Winter Travels

         This is not the beginning of the story, but it is a beginning I suppose. Sometimes it seems the more you try to explain the past, the more past there is to explain. Sometimes you just have to start and leave the past buried. This particular beginning takes place on Gilon, a flat, ring-shaped world that floats through space, surrounded in mists. On this world, there is a country called Dunador, and its capital Dunthrane. Here is where we begin our story.
         It is a cold fall day. The streets are filled with the usual crowd. Beggars shiver with their bowls in their Beggars’ Guild appointed spots. Merchants hawk their wares, and do their best to fend off thieves. Guards walk their rounds, wishing they could be next to the fire in the barracks.
          On Finch Street and Gamble Avenue sits the local Adventurers’ Guild. It is early and few people have bothered to go in to look for jobs yet. A stout woman in her forties enters the guild, two white dogs in tow. She says to them over her shoulder, “Come on Mom! Come on Pop! Let’s get in out of the cold.” The building is not a large one, but it has its comforts. A large fire roars from a pit in the center. Jeb the bartender tends the bar, wiping it down and fixing some stew for the coming customers. A man shivers at the bar, though judging from the several empty cups of coffee in front of him, it is as likely due to caffeine or psychosis as it is for the cold. A bulletin board sits on the west wall, notes for potential work posted haphazardly across it. Ralph the clerk sits at his desk near the bulletin board, sorting some papers and looking forward to a bowl of Jeb’s stew. The woman approaches Ralph, “Hello sir, I’m looking for some adventurers.” Ralph nods and his chins vibrate disgustingly, “Name ma’am?”
          “Sharra Frohm.”
          Ralph eyes the dogs, as they sit quietly at Sharra’s side. He then dips his quill in ink and writes something in a book before pulling out a piece of paper. “And what is it you need done ma’am? It will be one gold piece to post. This is beyond whatever you decide to offer for the job.”
          Sharra nods and tosses a handful of silver coins onto the table. “I need some hardy types to help me stop some attacks that have been happening in a village beyond the Dead Mountains.”
          Ralph’s stomach jiggles and rolls as he guffaws. “You want to drag some fellas up to ice country? That’s a laugh. Well if you get someone who wants to freeze their butt off, I suppose that’s their business.” The shivering man at the bar quietly mutters an incantation to himself. He closes his eyes and imagines the bulletin board devoid of notes. The board shimmers for a moment, unnoticed by anyone else. The notes disappear, masked in illusion. He snickers to himself and takes another sip of coffee. Ralph hands a paper to Sharra along with a small pin. “There ya go miss Frohm. Go ahead and tack that up on the board there, and you kin come back. I’ll tell ya if anyone is interested.”
          A man and woman enter the guild as Sharra wanders over to the board, Mom and Pop following closely behind. The man is in his 20’s, dressed neatly with a sword at his side and a small owl emblem on his chest. He runs a hand through his short black hair before heading to the bar. The woman wears the same owl emblem on a chain around her neck, spear kept strapped to her back, the sure sign of a priestess of Athena. An owl sits quietly on her shoulder, wearing a collar that says “Maltos”. Sharra pins the note up, which vanishes, masked by illusion. The shivering man at the bar snickers to himself, apparently content with the pranks his years of magical study allow him to do. The woman shakes her head in confusion, staring that the board she had pinned a note to seconds ago. The man who has just walked in walks over to the shivering man and says, “Still playing practical jokes Arden?”
          Arden snickers and nods, “I never get tired of this Guf. Say, do I smell like catnip to you?” Guf sighs. He had become a paladin of Athena only a few years ago and had since seen much combat and hardship. Not the least of which was the loss of his younger sister Sybania to some illness that was given to her by creatures he had yet to understand. Vengeance would come another day however, work was needed for now, and if he could fight for right and protect the innocent in the process, all the better. Guf walks over to Sharra and says, “Hello ma’am, I am Guf Harbinger. The woman over there is Drea and the shivering fellow at the bar is Arden. Is there something amiss that I may aid you with?”
          She stammers, “I ah… well… I just put up a note… but it’s gone?”
          “Forgiveness for that miss, Arden there fancies himself a jokester sometimes. What is it that you need done?”
          “Well, I’m Sharra Frohm, my great great great great grandfather wrote a book maybe you’ve heard of it?” The paladin shakes his head.
          “Oh well, it doesn’t matter. It’s just the manual to surviving in the frozen north. This is Mom and that’s Pop by the way.”
          The paladin nods towards the dogs quickly and says, “You said you had a problem miss Frohm?” “Oh yes, right. See I’ve been continuing the work of my ancestor for the last twenty years or so. Unfortunately when I was studying the Akkari mountains, a nearby village of inugaakalakurit were attacked by frost giants. You’ve heard of the inugaakalakurit right?”
          “I don’t think I could even say it back to you.” “They’re a people that live in the north, good friends of mine actually. Some were killed, most were just captured and taken away. I need someone who can take care of the frost giants. How doesn’t matter so long as they are no longer a threat to my friends or my research.”
          The paladin nods and says, “This is a most noble quest, we would be honored to join you on it.” Arden and Drea sigh together. Arden asks, “So how much does this pay anyway?”
          “500 gold each. I have a friend in Coldwater who is waiting for us, he’ll join us when we get there. That’s the last town before the Dead Mountains and the frozen north.”
          “Will we be able to buy supplies in Coldwater? Perhaps winter gear and such?” asks Guf.
          “Yes! Yes! Of course! When can you leave?”
          “I must gather a few things, perhaps we might meet at the northern city gate tomorrow morning?”
          “That’s fine. I shall see you then.” Sharra turns and bounds out the door her dogs following quickly behind. Guf did not know much about surviving such harsh winter, but as he left the guild for his home in the temple of Athena he thought about his cloak. It had been given to him as a gift for gaining paladinhood. It was just an ugly fur with a clasp really, not particularly well crafted, and he loathed the idea of wearing it. He accepted it gracefully only because to do otherwise would be rude and dishonorable. It was magical however and no matter how cold it got he was warm. It may have been a strange gift at the time, but it would no doubt be endlessly useful in the coming quest.
          Arden downed another cup of coffee before heading up to his room. Last night had not been a restful one for him. Nightmares of his magic failing and being attacked by cats plagued him all night. He was terrified of cats, a fear that was reasonably instilled after nearly being killed by a pack of ally cats when a witch had transformed him into a mouse. The only good thing about going so far north would be that he was pretty sure no cats lived there. Drea follows Guf to the temple of Athena. She had been assigned to follow the paladin in his journeys. His name was not really Guf, but it suited him for travel. His given name was Calladus and the high priest believed it prudent to have Drea aid this paladin with the healing magics of their goddess. Drea retires to her quarters in the temple for some meditation for the day.

***

          The sun rises slowly over the land. Its rays do little to warm the chilly fall air as the three allies meet with their employer at the northern gate of Dunthrane. The horses to their wagon stamps idly at the dirt, ready for the coming trip. “I’m glad you all made it here,” Sharra says with a bright smile on her face, “It’s a good three weeks before we hit Coldwater. It’s mostly farmlands between here and there, but there are a few stops on the way where we can rest in a warm bed. We’ll meet up with my friend in Coldwater when we get there.”
          Drea gently pets her owl, rubbing its wing affectionately as she asks, “Who’s this friend you keep talking about?”
          “Oh, his name’s Raif Blackblade. He’s pretty good with a sword and he’s been up north a few times too. Anyway, is there anything else or can we get going? The quicker we start the quicker we get there.” The companions nod and climb into their wagon. A short snap of the reins and it heads off. The days pass slowly as the wagon tumbles down the path, surrounded by farmlands. Most of the fields have long been harvested which make the fields look barren and lifeless. Winter would be approaching soon.
          A day short of Montinelle, the back wheels of the wagon sink into the road, stopping it from moving further. “I’ll check it out,” Guf says. He hops down and wanders over to the back of the wagon. The ground has sunken beneath the wheel. “Can I get a little help back here? The wheel’s stuck.”
          Sharra hops down and helps push the wagon. There is a rumble beneath them as insect-like pincers break through the ground, crushing into the paladin’s armor. Within seconds the upper torso of a huge green insect creature rises from the ground and bites into Guf. Sharra quickly grabs a bone machete from the wagon as she shouts, “A little help back here!”
          Guf reaches to his scabbard for his holy blade and strikes the creature soundly. A shrill cry comes from the creature as a spurt of green ooze splashes from the wound. It bites into Guff again, crushing his armor into his flesh. Sharra charges at it with her machete as Arden and Drea move in behind. A bolt of flame flies forth from Arden’s fingers, knocking the creature aside as Drea charges at it with her spear, which glances off its thick carapace. The creature hisses and spits a stream of acidic goop at Guf. He dodges aside and doubles back for a strike. With a final cry, the creature falls and tumbles down its subterranean home.
          Drea mumbles a prayer to Athena as she rubs Guf’s wounds. They glow blue for a moment before vanishing, leaving only dented armor and bloodstains behind. “Thanks Drea,” he says as he shoves the wagon with his shoulder. Sharra joins in and soon the wagon is moving again.

