Glacier Hex Encounter Table

Deep Ice, Polar Wastes, Ice Caps of Reisa Use north of the taiga, permanent glaciers, ice shelves, and polar deserts

Roll: 1d100 Expected HD Range: 2–10+ HD Sources: GFN, OSE, Reisa Campaign

Visibility: Extreme on clear days; zero in storms Sound: Wind strips all direction from sound Retreat: Often impossible — distance and weather foreclose options Themes: Preservation, the failure of past expeditions, cold as patient killer, things that should not still be here

Encounter Notes

21–22 — Remorhaz

The ice ahead shows a long irregular channel of faint melt — the trail of something that passed through recently, warm enough to partially liquefy the glacier surface. The channel is perhaps 10 feet wide and 200 feet long, ending where the creature went back under.

The Remorhaz itself is beneath the surface. It detected the party's heat from below and is tracking them. It erupts without warning — a save vs. Surprise for the whole party, difficulty escalated by the fact that the ice gave no sound before it broke. Use OSE Remorhaz statistics. After combat, the body radiates significant heat for 1d4 turns — enough to warm the party, melt snow for water, and draw every predator within detection range.

27–28 — Glacier Cave

A dark opening in the ice face, large enough to enter. Inside: the cave goes back further than a torch illuminates, freezing meltwater has pooled in depressions on the floor, and something has been here recently — tracks, debris, a smell.

The cave is structurally unstable. Any significant noise (combat, loud voices, a spell with an audible component) requires a save vs. Paralysis from everyone inside or the ceiling shifts and drops ice: 1d6 damage, possible separation from the exit. The party has roughly one turn before the ceiling becomes dangerous after entering.

Roll 1d6 for occupant: 1–2 empty; 3 polar bear sheltering; 4 ice ghouls feeding on something; 5 a surviving member of the expedition from result 47–48 (hypothermic, barely conscious); 6 the Remorhaz from 21–22 is denning here.

35–36 — Geothermal Vent

A circle of open water in the ice, steaming, approximately 20 feet across. The water is genuinely warm — not hot, but survivable and remarkable at this altitude and latitude. The air above it is fog.

The vent is a genuine resource: warm water, shelter from wind if the party rigs something over it, a place to thaw frozen gear. It is also a known landmark to anything that lives on this glacier. On a 3-in-6 chance something is already here when the party arrives: roll 1d4 — 1 polar bear, 2 frost salamanders (1d3), 3 yeti (1), 4 the expedition survivor from 47–48.

If the party camps here, the 1-in-6 wandering encounter chance increases to 2-in-6 for the duration of the stay. Warmth on a glacier is a beacon.

39–40 — Bardo Wanderer

A figure moving across the ice ahead — upright, deliberate, dressed for conditions that existed perhaps decades ago. They are moving with purpose, following a route. They do not respond to shouts. When the party closes distance, they can see that the figure leaves no tracks.

This is a ghost that has not yet understood it is dead. It died during a crossing — expedition, pilgrimage, migration — and is still completing that journey, 49 days or 49 years later. It is not hostile. It is not aware of the party as distinct presences. It will walk through them if they stand in its path, which causes a cold shock but no mechanical damage unless the referee escalates (a failed save vs. Spells causes 1d4 cold damage and a sense of profound disorientation lasting one turn).

The wanderer is following its last known route. If the party follows it for one full turn — traveling in its direction without interfering — they gain accurate route knowledge to its destination, wherever it was going when it died. This may lead to the frozen battlefield (55–56), the abandoned camp (47–48), or a location not yet on any map.

A Cleric who speaks the bardo acknowledgment — stating clearly that the person has died, naming what they can see of them, releasing them with a few words — causes the wanderer to stop, turn, and look at the Cleric for a long moment before fading. This is the correct resolution. It earns the Cleric 1d6 × 100 XP and the party a sense that something slightly wrong has been made slightly right.

47–48 — Abandoned Expedition Camp

A tent, still standing. The design is not recent — the materials are a generation old at least. The stakes are driven properly, the ropes are correctly tensioned. Whoever set this up knew what they were doing.

Inside: sleeping rolls, a camp stove with fuel remaining, food in sealed containers (still edible, frozen solid), personal effects for 1d4+2 people, and a journal or field notes. The journal is legible with careful handling. It describes an expedition with a specific goal — a relic site, a ley survey, a crossing attempt — and ends mid-entry. The last entry is calm and practical: a weather observation, a navigation note, a plan for the morning. There is no indication of distress.

