The Companions have ventured far from the origin of their adventure, and though they were beset by a spirit of hunger and dread, they managed to slay the Wendigo and break its grip on the mountains... but not before it took one of their own. With Ivory's blood cooling on the snow, and the storm finally passing, what will happen next?
For those who need to catch up on this tale, the table of contents for the adventure are as follows:
- Chapter 2: Murder and Glass
- Chapter 3: The Sin Pit
- Chapter 4: Tussles in The Tangle
- Chapter 5: The Assault on Thistletop
- Chapter 6: Secrets Behind The Curtain
- Chapter 7: Murders At The Mill
- Chapter 8: Halflings and Ghouls
- Chapter 9: Fox in The Hen House
- Chapter 10: Something Rotten in Magnimar
- Chapter 11: The Crumbling Tower
- Chapter 12: Demonbane
- Chapter 13: Trouble at Turtleback Ferry
- Chapter 14: The Taking of Fort Rannick
- Chapter 15: Water Over The Dam
- Chapter 16: Mad Lovers, And Lost Captains
- Chapter 17: The March of The Giants
- Chapter 18: The Taking of Jorgenfist
- Chapter 19: The Secrets Beneath Sandpoint
- Chapter 20: At The Gates of The Runeforge
- Chapter 21: Storming The Halls of Evocation
- Chapter 22: The Bowels of Necromancy's Tomb
And now, to see what other gods and monsters will stand in their way as they seek the lost gate of Xin-Shalast.
Rebirth in The Mountains
As the Companions gathered round the body of their slain friend Ivory, they felt resolve grow afresh in their hearts. Not only that, but as they retreated into the abandoned mine for shelter from the cold, they found something on her person. A scroll written in a flowing, celestial hand containing a spell that could resurrect one who had only been gone a brief time. Without hesitation Mirelinda unfurled the scroll, and performed the rite as soon as she was certain she understood it.
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| "In case of emergency." Well, this seems like the appropriate time... |
As the complex ritual flowed off Mirelinda's tongue, the wind outside died. It was as if the frozen valley were holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen. A light began to glow, and to swell, filling the small space with a feeling of warmth, and comfort. A feeling that a great door to a realm of enjoyment was being opened, and someone was leaving once more. Then Ivory sat up, coughing and shivering, cold for the first time in months as she worked circulation back into her body.
She thanked the others for their effort, but suggested that in future encounters they exercise a little more caution. Her contingencies were finite, after all.
Guardians of The Gate
Once they'd rested, and felt reasonably certain that the immediate danger has passed, the Companions returned to the trail. In the day or so since the demise of the Wendigo the surrounding countryside had already begun to scrub away the stain of its presence. Tentative birds were returning, and though still cold, the biting wind had ceased. A curious deer walked along a far slope, as if scouting to see where the change in the air came from.
As the Companions crossed into a cleft between two cliffs, they found a small, hidden valley. A place that had the warmth of a hot spring, and where birds and beasts had come to take refuge. There was fear, but also curiosity... as if something else were watching behind their eyes. It was when the Companions reached a pool, and saw a creature splash out of it that they knew who commanded this place... though not what she wanted.
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| There you are... what took you so long? |
The nymph who watched over the grove was curious to see who it was that had broken the grip of the hungering horror on her mountains, and to see what she could do to repay those bold enough to face it down. When she recognized the Companions as those who had helped her cousin, who had gone mad over the loss of her lover near the Black Arrows' fortress, she was doubly pleased to have them as guests.
When she was told they sought Xin-Shalast, though, she grew somewhat grave. Frost giants had been coming through the ancient gates, kidnapping people and dragging them back through. None of them had been seen again after they were taken. Worse, an ancient shadow still lurked in that pass. A wyrm whose name was so old that most texts of the modern age had never recorded it at all.