***

          They stop briefly in Montinelle to restock supplies. It is a much nicer place since the last duke was beheaded. The guards who had once been so oppressive have been replaced and the stronghold has become a thriving marketplace. The first inn to be built in the small outpost is under construction and should be done by mid winter. A feeling of hope for the future permeates everything and everyone. It will probably die out when the first thieves’ guild organizes in town. There are benefits to having harsh rulership sometimes.
          The party moves on the next morning. They pass through more farmlands and hills for days. The monotony of travel is broken briefly as they see a single man standing in the road. He is wearing leather armor with a thick beard. A halberd is held loosely in his hand. “Halt!”
          Guf mutters to himself, “Let me guess… there’s a road tax. I hate bandits.”
          Sharra stops the wagon and allows the man to approach. “Can I help you sir?”
          “Yes, yes you can. I was wondering if ya knew anything about the local bandits. I’m trying to join em ya see.”
          The four exchange odd glances with each other, unsure what to make of this fellow. Guf is the first one to speak, “No, we don’t know anything about bandits sir, though I do not think that this is a wise choice of profession.”
          The man leans against his halberd, “And why not?” Guf sighs, “Is that your father’s halberd?”
          “No… it’s mine.”
          “Well for one thing it’s hardly a proper weapon for a bandit. That’s a guard’s weapon.”
          “But I like my halberd.”
          “Okay okay, so you like your halberd. Tell me, how would you like it if I were to beat you up or possibly kill you just to take your stuff?”
          “I wouldn’t like that much at all.”
          “You’re right, that’s what bandits do though. You don’t want to be a bandit.”
          The man pauses and smirks. He then begins to laugh as he grows. The leathers fade away and his clothes now consist of furs stitched together. Soon he is standing well over ten feet, his hearty laugh booming above their heads. “I like you folks. The name is Jerold.”
          The group slowly tracks their eyes up to Jerold’s face, still much at a loss for words. Guf once again speaks up first, “Guf… So you don’t want to be a bandit right?”
          Jerold chuckles, “Nah, I never did. I herd sheep mostly. I’ve been lookin for a bunch of bandits that have been bothersome in the area. I was sorta hopin ye’d know how ta find em. Since ya don’t, here, take a couple of these.” He reaches into a sack hanging at his hip and pulls out three large jars. Well, large jars to a human anyway, they look like small vials in Jerold’s hands. “If ya happen across them bandits, toss this stuff on em. Every critter in 50 miles’ll be comin ta chew em out. Jest be sure not ta open it, spill it, break it or anything like that. If it gits on ya it’s not comin out for a while.”
          Sharra opens her mouth, “Thank you Jerold we’ll make good use of it though we’d prefer not to meet bandits at all. We should get going though.”
          “Oh, sure sure, that’s fine lil lady. Be sure ta say hi when ye all come around next time.”
          “Oh we will.” Sharra mumbles, “Let’s get outa here,” and gets the horses going again. The friendly giant waves to them as they head down the road as quickly as possible.

