(Alongside: Siege of Caer Konig and Stones of Blood)

Prelude

The plan had worked pretty well for a while at least. Joining with the forces of the Knights of the Black Sword , the Dex's zombie militia fought well, immune to the poison of the fungus zombies and less vulnerable to the darkness - but the battle was very one-sided and eventually it was down to the Necromancers and their single Summoned Undead. The walls had still not been breached, making it impossible to counter-attack or even know the enemy’s capabilities. Magical reconnaissance was impossible due to the antimagic. So how to gain entry?

Since only “trusted” creatures were allowed back within, Dex comes up with a plan to place her Eerie Token on a fungus zombie and allow it to return within. Then peering through its senses - can gain the needed view to use a magical teleportation item owned by the golden-haired lady-paladin Apricity, with the problem that its use would be the last charge of the amulet until stricken by the light of a sunrise.

The teleportation could only bring two - and at the last moments of preparation, a great fiend struck at the camp - drawing away Apricity to engage the threat, substituting Vellynne Harpell instead to join Dex, the two necromancers reappearing within the tower after careful use of the amulet before the eerie token expired.

Vellynne called out magics that eliminated the token’s bearer and surrounding fungal zombies, rendering the area “safe.” What follows are the recollections of Dex, as Vellynne Harpell remains missing.

Necromancer, Necromancer, Ugly Titan, Shadow Dancer

Gathering our wits and beginning to explore, whispered taunts came to our ears, chilling even the spines of we who have mastered death’s door.

“The dawnchild fell for the distraction and now the hags’ price will be paid with simple effort.”
“The changeling brings with him a bauble filled with one that believes itself redeemed, we know where it belongs.”
“Do you think he would have been so clever without our help?”
“Do you think he would have had the courage if he knew his maker-hags awaited within?”
“The witch’s crystal eye shall serve us better than she.”
“Her life-thread is near its end, can you see?”
“It has a strange quality to it, as do all the mortals who seek the mastery over death - never theirs to have.”

At this we paused, exchanging glances in the dimly-lit passage, pressing along further to better understand what we had gotten into.

“Do you think they can hear us?”
“Only if the bauble-spirit attuned the chardalyn frequencies, but none have dwelt in such caverns of the north.”
“What of the Terraseer’s vein of the crystal-ore to the south?”

(The whispering voices then take a pause - perhaps for thought, I sensed a warm “throb” from the Mormesk orb…)

“It is no matter, they will not last long evenso.”
“Do you think the dwarf-king can lure the frostmaiden to the tower?”
“She’s very temperamental, being a Fury Goddess and all, ... and not very bright”
“Hahaha - not bright, clever with puns are you, dull is she all the same, yes”
“He has that gauntlet if he can get her in reach, then the enchantments will carry her Spark to Lord Asmodeus”
“If she is as weakened as HE believes, that is - her worship is almost gone, but she is still a divine fey noble”
“Surely there would be no doubt but for the fools in that mortal cult wearing their chardalyn collars”
“We know well the mortals fears and greed are easily used against their better judgment”
“Yes, but can you imagine if they knew - if they could even comprehend - what speaks to them through their amulets?”
“I do not think it would make a difference - they have chosen their path freely, now they serve that patron”
“And if set free, they will be the first to confront the consequences”
“Yes, but even we cannot guess what such an entity may do or desire - perhaps merely to depart?”

(We approached an area bearing light, and then sensed air moving toward us...)

“Almost time to deliver our package. What should we do with the old woman ?”
“Let’s put them together and leave it up to the Flesh Hag. Is that the one using ‘Vicky Mousecracker’?”
“No, the Blood Hag wears the name Vicky, the one at the goblin cairn-fort. The Flesh Hag wears ‘Karen Veinwhistler’”
“Why do hags take such strange names? At least the Bone Hag makes sense to me - ‘Olga Grimcradle’”
“I believe it relates to necessary folklore, for they are creatures of ritual. Why does Olga make sense to you?”
“Not the Olga part, but the Grimcradle - for what she has done with so many infants over the centuries.”
“I must admit I don’t quite know what happens to the birth-child, is it not altered as changeling? Like this one?”
“Tis time. They have reached the end of their little walk…”

Ugly Titan

Both of us then collapsed into blackness.

When I regained consciousness, we were locked within a cage formed of a metal Vellynne called "nullsteel" - its properties deliver a dull persistent pain to those who work the weave of magic, making concentration impossible and even the slightest beginnings of magic are absorbed, cancelling the effect. Nothing had been taken from us, so confident were our captors.

