town, and once again ignited its flame. I forged the broken remains of Kandro's iron sceptre into a new staff, using a gem I had found previously around the island. I also took an ingot dropped by V'reesar himself and found myself crafting a huge two-handed sword I decided to name for our unwavering will to always fight and never succumb to the evils of that palace: Defiance.

I slunk back from that southern island shaken and sullen. I had gone there full of ego and confidence, to apply my hero's brain and brawn to assist those poor townsfolk and find the secret of this wintery spell, and confront its ill masters. I had done these things, I had survived the palace, slayed its queen, faced the evil god beyond, and even lived to tell the tale. Yet, as I walked away I knew he remained, pulling the strings of his evil spawn to beset them upon this wintery landscape. I could only take solace in the modicum of ease I had brought to the remaining townsfolk's lives. I walked north, and crossed the sea back toward the wastelands and southern mountains of the mainland never to return to the small island whose name was lost, but is now known as Winterlight.