***

          It is late the next evening when they arrive at the Drake and Castle Inn, a waypoint at a crossroads on the path. Most of the customers at this inn tend to be pilgrims on their way to the Shrine of Nevron in the mountains to the east. Now is no exception. A group of perhaps twenty pilgrims make their way into the common room to rest for the night. Sharra goes to the owner at the bar and pays for board in the common room. Drea says, “It’ll be nice to have a bed for the night, even if I have to share a room with a bunch of other people. Good night everyone.”
          Arden nods and goes to bed as well. Guf glances about, uncomfortable with the idea of leaving himself vulnerable all night. He pulls Sharra aside, “I know that most of the people here are pilgrims, but there may be thieves among them. We should take turns keeping watch tonight.”
         Sharra sighs, “Very well, you take first watch, and I’m going to sleep.”
          Guf nods and takes a seat in the front by the bar. The owner says, “We’re closing down for the night, so if you want something to eat or drink you’ll have to wait until tomorrow.
          “That’s fine, I just am not tired yet and do not wish to disturb the others. Have a good night.” “Thanks, you too buddy.”
          The owner goes to sleep and Guf sits alone in the darkened room. Dull moonlight outlines his surroundings. He pulls out his sword and polishes it, then sharpens it as time passes. He had been given this blade by his order when he became a paladin. It has a silvery blade that glows a faint yellow in the darkness. The pommel is shaped like the head of an owl. It was magically attuned to him when he swore his oath and would grow in strength as he did. He could remember the day vividly. He had been given three trials to pass. The trials were devoted to the three principles of Athena: Craft, Battle, and Honor. Though it was extremely demanding, he passed these trials and stood before the Aegis Exemplar herself and pledged himself to the Holy Order of the Aegis Cavalier. He quietly says the oath to himself, an oath that he has said many times before. “Always keep the craft of the Goddess, teach it to those in need. Be ever vigilant of innocents and those in your charge. Stand against injustice and evil wherever it may be. Live true to this oath and be prepared to die for it.”
          His musings are disrupted by the sounds of hoof beats approaching. He gets to his feet, ready for action and starts to approach the window. With a loud crash, every window crashes inwards, a large stone landing inside. Guf shouts, “Everyone wake up! We’re under attack!” and begins to shove tables up against the windows. Outside, a large number of bandits approach with torches and start to storm the front door. Arden awakens to the shouts, as do a handful of pilgrims. The sound of battle in the bar snaps him to consciousness and he rushes out to see what is happening. Pilgrims grumble and stumble about, still not quite aware what is going on.
          Arden arrives in the bar to see Guf at the front door battling with several bandits who push through the front door. Three fall, another is knocked aside and cut deeply. He quickly downs a red potion as more bandits charge in to tackle the paladin.
          Arden mumbles an incantation, imagining a large ball of fire outside the window. Screams and a vague smell of searing flesh confirms that he had managed to get a few of the bandits. The power of suggestion actually causes their flesh to melt. He gets to the window as three more bandits start to climb in. Holding his hands out in a fan pattern, flames shoot forth and reduce the men to bones.
          Guf is tackled to the ground and beaten with short swords which dent and ding into his armor. The man with the potion finishes it up, his muscles now bulging disgustingly. He holds his wounded stomach to help stop the bleeding as he plunges his short sword into the paladin. It buries deep into a chink in the armor and blood begins to leak from the hole.
          Sharra enters the bar with her machete ready just as two bandits stream in, heading for the common room. They swing at her and she narrowly avoids both blades as she clips the hand of one of the men with her bone blade. A spear thrusts from the darkness behind her and stabs one of the men, who falls in a gush of blood. Drea rips her spear back and readies a second thrust for the other bandit.
          Three more men stream in from the windows and toss their torches at Arden. His clothes catch fire and a magical shielding around him vanishes. He drops to the ground to put out the fire as the three start beating on him. Guf gets to his feet and in a blinding flash of movement, clubs one bandit in the head and kills two others with his sword. The man with the potion falls as his muscles burst from a sword slice. A handful of bandits remain. They glance at their fallen comrades and flee, jumping on their horses and riding off. The owner comes down to see what all the commotion is about and sees the chaos as the bandits flee. He shakes Guf’s hand and says, “Thank you sir, my name is Draken. I cannot thank you enough for defending my inn.”
          The others quickly look through the pockets of the men, finding half a dozen potions, half of which are red, and half are blue. Arden and Drea take one of each and hand the last two to Guf. “It is no trouble sir, but perhaps we should see about getting the others before we consider ourselves safe for the night.”
          Sharra pipes up, “If you guys are going to hunt bandits, you can count me out. I don’t need to be risking my life more than I already do.”
          “Not a problem,” Guf says, “Come on guys lets get on the horses of the fallen bandits outside, maybe they know their way home.”
          The three of them get onto the bandits’ horses and kick them to a start. The horses turn around and start heading east towards the mountains. After twenty minutes of riding the horses turn south along the edge of the mountains. Within another hour they arrive at a cave. The horses enter the empty cave and stop, stepping gently at the ground. Guf says, “Well, I guess this is the place. Let’s look around, see if there’s a door or something around here.”
         They split up and search the walls, rubbing them for notches, knocking for hollow points. Drea turns and accidentally hits a stalagmite. It tips slightly and a wall rolls away, revealing a small hallway, lit by torches. Voices echo up ahead.
          “Damnit Menlow! You said there’d only be pilgrims there! We lost a lot of good men there and for nothing!”
          “Calm down! Calm down! Look, we’ll find more men and take care of the folks that did this okay?"
          “You didn’t see these guys in action. Two of them killed a dozen of us without a problem. Sammy even used one of those potions you gave us!”
          Arden mumbles an incantation and forms another mental explosion at the end of the hall. Drea and Guf charge forth in time to see corpses hitting the ground both human and equine. A door slams shut and there is a second slam as a bar is locked into place on the other side. Arden gestures towards the door and a fiery bolt strikes the door, cracking and charring the wood. Guf strikes the door a few times. It starts to splinter, then finally shatters revealing another hall with several doors on either side and another at the end. They open each door as they move down the hall. They each appear to be bed quarters, and all are empty. The final door gives way to a larger room with two doors, and a table to one side. A voice begs from behind the right one, “I can give you much treasure if you let me live! I don’t wanna fight!”
          Guf walks to the door and pounds it, “Open the door and turn yourself in, you will not be harmed if you cooperate.”
          “Can I just go?”
          “No, that won’t be an option, but if you keep this door closed I will be breaking it down and your head afterwards.”
          The door clicks unlocked and swings open. The head of a man peeks out timidly, “Please I don’t mean you any harm. Please don’t hurt me.”
          Guf ties the man up and shoves him towards the exit. Drea takes hold of him and leads him out. “Lets check out the other room,” says Arden, “I bet there’s treasure in there.”
          They open the door and sure enough it is filled with stolen loot. Mostly trinkets and heirlooms and a shelf of assorted potions, each nicely labeled. Arden runs a finger along the labels and there is a click, followed by a loud hiss. Guf quickly covers his mouth with a cloth as Arden does the same. They choke and cough but manage to leave the room before inhaling enough of the gas to affect them. The hiss stops and a green mist slowly trickles out the door. Once the room is breathable again, they enter the room once more. There are 4 sets of 4 potions, each a different color and each labeled. One says dragon’s breath, another says sleep, the third set says strength and the last set says health. By the time they can gather up their newfound loot, Drea has already secured the man to a horse with some rope. “Come on boys, I’m sure we can drop this fella off somewhere, but I just want to get some sleep.
          After a bit over an hour of riding, they arrive back at the Drake and Castle inn, greeted by Draken, who instantly recognizes the prisoner they have in tow. “Menlow! You no good son of a bitch! I am gonna beat you so hard, ye’ll be wishin I killed ya!” Menlow attempts to duck out of the way, but bound as he is, Draken just pummels him over the head. Guf asks “I’m assuming it will be alright if I just leave him in your care then?”
          “Oh ya got that right! This no good brother in law of mine’s gonna pay fer the damages he’s done outa his hide!”

***

          It is a rather uneventful week or so, only the occasional caribou herd breaks the monotony of travel. Soon they arrive in Coldwater and purchase supplies for the coming harsh journey. Sharra then leads them to an inn and tavern called “The Icicle”. It is the only tavern in town and so business is brisk. Trappers, hunters and traders all relax here after the long day’s work. It is loud with the sounds of cheers, laughter and conversation. At the bar, a man sits alone. His dark black armor and cloak make him stick out in the crowd. A two handed sword is strapped to his back. The blade is as black as midnight and the guard has a single red gem in the center which seems to swirl ominously in the light. A couple of the locals lean on him, one says “So, come to be dark and brooding pretty boy? That was my herd ya done scared off. Yer gonna pay fer it.”
          “You tell him Earl!” shouts the other man.
          “Shutup Roy,” he snaps back.
          The man in black waves the two away, and takes a sip from his mug and places it back on the bar. “Maybe you didn’t hear what I said,” says Earl as he tips the mug over onto the man in black’s lap, “I said yer gonna pay fer the herd ya done scared off.”
          The black clad man glances down at his lap and brushes the fluid away as best he can. The room goes silent, mutters of “He aughtn’a done that” fill the room. He gets to his feet and takes hold of his blade. Before Earl and Roy can even utter another word, their bodies clump to the ground in a spray of blood. The bartender shakily approaches as he cautiously says, “No offense Raif, as I know they were kinda askin for it… but could you please be a little more gentle with my customers?”
          “Sorry about that friend, here’s something to pay for the mess, and their tabs.” Raif tosses a small pouch of gold coins, more than enough to pay for the tabs of everyone in the room for the next month.
          The bartender quickly gathers the pouch and puts it away, then drags the bodies outside. Sharra approaches and says, “Hello Raif, getting in trouble as usual I see.”
          “It does have a habit of following me. Who are your friends here?”
          “These are some people I hired for the expedition you agreed to help me with. This is Drea, Arden, and Guf.”
          Raif nods and says, “They know anything about adventuring in the north?”
          “Probably not, but we’ve gotten some supplies before leaving they should be alright.”
          “You tell em about the Dead Mountains?”
          “No, but I suppose now is as good a time as any.”
          Guf speaks up, “So, are they called the Dead Mountains because they’re swarming with undead or something?”
          Sharra shakes her head, “No nothing quite so distasteful, though I wouldn’t be surprised to find some up there. But then I’m not surprised to find them anywhere lately.” Sharra pulls out a rough map and puts it on the bar before continuing. “These here are the Dead Mountains, they form a natural border between Dunador and the north. These mountains are icy and treacherous, but that is not our worst concern. The mountains are home to remorhaz. These are giant ice worm creatures that are highly resistant to magic and most normal weapons melt when they touch the creature’s body. They have an intense internal body heat that incinerates anything they manage to swallow. When passing through these mountains it is not so much a matter of if we will find one of these so much as how many. Luckily they are generally solitary creatures so we should not see more than one or two at a time.”
          “Do they have any weaknesses? Suggested ways to attack them?” Guf asks.
          “Well, magical weapons generally seem to stand up to the heat, so there’s that. Arrows would be another thing to use for two reasons. One, ya don’t have to get near the thing, and two it doesn’t matter if the arrows burn up when you use them as ya have more ta shoot.”
          “I can keep us hidden with my magics,” says Arden, “I think if we don’t have to fight em at all that would be best.”
          “I agree with that completely,” says Drea.
          Sharra nods, “Not having to fight them is of course the best option and if we can avoid them completely, so much the better.”
          Raif waves his hand dismissively, “Now that we know what we are going to be doing, I suggest everyone get some rest. It is a long journey ahead and you want to all be at your best.”