The cage is held by a titanic creature with a single eye and three horns.

The side horns are flattened and glow with runes where cut. The head is positioned between two dimensional gateways - one glows yellow, the other blue. Every so often, the titan turns its head slightly, allowing creatures to pour through the gateway - crawling, hopping, slithering, skittering little nightmares all glowing with the corresponding color - blue to the titan’s right, yellow to the titan’s left.

The critters tumble down into vats on platform mounted on the creature's shoulders - like a plow's yoke on an ox. Gears and blades within mince the bodies into a pulp, which then drains from the platform’s bottom through tubes that seem spun of spidersilk, and glow with the blue or yellow color.

This pulp is carefully emptied into carts on mineshaft tracks by hapless goblins enslaved by the Duergar and their gnoll and white-furry quaggoth minions. The carts disappear back into the walls, and finally re-emerge on the left and right sides of the titan’s feet at the bottom of the great cavern below. Here, the carts contain bladders glowing with the pulp.

A summoning circle glowed with a troublingly deep red on the floor of this cavern, where two hulking Pit Fiends watchfully directed goblins assisting a Drow Spore-Druid in placing these bladders within the bodies of fungal zombies, (one of each coloration) into where their lungs had once drawn breath. The zombies enter on carts from a shaft at the titan's rear, then rolling away to exit to its front. Surely an elevator then raised these newly-crafted weapon-soldiers back to the surface.

At one point, a goblin caused a bladder to break in the zombie-insertion process - the Drow became so angry, he stepped back and threw the other bladder upon the goblin, causing it to become engulfed in violent green flame. Its corpse was left there to remind others to be more careful. It would appear combining the blue goo with the yellow goo causes an intense reaction - and these walking bombs are being sent against the tower’s attackers.

The repeated cycle of gate-drop grind-liquid cart-in cart-out load-lungs again and again numbed the mind with its forced incessant obedience to process. A dimension-spanning machine formed of creatures, magics, and mechanics truly embodied the evil oppression and vile designs of the Nine Hells. One moment so identical to the prior, it became difficult to determine the passage of time. The voices heard on approach almost certainly were those of the fiendish overseers below.

Shadow Dancer

It is difficult to know when our rescue began. Even with my keen senses in the darkness, he acted with such stealth and mobility it seemed to all happen at once, though it must have taken some time to set into motion. We first noticed the satisfying click of the lock opening and the slight groan of the cage door, as the dark figure then stepped into shadow and vanished, leaving a small hovering device then sparkled slightly.

At the cage's edge, door held ready to swing open, the sparkly device drew our attention as it flew across and slightly downward to a landing at the titan's left side. There, this shadow dancer, emerged from shadow once more, expertly firing a crossbow bolt past the door and lodging into the giant's arm. The bolt carried a spidersilk rope. He tied the loose end to a minecart track and leaving no pause for missed opportunity, I hooked my sickle-staff over the rope and slid (admittedly inelegantly) to the landing. Vellynne followed, holding to a thick leather belt. Already our rescuer had vanished from this spot, now positioned across and above, to take one final action before we never saw him again.

The house-sized eye's concentric circles made for an impossibly exact copy of an archery target, and the shadow dancer fired a bolt aglow with energy into its very center.  The titan's deafening roar in response forced us to shelter deeper within the side-passage, crucially sparing us from the wave of heat that followed.  Brilliant green light poured into the passage, as the spilled shoulder-vats and creatures from open gateways spilled into the chasm, mixing into the green flames of this fiendish alchemy. A blast of air howled down the passage to fill the vacuum left by what the explosion had consumed, throwing us to the floor and dragging us once more to the ledge.

Sacrifice

Gathering our wits, the enormity of the situation loomed all around. The baked flesh of the titan lay hunched against the opposite wall, eliminating any control over the endless entry of the crawling, hopping, slithering, skittering nightmare-things from the blue and yellow gateways. Only a few dozen remained on the floor, broken and singularly focused on attacking their opposite - resulting in fresh blasts of fire from their mixed ichor.

The summoning circle carved with infernal runes dimmed slowly - like the cooling of coals in a fire, the fiendish task-masters had cut their losses and fled before the impending doom.  All remaining creatures not blue or green were now blackened forms, even the minecart tracks had melted in places.