Thok and Chikara took to the undergrowth soon after, vanishing into the hills to see what they would have to pass to enter Xin-Shalast. What they found was nearly a dozen frost giants milling around, with a small village of recently taken hostages who bore the cast of Kellids. Many of the frost giants were branded with the old runes of power. Not only that, but there were great beasts walled in ice who had massive chunks bitten from them. Chunks that had been taken in a single mouthful by something that had survived the changing of aeons, and which bore scars from the time of the Runelords' ascendancy.
No Chains, No Slavers
No sooner did Thok and Chikara return with word of what they'd seen than the other Companions readied themselves to move out. They could wait, and sneak in on the heels of the giants, but there were innocents being forced into lives of servitude for the most debased of wizards. Their stealth was not worth a cost that high.
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| While even one sits in chains, none are truly free. |
The Companions approached boldly, making no secret of themselves. Upon seeing such little mortals, the frost giants took up their defensive positions atop the mountain, and began flinging stones. Several fell wide of the mark, but one of them struck Thok in the head. Blood ran down his face, and with the blood came a cold fury the slayer rarely displayed. He loosed an arrow that took the rock thrower in the eye, the air around the giant's head freezing to droplets of snow with the impact from the enchanted bow.
Zhakar raised his burning sword with a mighty battle cry, and the light that burned within him went chill, and bleak. It pulsed from him like a shield, protecting those who sheltered within it. And not a moment too soon, for it had barely flicked into existence before the great, white beast fell from behind the clouds, frost burning from its maw and hammering down upon the Companions. Though chilled, their fast reflexes and Zhakar's shield managed to blunt the worst of the monster's breath.
Chaos ensued. Mirelinda took shelter beneath overhanging rocks, attempting to speed the others with one spell, and then to open chasms beneath the frost giants with the next. Chikara tensed and leaped, bounding from one stone to another, roaring as she brought down her ax like thunder upon the giants who stood before her. Zhakar took to the air, hoping to draw the dragon to him. Below, Thok reached into a special pocket on his quiver and slipped out a pair of arrows they had taken from the last dragon who had attacked them. Arrows that had once belonged to a dragon slayer, and which had lost none of their potency.
As the dragon came around for another attack, Thok loosed the arrows. The first hit cleanly, smashing through the wyrm's protections and embedding itself in its chest directly over its heart. As it roared, rearing back its head, Zhakar let forth the beam of fire from the flametongue in his hand, using the arrow's fletching as his place to aim. The fire ate through the frost wyrm's defenses, blackening and charring its flesh. The creature belched ice, flagging as it tried to turn, fire melting its guts. Before it could flee, Thok nocked the other arrow, and let fly. It caught the wyrm in the throat, and it tumbled from the sky, its blood freezing into hail as it dug a new trench in the valley floor.
A Small Change That May Mark an Avalanche
Though several of the frost giants were dead, several others fled into a great cavern. Something howled in its depths, as if there was more than a hole in the earth beyond. One frost giant remained, his ax on the ground, prostrating himself for mercy.
"The tales are true," he rumbled, fear and awe mixing in his voice. "They did not believe, but I knew one day you would come for us."
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| You know you've made it when giants take you seriously. |
Zhakar looked at their captive, and into him. He bore no marks of the Runelords' control, nor did he have the twisted soul of an evil creature. Many captives, once freed, said that he had treated them fairly, if not kindly, and that he had been hurt by his companions for it.
"Would you take service, and embrace a new path?" Zhakar asked.
"You have only to name it," the giant said.
"You are Shepherd, now," Zhakar said, touching the giant upon the brow with his left hand, healing the wounds he had sustained. "Tonight we shall rest here, and upon the morrow you will escort your small brothers and sisters south. There is a vale held by a nymph where they can rest. From there, help them find their way home once more."
"And... and what of you?" the giant now called Shepherd asked.
The Companions looked at the cavern. It seemed to suck at the air and the light, eating at the world around it. The howl was filled with greed and darkness, and it made the skin pebble with discomfort and wariness.
"We will go to Xin-Shalast," Zhakar said. "And if we must, raze it to its foundations."
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