***

          Arden awakens in the night, the grumbling irritation of hunger shaking his stomach. He gets out of bed and heads downstairs, hoping there might be someone around who can feed him. He is in luck, a beautiful waitress is cleaning the tables for the night. She has short black hair and walks with grace in an outfit that accentuates both her curves and her tips from her male and some of her female customers. She smiles as she notices Arden enter the room. She leans over a table, wiping it down slowly as she asks, “Hello handsome, can I help you with anything?”
          He rubs his arms to fight off the chill from the late fall evening as he takes a seat and nods, “I’ll have some stew if it’s possible.”
          She winks, “Anything for you handsome.” She walks off, her hips swaying as though in slow motion. Arden’s clothes begin to itch as soon as she is out of sight. He scratches and scratches then looks around to see what could possibly be causing such irritation. Catnip is rapidly sprouting from his clothing. Before he can do anything else, he hears a mewing sound. Looking down, there is cat sitting at his feet. He panics and gets up on his seat, the very sight of a cat filling him with terror. A few more walk in next to it, then a few more, and a few more, and a few more. Soon the floor is a blanket of mewing cats. They stare at Arden, licking their lips hungrily.
          “Here you go handsome,” sounds the voice of the waitress as she places a bowl on the table. He pants rapidly and gulps as he looks down at his stew. Upon the table is a bowl of milk, and the waitress to his horror is a large humanoid cat. She smiles for the briefest of moments before letting out a hiss and biting into his side. Through the pain he hears the faintest of whispers, “Will you always live in fear smoke blower?”
          The rest of the cats pounce and tear into him and Arden screams. He bolts upright in his bed, glancing about in the inn room as he tries to catch his breath. There is a pain in his side and he glances down, pulling up his shirt. Tiny fang marks glisten with a slight touch of blood.

***

          Guf sits by himself at the bar. A shadowy figure passes him a drink, speaking in the deep throaty voice of shadowy figures everywhere, “Hello again young paladin. Have you considered what we spoke of last time?”
          Guf polite pushes away the drink and says, “You are an evil creature. You prey on the innocent when they are unable to defend themselves. I will do nothing by your will.”
          “You seek glory and honor, I can guide you. Agree to kill Dr Illhousen and your enemies will flee at the mention of you and your holy blade.”
          “If he is an evil man, this will come to light and he will be brought to justice.”
          “He killed your sister! How many innocents must die at his hand before you choose to act?”
          “If I kill him, it will be because his evil acts have been proven, not because you asked me to.”
          “Whatever the reason young paladin, make sure it gets done. For your sake, and for the sake of your other sister.” Guf awakens in his bed and mutters to himself before rolling over and going back to sleep.

***

          “So can you fix these marks Drea?” Arden asks as he holds up the side of his shirt.
          “What marks? Put your shirt back down. I swear if this is some weird way of hitting on me I will spear you so quick you will think you were born riddled with stab wounds.”
          “I’m telling you there’s a bite right there! Look!”
          “There’s nothing THERE Arden. Drop it, it’s not funny.”
          Raif walks over to the two, his armor stowed with the bartender so he would not have to worry about it becoming rusted during the trip. “If you love bugs don’t stop quarreling we’re gonna leave you here. We are heading out now.”
          Arden drops his shirt side back down irritably and walks off to the cart as Drea shakes her head and follows. They all get onto the wagon and head for the dead mountains.
          It is another week and a half trip getting to the small pass that would allow them to cross relatively quickly. No roads go that way and they travel through an endless sea of grass, swaying gently in the wind. Wolves often hunt here, though they generally stay away from humans unless starved. Using bows they manage to take out a few for food and pelts. Eventually they arrive at the foot of the mountains. Further travel by cart is impossible due to narrow, rocky trails and icy paths. They leave the wagon behind and let the horses graze. They tie a rope to each other as Arden weaves an incantation. When he is done everyone is hidden from sight, with subtle footprints marking their invisible travel.
          The way is slow, but the path is not long. At this point the mountains take only a day to cross. Sleeping in these mountains is generally as good as suicide, though any travel through here is not much better. Winter is beginning, though in these snow capped mountains, it is just about always winter. They trudge forth with Guf in the lead when suddenly he trips over something in the snow. Four huge apelike creatures with white fur spring from the snow, searching about for whatever prey just stumbled into them. The one who was stepped on sniffs and snarls, swinging about for Guf, who has already stepped away quietly. It growls and croons to the others, still trying to grab at Guf. Eventually they give up and bury themselves in the snow.
          They continue on, coming to a natural ice bridge. “This bridge here will save us a good 2 hours if we cross it, but it’s pretty dangerous and I don’t think it could hold all of us at once, we’ll have to go one at a time if we do.”
          “I’m all for getting through here faster,” Guf says, “As dangerous as a fall is, it’s less dangerous than a remorhaz. Besides it only looks about 60 feet, and there’s snow at the bottom, it probably won’t kill us.”
          Drea nods, “As positive as Guf makes a fall sound, I’d rather not fall. But he is right we should take the shortcut if possible.”
          With no one dissenting, they remove their ropes and begin crossing one by one. Mom and Pop bound across the bridge first, their paws having no problem keeping traction as they race each other across the narrow bridge. They bark and wag their tails at the end, waiting for everyone else. Then Guf goes across, the ice cracks under his weight of his heavy metal armor. It stays in tact long enough for him to cross however. Sharra crosses next, moving by with little difficulty. Then comes Arden. He moves across with little effort, but his foot gets too close to the edge as he is going across and the ice snaps under his foot. He slams down onto the bridge the slips off, falling in a poof of soft snow at the bottom. Guf calls down to the hole in the snow, “Are you okay down there?”
          Arden lays motionless and still invisible in the snow. He is alive but the wind has been knocked out of him. He painfully attempts to gasp in a breath then says, “Ow… I think I broke… everything.”
          Guf ties a few lengths of rope together, forming a loop at the end and tosses it down to Arden. “Slip that around you and tighten it as best you can, Drea will fix you when we get you up, assuming she doesn’t fall too. Don’t fall by the way Drea.”
          Drea mutters to herself as she gets ready to cross. “Thanks for the tip Guf.” She sighs and walks across carefully, managing to get there at about the same time as Arden is pulled up. Raif follows up as Drea heals up Arden’s broken bones. Her prayers snap Arden’s bones back in place and seal them tightly together as good as new. “You keep getting beaten up like that and Athena will stop allowing me to heal you.” Drea says with a snicker.
          “Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Lets just keep going.”
          They manage another few minutes down the path when an ice wall erupts. Guf dodges forward just in time for the head of a remorhaz to crash through where he had been standing, separating him from everyone else. The creature raises up in the air, flapping its fin-like protrusions as it gazes about looking for the meal that had been causing all the racket up to here. Guf quietly drinks one of the strength potions and strikes from behind. He gets a lucky hit and pierces the creature deeply, and nearly severing it through. Drea drinks a potion of dragon’s breath and blows a stream of fire at the creature which disperses harmlessly but reveals her location to the creature nicely. It quickly strikes down at her and bites, searing off a small chunk of flesh. Guf takes this opportunity to finish the creature off, which slumps to the ground.
          The entire pass is blocked off by the carcass of this creature and Guf attempts to get around it by going down the tunnel the creature had burst through. The tunnel is made of smooth ice which he slips on and falls. He slides down hundreds of feet and comes to a stop in front of another remorhaz. Quickly jumping to his feet, he strikes with superhuman strength granted by the magical potion in his veins. The creature is knocked back slightly then rears in for a strike. Its sharp teeth and fiery breath glance off of his armor but knock him down. He dodges out of the way as the creature slams down to swallow him then slices it across the jaw on his way up. It roars in pain from the strike, which is just enough of a delay for Guf to strike downwards and sever its spine. With it dead, its body unrolls a little to reveal two eggs. “You okay down there?” comes the voice of Arden from somewhere up the tunnel.
          “Yeah I’m fine, don’t come down here, it’s slippery. I’ll try to come up. If you can throw a rope, it would help.” Guf crushes the eggs and carefully attempts to climb up the tunnel. He falls a few times but eventually gets far enough to reach the rope that Arden had thrown down the slick tunnel for him and manages to get back up to the surface. “Did you find anything down there?” asks Sharra.
          “No, nothing at all.”
          “Okay, let’s keep going then, we’re almost across. Then it’s just a short trip to Puttak and from there Novularond where the inugaakalakurit live.”