A seemingly limitless number of blue and yellow creatures poured from the gateways, now onto their separated landings and then rushed - howling, gibbering, cackling, and screeching  into the openings of the winding minecart shafts. A tremor shook all to the ground momentarily, at which point Vellynne muttered and her face became framed in a conviction to act. My ears were still ringing, all I remember hearing were varied curses, "volcano" and "Kelvin’s Cairn". 

The one-eyed master necromancer set her mind to the task, resigned to taking action or all lost all the same. She called upon one great final power from within the Eye of the Grey Realms, which caused her shape to begin to grow and fade at the same time, as if spreading her substance thin. Her last words to me in her voice were:

We tend the passage between this world and death, dearie.
Off I go to explore this geography in greater detail.
Continue to collect memories as your minions.

She grew to the size of and then positioned her form to overlap with the titan’s body, at which point it began to animate.  Its voice boomed, "Esss-kape! Now!" And I leapt onto my staff with aid of a well-timed Misty Step - to evade the onslaught of those-that crawl, hop, slither, and skitter. Whooshing through the caves, up and up, I found the tower split and shaken by the work of the attackers, and now stand before you, a survivor of nightmares.  I cannot say what fate befell Vellynne Harpell, but I must thank her and the one who moved with shadow for my return.

We have much still to learn, much still to discover, and much still to unravel in this Everlasting Winter.

(Next: Dex and the Sewer-side Squad are tasked on a side-trip to Old White Death)

With the needed lore and ingredients to open the Reghed Glacier, the party descends through ice caves in search of Ythryn, lost floating enclave-city of The Netheril.

The goal is to find in this ancient source of tremendous power to counter the Everlasting Winter.

Strongly-supportive of the Free Towns, Termalaine is situated in a picturesque location - perhaps the most scenic in all of the Icewind Dale. It looks across the lake, just nestled against tall pines, with the looming extinct volcano of Kelvin's Cairn casting a shadow (in seasons outside winter anyway) to the south.  Reached by the road around Maer Dualdon from Targos, the road continues north to Lonelywood. 

Founded by Calishites with an eye for beauty, the buildings incorporate carvings of wizards, tigers, smiling djinn, and creatures of the far-off land. Unfortunately, the town experiences some of the most extreme winds and cold, whipped off the lake from the west.

Alongside fishers, shipbuilders and scrimshanders, a number of miners continue to work a cavern complex in a nearby hill. Whenever nasty Underdark creatures disturb this, the town seals off the mine and waits for adventurers to be hired to clean things up. Other past threats have been dealt with by the town's enduring good relations with Clan Battlehammer of the valley dwarves, to which the town is ever-supportive and remains indebted for repeated aid in battle.

Mine-cleansing was performed by a wildly popular and charismatic group of gnomes who called their troupe The Gnoobz. These had already made a name for themselves in Lonelywood, and after the mine-clearing and a few other key accomplishments for the locals, the group vanished after being hired by the wizard Dzaan, later publicly burned at the stake on the mob insistence, pushed by Frost Druids of the Children of Auril.

Readiness for the attack by the Sunblight Dragon came through warning and clear-thinking of the druid Agaric.  During the Desolation, the townsfolk hiding in the Gem Mine were threatened by an attack from the Underdark, led by Duergar. The arriving Sewer-side Squad were able to push back the attack and force it to retreat, allowing the townfolk to remain protected from the dragon. This group is now heralded in this town as heroes, and have free room and board for life at the Eastside Inn.

About

• Leader: Speaker for the Maer and Mine, Oarus Masthew (Half-Orc) - close/contentious election but support cemented after surviving the Desolation,
  he is the adopted son of Shaelen Masthew (previous speaker who still lives there)
• Population: 600 (nearly all survived the Desolation by hiding in the Gem Mine)
• Industry: lumber and mining (gemstones and precious metals, ties with valley dwarves)
  The forests were heavily taxed in rebuilding after the Desolation.
• Northway: New road constructed after the Desolation, direct from Bryn Shander, bypassing now-contentious Targos.
• Construction: docks and buildings on forest edge
• Founders: Calishites (far to south, below Tethyr - Easthaven's founders) / (Accent: Hindi)
• Other notable residents:
  • Vedda Starsprit, a frail 30-year-old seer with severe exotropia (opposite of crossed eyes) who does fortune-telling and advises leaders in the town, close friends with Danae Xotal of Lonelywood
  • Marta Peskryk, innskeeper at The Eastside
  • Vernon Braig, owner of the dockside tavern The Blue Clam
  • Agaric, a Druid, has taken up interest in the locale, along with a group of scholars-of-weather - often protecting or at least warning of the ill effects of Auril and her minions and weather-tantrums

Map

(see also: wiki)

Sudon Corvus

A Shadar-kai from the Shadowfell on a quest for the Raven Queen. Serving her is his sole focus - he has no loyalties to family. As he has been tasked with joining the Sewer-side Squad and the Bregan D'aerthe, he is dedicated to their success and loyal to his team-mates as bretheren.