***

          The artic lands of the north are a harsh place to live. Subzero temperatures, harsh weather, and scarcity of food are the worst to worry about usually. Still, even in these deadly conditions some life has managed to maintain existence. The town of Puttak is inhabited completely by humans. They are a practical people, taking only what they need and dealing only with matters that are required for survival. The town is widely known (in the frozen north at least) for its fine kupuk, a large doglike creature with fangs that extend from its mouth and two tails. They make fine pets as they are highly protective of children and their size is ideal for pulling sleds. Magic is almost nonexistent among these people because in a land where survival is so difficult, there is usually little time to devote to matters of sorcery. Still even here there are those who are fascinated by the arcane.
          One of the homes in this town appears to be a snow house, not dissimilar from its neighbors. It is a simple domed dwelling with a tunnel-like opening. Just outside, two ice statues of young white dragons battle stand frozen, locked in combat. In this home lives Mafwik, the only anagakok in town. An anagakok is a magic user who through specialized training has managed to master the artic terrain to the point in which warm clothing is no longer needed. Mafwik is an older man who wears loose clothing. His body is covered with white fur which keeps him warm in the iciest of temperatures. He is happily working on some magical device when Sharra crawls into the snow house, followed by Guf, Drea, and Arden. “Hello Mafwik, it’s nice to see you again,” says Sharra as she brushes some snow off of her clothes.
          “Sharra! Oh it is so nice to see you! Who are your friends?”
          “Well, Raif’s waiting outside with the dogs, this is Guf, Drea and Arden. I hired them to help with the inugaakalakurit problem out west. You still have my sled I trust?”
          “Of course I do. It’s right over here.” The old man rummages under a few pelt piles and pulls out a large sled, just barely able to fit through the door. “How are Mom and Pop? They still have the collars I made them?”
          Sharra shuffles uncomfortably, “They ah… lost them somehow. Must have come off while they were playing or something. Thanks for holding the sled for me though.”
          “Oh it was no trouble at all. Are your friends here interested in magic?”
          Sharra stands behind Mafwik and rapidly shakes her head and hands while mouthing “NO!!!” Guf nods slightly and says, “While I am sure you are quite a capable sorcerer, we must unfortunately be going. It was nice meeting you.”
          Drea also gets the hint and says, “Yes, it was nice meeting you perhaps we can hear about your magical wares some other time.” Sharra, Drea and Guf quickly head back through the tunnel, dragging the sled outside. “Magic you say?” asks Arden, “What kind of magic do you have?”
          “Oh many many things! I have a self propelled kayak,” he says as he motions to a kayak that looks as though it is about to fall apart. “I also have magical ice arrows,” he motions towards a few arrows made of ice which appear to be melting rapidly. “There is a magical rock which I’m not sure what it does, but I am very sure that it is most magical. I made the sculptures outside myself. They are also magical, though I am not sure how to make them move just yet… Or control them when I do. Anyway is there anything you want that you see? Or perhaps I could make you something!”
          Arden glances around at the magical items in question and quickly says, “I am sorry, while these items all look quite good, they aren’t really what I had in mind, and my friends appear to be leaving. I’ll see you again sometime Mafwik.”
          “Okay, take care you all. Hope you do well with those frost giants.”

***

          Guf trades some pelts and flint with a kupuk trainer for two kupuk and two sleds and soon they are all on their way to Novularond. Sharra rides upon her own sled through the snow followed by Raif and Drea upon one sled, and Guf and Arden upon another. The days are dismal and cloudy and the weather is mild for the most part. When the clouds clear, the sun gleams off the white snow and ice painfully, causing the sky and ground to blend together and make navigation troublesome at best.
          They come to a stop as they see a group of twenty or so fishermen as well as several polar bears fishing peacefully near a large hole in the ice. They approach and one of the fishermen hails them. He is a rather beefy looking man, wearing stitched furs and a red faced grin. “Greetings, I am Akkanuit of the Rissiki tribe, have you anything to trade?”
          Guf shakes his head, “Not really friend. We are just passing through.”
          Akkanuit smiles and motions towards the hole, “Come join us in fishing, this spot is quite plentiful.” Guf glances back at the others who all shrug together, “I do not see why not. Thank you for your generous offer friend.”
          Akkanuit was not kidding when he said the spot was plentiful. At least for ice lands at any rate. Within a few hours, everyone had enough fish to last a few days, including an uncommon, oily black fish which secreted enough oil to burn for quite a few days. Before it gets dark, they build shelter and eat around a warm fire. Akkanuit asks, “Where are you all headed in such a rush anyway?”
          “Novularond,” says Sharra as she gulps down a bite of fish then tosses a couple of pieces to Mom and Pop, “We are going to try to put an end to the frost giant attacks upon the inugaakalakurit who live there.”
          “That is quite a tall snowdrift you attempt to slush through. You will be heading out to them in the Akkari mountains no doubt. Perhaps you wish a guide? My son Nanakuit is quite the tracker and he will insure you do not get into any avalanches while in the mountains.”
          Guf wipes some fish oil from his face and says, “That is most generous of you Akkanuit. I assume that such a service does not come without a price?”
          Akkanuit laughs a loud bellowing laugh, “Of course my friend. One does not risk the life of his son for free. Ten isks of oil, provided he comes back to me in one piece.”

***

          Travel for the next few days is long and rather uninteresting. The horizon is barren for miles around and everyone is silent except for Nanakuit, who sings to himself as they ride along.
          Raif breaks the monotony by speaking to Guf as their sleds move beside each other. “So you are a paladin? How have you been enjoying that?”
          “I have trained my life for this role, it is one I gladly accept.”
          “Ah, so you are still optimistic about being strict to your ideals eh?”
          “What do you mean by that Raif?”
          “Oh nothing at all friend, nothing at all. I just know of the rigors of paladinhood and also know that such ideals are not always the best of judgment.”
          “Of course it is the best of judgment! How could it not be good judgment to uphold what is just and good?”
          “I am just saying, not always are things black and white and sometimes viewing things as such can get you into trouble.”
          “The words you speak are those of a man who has lost his way and if he is not careful may slip to evil.”
          Raif smirks and shakes his head, “Perhaps we can continue this again when you are not so… excited. Though if you wish to explore life beyond paladinhood, feel free to speak to me.”

***

          The native people of Novularond are all inugaakalakurit, a cousin to dwarves. They are far more peace loving than their distant warmer counterparts. Their skin is fair and pale and their hair varies in shades of blonde. Some unknown part of their physiology allows them to live through the coldest of temperatures with little discomfort. As such, they tend to wear loose fitting garb that most would freeze in. Instead of hunting and foraging as many other humanoid tribes in the area do to survive, the inugaakalakurit raise rabbits and fish. While normally disturbingly peaceful, they are highly interested in weapons. Most have large collections of weapons both local and exotic. When presented a new weapon, they have no problem spending hours discussing the merits of the weapon. Why anyone would be so obsessed with how well balanced a weapon is that will at most be hanging on a wall is beyond explanation, but then again, it is not unlike many humans. Two figures currently argue as a crowd watches idly, vaguely entertained.
          To the left, an inugaakalakurit male wildly waves his hands as he argues in a most uninugaakalakurit like way, “How much longer must we suffer at the wrath of the frost giants? We moved here generations ago to escape their tyranny! Now they come from Mount Akkari to take our families and friends away! We must fight them!”
          To the right, a human male who looks about old enough to have seen the dwarves move, holds up his hands in a gesture of peace, “You are foolish Johmm. War will get you nowhere! They are stronger and could kill us all if they chose to. Rather than make them our enemies, we should negotiate peace with them. Perhaps a small offering would keep them at bay and perhaps they might guard this town from others rather than attack us for food and slaves.”
          “No! You are foolish Inum! They only take few of our number now, but it is only a matter of time before they take or kill all of us. We cannot wait around for that to happen!”
          The crowd responds to each speaker with a roaring response of apathy. A slight cough is about all that is heard in support of either. Slowly the crowd parts as Guf works his way through to the debate in progress. “Excuse me, if you are done calling each other foolish for a moment, I believe we can be of assistance. In fact we have been hired to be of assistance.”
          Sharra shuffles forward and says, “These are the adventurers I’ve hired. They seem skillful enough, the big loud one killed a remorhaz just about by himself, then of course there’s Raif who could probably do about the same. They should be more than match enough for a giant or two.”
          Johmm gazes about at the party then after a moment he nods, “Indeed, they seem quite capable, and honestly I rather risk your lives than those of my countrymen. Let us feast to our saviors that they may have plenty of strength for their coming confrontation!”
          The apathy is instantly dispelled at the mention of the word “feast”. The crowd cheers and leaps to prepare a great meal for the night. By sunset a table is laid out in the snow, surrounded by many fires to keep the table and food warm. The meal consists of about twenty different dishes, all of which contain either fish, rabbit or both. The only spices available seem to be salt and some sort of pepper derived from a plant that manages to grow called the fireflower. The meal is not terribly interesting, but it is tasty and filling enough. Soon the group heads off to bed while the inugaakalakurit dance and party throughout the night. Somehow, rest is had through the dancing, singing, and pounding music.

***

          It is mid afternoon when they reach the foot of the Akkari mountains. The wind blows icily as they leave behind their sleds. Guf had decided that Sharra should stay behind in the village while they dealt with the giants, a decision she had no intention of arguing with. By sunset they crouch behind a few large rocks. “That is the cave,” says Nanakuit in a low whisper, “Of this I am sure. I will watch the entrance while you enter, if such is your plan.”
          As soon as the words leave his lips, a man in winter clothes leaves the cave. He glances around and then heads off through the mountains into the early evening. Guf circles around and follows him, soon catching up. “Hey you! Sir! Stop!”
          The man pauses and gazes in Guf’s direction, his pale skin almost appearing blue in the moonlight, “Yes?”
          “You just came out of that cave.”
          “My, you ARE observant.”
          “What I mean is, aren’t there giants in that cave?”
          “Of course.”
          “And you just came from there.”
          “Yes, I was checking in on friends.”
          “Friends? Out here?”
          “Yes friends, I am conducting research for the moment until I decide to travel to warmer climes.”
          “Can you tell me anything about the giants?”
          “Most likely.”
          The man turns and continues on his path. Guf follows and continues his questioning, “What is your name by the way?”
          “Sorul.”
          “I’m Guf.”
          “I am sure it is nice to meet you Guf, but I really must be going.”
          “Okay okay. Have a good night.”
          Guf returns to the others as Sorul disappears into the darkness. Arden points at the darkened cave, “There’s movement in there, probably guards. You find out anything from the weird guy?”
          “Not really, he must have shelter nearby, I don’t think he would be walking through the mountains at night if he did not. Anyway, we should do this as quickly as possible so as not to get swarmed.”
          Raif nods, “I agree, you and I can charge in while the other two provide magical backup.”
          Drea says, “Lets just get this done already, it is freezing out here! Try not to get too beat up okay?”
          They sneak up to the edge of the cave and see two men standing about 20 feet tall. Guf hands a strength potion to Raif as Arden quietly mutters an incantation which makes everyone fade into invisibility. The guards speak in the language of giants, which consists mostly of grunts and chest thumping. One says, “I just saying, guarding this place stupid. What hurt us here?”
          “Don’t talk stupid Grok. You know why we watch gate. What if Haas show up?”
          Grok unfortunately never gets to respond to that question as twin blades cut both giants into pieces before they have a chance to react. The corpses slump to the ground near a large ice portcullis. The portcullis has no pulleys or cranks to move it, the natural giant strength needed to move it being more than enough of a deterrent for most things that would wish to get through it. Fueled by magical strength, Guf and Raif have absolutely no problem lifting it. They enter the simple tunnel system which branches in several ways. Shouts and cheering in one direction, giggling and baby cries in another, barking dogs in the next and silence from the last. Raif and Guf head towards the shouts, the enchantment that had been masking them now broken. Arden and Drea follow invisibly behind.
          Five giants stand in a circle around a couple of wrestling inugaakalakurit while several more of the artic dwarves stand just outside the circle, some bruised, some waiting until it is their turn to wrestle. The giants cheer and make bets as the fighting goes on, too engrossed in their game to notice Raif and Guf sneaking up behind them. Two fall as the others reach for weapons to attack.
          Arden pictures in his mind the fiercest remorhaz, quickly shaping the image of one charging into the room. One of the giants screams in agony as the illusionary creature tears into him. Seeing their companions taken so quickly the remaining two gulp but charge at the two warriors, axes drawn. One axe glances off of Guf’s armor, denting it a bit and causing some bleeding. The other axe knocks Raif back, clipping his shoulder. With the benefit of surprise no longer available, the two warriors renew their attacks on the remaining two giants. One giant strikes Guf as his ankles are taken out from beneath him. He falls onto bone, balancing painfully on the bony stilts his legs have become for the briefest of moments before collapsing in a heap of pain and blood loss. Raif barely ducks away from an incoming swing and leaps upwards, taking out the giant’s Achilles tendon. He ducks out of the way of the falling body and slices upwards into the screaming giant’s throat who dies in a sickening splash of gore.
          The inugaakalakurit quietly back away, not wishing to be targets of the intruders. The people quickly rifle through the room, grabbing what valuables the giants had stowed in their beds of furs which pile around the room. With the help of Arden who uses his spells to detect for magic, they find several treasures amidst piles of filth and refuse. They find a large amount of gold coins, a magical bag, a magical horn, some potions labeled “Health” and “Quickness” and a discarded magical scroll, all of which is collected and stored. Guf approaches one of the cowering inugaakalakurit. “Do not be frightened, we are here to help. Sharra hired us.”
          They relax a bit and one approaches, “Then we are glad for the help, what is your plan now?”
          “Well, do you know where the leader is?”
          “Sure, he’s just up the central tunnel, should be by himself at the moment. What do you want us to do?”
          “Just wait here until we come back for you.”
          “I like that plan! See you when you get back.”
          Arden recasts his spell and makes everyone invisible once again before heading towards the leader’s room. The current Jarl of the Icerock tribe is a man named Gromnir Yomgaar. His pet of choice is the winter wolf, a species of wolf native to these freezing lands. They are generally quite vicious and capable of freezing victims to death through a chilly blast of icy breath which they can blow once every ten minutes or so. They are larger than a horse, with teeth that can easily tear a man to shreds. Gromnir is currently happily playing with four of them in much the same way a child wrestles around with a litter of puppies.
          Guf, Arden and Drea sneak into the room and each gulp down a potion of dragon breath. The ensuing mass of superheated magical flame kills each of the winter wolves and leaves Gromnir severely burnt, luckily the bodies of his slain pets absorbed enough of the flame that it did not kill him outright. Biting back tears for his fallen companions, Gromnir raises his hands in the universal sign of surrender. He speaks in slightly broken common, “Please! No more. You have big magic and I cannot fight it.”
          Guf draws his blade to the giant’s knee and says “Surrender!”
          Gromnir glances at his raised hands and shrugs, “Okay.”
          “Why have you been attacking the dwarves?”
          “We need them build new place for us.”
          “You will release them and cease your attacks.”
          “You have big magic. We leave them alone if you help us.”
          “You will leave them alone or we kill you.” Guf glances around the room and notices a few sparkles in the room. He nods to Arden and Drea, “Collect up any valuables you find.”
          The two of them find a large amount of money as well as a scroll and the giant’s personal magical sword. Gromnir watches as they gather his precious items and groans. This is a debt that will not be forgotten. It does not take him long to think of a way to get them to work for him and perhaps get them killed in the process. “I tell you how sword works if you help us.” Guf pauses and glances at the giant’s sword. It is a rather large and rather shiny sword. “How does it work?”
          “I no tell until you finish help.”
          “Of course… what do you need done?”
          “We steal little men for work here because we driven out old home. You get old home back, we go back there and bother nobody.”
          “Very well, and how were you driven from this home of yours?”
          “We build new area to common room and find old ruins in wall. Our witchdoctor, Haas Sumtin, say he want look at ruins. He look for much time then he find little man to help him. Soon much of tribe become zombies and the rest of us either killed by zombies or leave for here. Haas Sumtin still in old home. You make home safe, we go back.”
          “Very well. We will stay here the night. In the morning the prisoners all go back with Nanakuit, and we will head to your home. How will we find it?”
          Gromnir smiles with pride, “You go north, you find. Best castle you ever see. We make it. It much better than stupid cave here. You know best giant craft when you see it.”