The most commonly shared trait of those called or self-identified as the Children of Auril is devotion to the Goddess of Winter, Auril, also called the Frostmaiden.  The term is exclusively used in the Frozenfar of Faerûn.  The primary sub-groups are:

1. The Frost Druids: a circle of druids dedicated to cold, ice, snow, winter, and generally darkness as far as that opposes the sun's meltiness. The Archdruid of the circle is called the White Inquisitor, and she holds even more merciless cold wrath than the other fanatics.  She took this position after Gildreban the Timeless departed from the Frozenfar (rumored to have joined Auril in her court.) Others include the sisters Ravisin and Vurnis of Lonelywood, Faash (friend of the giant Garagai), Siovakis (Reghed Bear Tribesman said to have fallen into madness), Augvald the Storm-summoner of Kelvin's Cairn, Drofn (Auril's messenger to the Goliath peoples), and Bitra, who menaces the Redwaters region.
2. Shrine-keepers of Auril: In contrast to the wild-ranging druids, there are also clerics/priests of the Frostmaiden who maintain more town-oriented shrines and places for sacrifice. None have risen to the prominence of the druids, however.
3. Fanatics of Auril: encouraged by the Frost Druids and the Shrine-keepers, a cult has emerged over the past years without the Spring melt, composed of those driven mad, lost in depression or desperation, and simply some eager to follow what is clearly a divine presence on the lands - for so many other gods remain aloof from the lives of mortals.

Prior to the Desolation at the end of Tarsakh in 1492 DR, the presence of the Children of Auril and their hand on political power were felt most strongly in Good Mead, Targos, and Dougan's Hole - where humanoid sacrifices to Auril were performed regularly for well over a year.  Lonelywood's proximity to the deep forest area has also caused it to receive added attention, though perhaps unwanted. Sufficient fear and respect for the Frostmaiden prevailed throughout the towns to ensure compliant sacrifices and influence in the night to night goings-on.

After the Desolation

When the Chardalyn dragon of Xardorok Sunblight burned nearly all the Ten Towns to the ground, all this changed. There may not be any direct connection of these events, but such a consequence was realized all the same. (See Ten little Towns).

1. The regularity of the nightly auroras associated with Auril ended the same night as the attacks - adding to superstitious speculation linking the events, And while the colored lights across the skies were a reminder of the wintery grasp, they were still a prominent awe-inspiring phenomenon of beauty.
2. Bitter blizzards descended during the attacks on the northern towns: Termalaine, Lonelywood, Bremen, Targos and Bryn Shander - and in all cases the Frost Druids were openly calling forth the weather and unrepentent. These blizzards then persisted for a week, burying the roads and leading to most of the casualties by way of exposure and starvation.  Many so dying became Coldlight Walker spirits, further creating fear and death in the aftermath.
3. Swift retribution and hatred arose in the people of the Ten Towns against the Children of Auril - and even the creatures associated with her such as Yeti and Ice Trolls. At the forefront of this was Vaelish Gant the Brown, the new Town Protector of Bremen, who nurtured a personal vendetta against the White Inquisitor and several Frost Druids for bad treatment in the past, including the incarceration in and pursuit after escaping Revel's End. Targos and its new-influencers the Zhentarim also pressed for this harsh treatment of Auril's devout.
4. The Knights of the Black Sword declared their focus to free those in the grip of this tomb of ice, launching expeditions into pursuit of arcane lore and ancient sites.
5. The White Inquisitor herself withdrew from what was once prominent imposition of her indignant demands on the Ten Towners, making only occasional and brief appearances, but often well-timed to spare the followers from deadly wrath. Her whereabouts remain unknown, her power remains as intimidating as anything in the dale.
6. Frost Giants, ever-respectful of the Frostmaiden, though perhaps even predating her rise, began to be seen to gather in larger war-ready groups, where previously only seen in lone or paired hunting parties.