***

          Sleep was uneasy with the threat of a night ambush by the giants ever present. The giants however seemed to want their home back more than revenge because the night ambush never came. Gromnir was not kidding when he said that they would recognize frost giant craftsmanship when they saw it. The “castle” is at best a large worked cave system with a crudely constructed ice portcullis and a few lookout towers which look like something a four year old created out of white clay. By any other standard it would be considered a work in progress, to the giants, it is a marvel of modern engineering.
          Guf and Raif approach the entrance, unsure what to expect, but pretty sure that it would be nothing good. Within the cavern that leads to the portcullis, there is a slow flash of movement. Their eyes slowly follow up the slithering, decayed form of a long white scaly tail. With a snarl, the rest of the body emerges from the dim cavern. Its eyes are glazed over a milky white and a few of its teeth are hanging oddly from its reptilian mouth. At one point this may have been a white dragon, but its jerky, puppet like movement and rotting flesh proves it to be something else now. Guf swallows another strength potion as Raif charges at the pathetic creature. The dragon raises a claw to swipe at Raif, but it is severed mid swing. The arm swings wildly, coming short of actually striking. Guf runs in slightly behind and deflects the monster’s jaw as it comes in for a bite. The sword slips between the dragon’s teeth then twists and the lower jaw hits the ground with a dull squish. Arden mutters an incantation as he points at the writhing form and a bolt of flame strikes through its body, searing about inside of it before the remains slump to the ground.
          Drea walks over to the portcullis and glances at Guf, “While I’m sure you could lift this thing, I’d like to have a way to get through it without having to worry about you drinking strength potions.”
          Guf cleans the dragon ichor off of his blade as he says, “Then what do you suggest?”
          Drea pulls a vial of oil from her bag, left over from the black fish she caught a few weeks ago. She pours the oil along a few of the bars of the portcullis and lights it on fire. When the fire dies down, she pours more oil and burns it. Twenty minutes pass before a large chunk of the thick bars of ice comes clattering to the ground. The sound echoes into the cavern beyond. A low moan and shuffling sounds from further in echo back in response.
          The dim light reflects off the icy interior as they press forward. Torches sputter and crackle along the walls of a curving tunnel which opens into a large chamber. Upturned tables and chairs too large for any human to use effectively leave telltale signs of a struggle within the chamber. Food lays splattered across the floor, half eaten and now rotting. It is soon apparent what the source of the moaning is as several large bodies lumber forward. Though they appear to be frost giants, it is clear that they have suffered the same fate as the dragon before them. They stumble and trip over benches and tables, going for a straight path towards the party. Arden launches a magical bolt of flame from his fingers at one of the creatures while Guf and Raif once again charge forth. Drea follows less enthusiastically from behind with her spear drawn. The forms surround Raif and Guff, knocking them both to the ground before bending down on their hands and knees to bite. Guf and Raif roll away together, their white and black swords swirling in a yin yang pattern of blades. Raif takes the brunt of the attack as he is beaten down time and again by the truck sized arms. Guf is also seriously smashed about in the fray. His armor does precious little to deflect the blows.
          By the time the enemies are defeated, Raif and Guf can barely stand. Drea mumbles a healing prayer, closing their wounds, removing their bruises and keeping out any chance of infection. When she is done she wipes her brow. Channeling so much of her goddess’s power is not done without effort. She will need rest if her companions continue to take such beatings.
          They continue on from room to room, sweeping out what remnants they can find of the frost giants that had once occupied this cavern. Soon Drea just cannot keep up the healing prayers and they decide to rest for the night. They go through the portcullis and camp in the entrance, taking turns on watch and hoping the portcullis will be warning enough if more of the giants decide to attack.

***

          It is first watch and Guf slowly feels his muscles begin to shake as the last strength potion wears off. The buzz of strength leaves him feeling almost sad. Such power they bring. I will run out of them soon unfortunately. If only I could find a supplier… much evil could be destroyed if I could only find a regular supply of these potions.
          His thoughts are disturbed as he hears shuffling from within the cave. Turning quickly, he sees the portcullis is undisturbed. He turns back around and nearly bumps into Sorul. Guf jumps slightly then catches himself. “Hello? And what are you doing HERE?”
          “Research and visiting friends.”
          “You must be the assistant to the witch doctor that Gromnir was talking about.”
          “I would not say I am an assistant to anyone.”
          “But you know Haas Sumtin though.”
          “Of course.”
          “We’ll probably have to kill him you know.”
          “These things happen.”
          “This does not bother you?”
          “Not at all.”
          “So you would not try to stop us or anything?”
          “I am here to conduct research, whatever petty squabbles you have with frost giants are not my concern.”
          “That is good to hear. From what Gromnir said, the witch doctor may be a bit crazy, would you know anything about that?”
          “To frost giants, anything magical is crazy.”
          “Fair enough.”
          “I really must be going however, enjoy your stay.”
          “Um… yeah. Safe travels to you Sorul.”
          Sorul nods and turns. His cloak swirls behind him as he heads out into the darkness and disappears.

***

          Drea and Arden share the last watch. Raif reported nothing on his watch before going to bed. Drea silently does her morning prayers, begging her goddess for divine strength for the day. Arden studies his spell book and carefully arranges arcane energies into the unused portions of his brain for later use. As they both sit quietly, there is a movement in the chilly air. Arden rubs his hands for warmth, cursing at the cold weather and longing for a journey home.
          A dense fog slowly rolls into the cave, moving from outside in through the portcullis. Arden taps Guf, “Hey Guf… there’s some fog stuff coming into the cave.”
          Guf rolls over groggily and mumbles, “Yes mommy…”
          “Guf! I’m serious! Get up!”
          “You’re on watch you deal with it.”
          Arden mutters and looks around as the fog drifts around him and then disappears into the portcullis as the sun returns.

***

          Oddly enough none of the giants attacked during the night. Movement could be heard throughout the night as they shuffled about within the lair, but they never approached the portcullis. In the morning everyone slips through the hole in the portcullis and resumes their explorations.
          Debris and remains of construction can be seen down one path and they follow it to the newly tunneled expansion Gromnir had spoken about. Eight more of the creatures stand in the center of the chamber. They face a smaller room, excavated from the wall. Within the room, crouched amid shelves of long forgotten books and some ancient altar is a figure as tall and decayed as the others. It bows and chants with an axe in one hand and a large black rod in the other. This must be Haas Sumtin.
          A bolt of flame flies toward Haas and strikes him in the back of the head, disrupting whatever ceremony he was in the middle of. He ducks behind the tall bookshelves for cover before a second one can sear him. The remaining giants turn in time to see Raif and Guf dismembering two of the eight. They converge upon the two and pummel them from all sides.
          Haas begins to chant from his hiding place and a thick fog fills the entire chamber. Drea takes a few steps out of the chamber and finds the fog stops just outside of it. “Come towards my voice if you can! I cannot heal you if I cannot find you!” She holds her hands upwards and prays, “Oh great Athena, goddess of war, please lend me and my companions strength that we may be victorious in this battle.” Almost immediately, a soft glow moves outward from her body and covers her allies, protecting them with divine magic.
          Arden touches one of the walls and slowly navigates through the fog, circling around the chamber towards the room where he last saw Haas. Haas’ chants continue, echoing through the chamber. Guf and Raif stand back to back. Large hands materialize from the fog, smashing them. Raif ducks aside one of the hands and slices up along its length to find the body swinging it. His swing starts at the creature’s groin and goes up then outward, disemboweling the body which slumps with a mighty crash. Guf gets knocked back into Raif, but recovers in time to leap back and slice through the giant’s midsection. The spine severs and it collapses sideways. A hand reaches through the fog and grabs Raif, then slams him into the ground. There is a loud crunching sound as several ribs are broken. Raif painfully raises to his feet and barely manages to parry aside another incoming fist. The attached giant loses his balance and falls forward. Raif’s blade swiftly slices upward and sinks into the hard skull. He braces his foot against the skull and pulls his blade free just in time to be knocked to the ground by another hand. Guf fares little better as two hands come through the fog at him. He slices one arm, nearly severing it and spins into the second which knocks him back slightly. He catches himself only barely. He quietly thanks himself for taking another strength potion before getting into this mess and charges forward, severing each of the two giant’s legs. The last giant swings downwards to finish off Raif but is deflected as Guf slams his sword into its arms. Guf playfully says to Raif, “Perhaps we can continue this again when you are not so… beaten up. Though if you wish to explore a life of paladinhood, feel free to speak to me.”
          Raif mutters and takes a breath. He gets to his feet, though barely, just as Guf finishes off the last giant. “Head back to Drea,” Guf calls out as he charges further into the fog, “Come back to help when she’s patched you up a bit.”
          Guf downs a healing potion and hears an explosion up ahead. Arden drops the bottle to a potion of fire breath, hoping the burst of flame hit Haas. As his eyes strain to see through the fog, claws surge forth and rake across his skin. There is little pain as the wounds stretch across his body. The wounds grow numb and the numbness spreads throughout his body and he collapses, unable to move. Drea stops her protective chant and begins another prayer, “Oh goddess Athena, please dissipate this magical fog so that my companions and I may see our enemies."
          The fog instantly vanishes and Guf sees several humans surrounding Arden’s body. Their hands are elongated into horrible claws. Their lips are stretched tight, giving their mouths a larger appearance with sharp teeth and a long muscular tongue. The ancient bookshelves are burning brightly and Haas is moved aside, chanting curative magic to himself. Sorul is also in the chamber, watching quietly near one of the walls. “Ghouls…” Guf mutters to himself. He stands before them, presenting his owl shaped holy symbol firmly and hoping for Athena’s strength. “By the power of Athena, I command you foul lifeless abominations to be gone!” Righteous energy surges through him and the holy symbol. The ghouls only have a moment’s chance to see what is happening before they vanish, sent back to where they were summoned.
          Raif grabs Arden’s body and drags it over to Drea, where she starts to heal the both of them. Guf runs at Haas who touches one of the stone walls and melts into it. Guf grumbles and shakes his head, then glances about at the books remaining on the shelves. Of the eight shelves of books here, two are not currently aflame. He uses his shield to knock over the shelves that are closest to the non burning ones in hopes of saving the few books left. A few books tumble down on him, scorching him slightly, but he succeeds in saving the remaining books. He glimpses the sparkle of treasure behind the altar for a moment before walking over to Sorul. “What are you doing here?” Guf says.
          “Research.”
          “You pick the strangest places to conduct research.”
          Sorul shrugs and walks over to the burning piles of books. He shakes his head sadly, “That is just a shame.” Guf stares at Sorul in disbelief as the strange man walks towards the bookshelves that survived the fire and disappears behind them. Drea is still in the process of healing both Raif and Arden when Guf returns. “Well, I do not see him anywhere, and the books that Arden did NOT torch should be alright. How is he doing?”
          Drea wipes her brow in between healing chants and says, “He’s not moving, but he’ll live. His body should snap out of it in a minute or two. Where’d your friend the researcher go?”
          “I have no clue. He is one strange man. There are some coins behind the altar. Probably some other stuff too. Not to mention I lost Haas, who knows where he could be.”
          Guf barely manages to finish that sentence before the sickening splot of a five foot tall axe blade crumples Drea to the ground. Raif and Guf spin into action before thinking and before he can manage to lift his blade a second time, the witch doctor known as Haas Sumtin is reduced to body parts. His axe and staff clatter to the ground uselessly and Guf’s holy blade begins to glow. A bright mist swirls out from the corpse of Haas and is sucked into the blade which then ceases glowing.
          Excited, Guf jumps and points at his sword, “Did you see that?! Did you see that!? Oh yeah! That was amazing!” He whips the blood and puss from the blade and kisses it a few times before sheathing it and doing a ridiculous little dance.
          Arden slowly begins to move again and blinks at Guf. Raif stares at Guf as though he had just farted in a funeral. “You are a strange one paladin.” He raises his blade and crashes it down upon the rod, which snaps and sends a red vapor into the air. The vapor swirls for a moment before being sucked into his dark blade. The red gem on its hilt glows for a moment before settling. Raif sheathes his sword and pulls a small eight sided gem from his pocket. Grasping it firmly in his hand, he says, “I am done here.” Within moments a pale woman dressed in a comfortable, loose fitting but highly elegant black dress appears. She glances at Arden for a moment, a vague look of recognition flows over her eyes before she nods to the group. She speaks in a voice that would make Ben Stein sound like Gilbert Gottfried, “I trust your little outing was fruitful Raif.”
          “Of course. Farewell friends, hope you enjoy the trek home, it’s a long one.”
          Guf, Drea, and Arden glance at each other and then back at Raif as the woman touches Raif on the shoulder and they both disappear with a vague sucking sound. Drea is the first one to speak, “So… how are we getting those coins you were talking about and maybe some of those books home?”
          Guf opens then closes his mouth. “Arden?”
          Arden mumbles painfully as the numbness in his limbs gives way to the feeling of thousands of needles stabbing him everywhere. When the pain subsides, he pulls a scroll from his bag. Glancing over it briefly, he taps one spot and says, “This here will do it.” He straightens his posture and clears his throat as he says, “I wish for three donkeys with appropriate saddle bags.”
          Guf and Drea glance at each other then back at Arden as nothing seems to happen. After a thirty second pause of nothing, some of the words on the scroll glow and raise from the parchment. They twirl around and enlarge, changing shape. They split into three groups which flash from green to orange to brown. When the light show is done, three donkeys stand in the room, complete with saddle bags. Guf and Drea laugh and clap their hands. Guf says, “Neat trick, can you wish for anything?”
          “Well… I could have. That’s my only wish on this scroll.”
          Drea says, “Wait, you could have wished for anything and you wished for donkeys instead of a instant transport home?”
          “Oh, shut up and load the donkeys.”
          The pile of coins behind the altar was what was left of the Jarl’s personal treasure. Amidst the coins is a large goblet, about the size of a punch bowl, an armband shaped like two intertwining serpents and an amulet. Arden casts a spell of detection and says, “Well, they all appear to be magic. We can figure out what they do when we get home.” They pack up all of the coins and the magic items into the bags of the first two donkeys. Arden glances at the titles on the remaining books. They are extremely old, but in amazingly good shape. “Do either of you happen to recognize the language on these books?”
          Drea glances at the titles and mumbles under her breath as she runs a finger along the spines. “It’s in ancient elven, a dialect that is old even by elven standards.”
          Arden says, “Does that mean you can read it?”
          Drea pulls one of the tomes from the shelf and pages through it, “Well, the words are smudged, but I can make out a little. This book seems to be a holy text devoted to some god of undead. I need better light and time to make out much more than that. These other books seem to be history books and those two over there are dated way before the history books any of the other books here. They look like diaries.”
          Guf nods and says, “Well, pack up what you can, and let’s get out of here, the stench is giving me a headache.”
          They take the diaries, the holy book and a few of the chronicles and head out with their donkeys. The trip back is long and cold, but mostly uneventful. The giants move back into their home and promise never to attack the dwarves. The dwarves throw a great feast in their name and Inum offers each of them a weapon from his personal collection. Sharra pays them for their services and stays with the dwarves to continue her research into the Akkari Mountains. Nanakuit leads them back to the Dead Mountains where they leave him behind with some extra food as payment. In the distance, they just barely notice as he transforms into a great polar bear and bounds through the ice back to his tribe. Soon they are back in Coldwater and able to take a well deserved rest.


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