The crew is not here. There is no blood, no signs of violence, no tracks leading away. Whatever happened, happened after they went to sleep or happened too quickly to leave a record.

The journal contains: accurate route information for 1d6 hexes in the direction they were traveling, a partial description of what they were looking for, and at least one detail that connects to something the party is currently investigating or will investigate.

61–62 — Preserved NPC in Ice

Visible through the ice surface: a figure, perfectly preserved, perhaps 10 feet down. They are in a posture of movement — walking, reaching, not lying down. Whatever happened, happened instantly.

Thawing them requires significant heat over 1d4 hours. Once thawed: roll 1d6. On 1–3, they remain dead, but their gear is intact and may include something significant (a sealed torma, a document, a relic fragment, a key). On 4–5, they animate as a wight or ghoul within 1d4 turns — the sudden restoration of warmth disturbs whatever has been maintaining the preservation. On a 6, they are alive, severely hypothermic, and have been in the ice for a period of time they cannot account for. They remember exactly what they were doing when they went in, which was not here and was not now.

The living survivor case is the most interesting. They are a practitioner — Rootstone Keeper, Wandering Tantrika, or similar — who was preserved by their own practice rather than by simple freezing, and who has been in a state resembling the bardo rather than death. What they know is accurate but potentially very old.

63–64 — Frozen Ship or Vehicle

Locked in the ice at an angle, partially emerged, partially buried. It could be a river barge carried north by flood years ago, an expedition vehicle, a sled of unusual size, or something that has no obvious explanation for how it reached this latitude.

The hull or frame is intact. Ice has forced its way into every opening. Inside (accessible by breaking through ice-sealed doors or hatches): cargo that may be preserved, personal effects of the crew, navigation or cargo records, and 1d4 crew members frozen in place. Apply the rules from 61–62 for each frozen crew member — the referee rolls separately for each.

The cargo is the reason to engage with this encounter. Roll 1d6 for cargo type: 1 mundane trade goods (valuable in the right market, heavy); 2 religious materials from a tradition the party recognizes; 3 weapons or armor of unusual quality; 4 sealed containers marked with Church administrative symbols — internal records or materials in transit; 5 something alive in a sealed cold-box, dormant; 6 nothing — the cargo hold is empty and has been deliberately emptied, which is its own puzzle.

69–70 — Multiple Bardo Wanderers

Not one figure but several — 1d4+1 — moving in loose formation across the ice. The same rules as 39–40 apply to each individually, but collectively they present a more disorienting encounter. The party is essentially passing through a ghost expedition mid-journey.

The wanderers interact with each other normally: they appear to speak (no sound), gesture, wait for each other, point. They were traveling together and are still doing so. Following them for a full turn reveals their destination. Making contact with all of them — the Cleric's bardo acknowledgment applied to each in turn — is a significant act. If all are successfully released, something in this hex shifts: a ward that was degrading stabilizes, a dangerous area becomes slightly safer, or a specific hazard listed elsewhere on this table simply does not occur for the rest of the session.

The referee should decide before the session whether this group is connected to the frozen ship (63–64), the abandoned camp (47–48), or the frozen battlefield (55–56). They are the crew, the expedition, or the soldiers. Connecting the dots across multiple encounters is the reward.

83–84 — White Dragon

The white dragon has been aware of the party since result 43–44 (taiga dragon hunting) if that result was already rolled — or since the party entered this hex if it wasn't. It has been watching. It is not hungry. It is curious and territorial, which is more dangerous than hunger because it is less predictable.

Use OSE White Dragon statistics scaled to the referee's needs. The key difference from a standard dragon encounter: it does not attack immediately. It circles above, visible if the party looks up, for 1d6 turns before descending. During this time it is assessing whether the party is a threat, prey, or something else. A party that stops and waits — does not run, does not prepare weapons openly, simply waits — gives the dragon something to evaluate at its own pace.

What breaks the standoff: any aggressive action (weapons drawn, spells cast, movement toward cover), any attempt to flee (it will immediately pursue), or the dragon deciding on its own timeline that the party is either prey or boring. A party that correctly reads the dragon's behavior and responds with stillness may end the encounter with no combat. This is not guaranteed. It is possible.

The dragon's lair is within two hexes. It contains the accumulated debris of a long life of predation, including items from every entry on this table that resulted in death.

Design Notes

Undead are common because glaciers preserve failure, not erase it. Every expedition that ended badly is still here in some form.

Many undead are passive until disturbed. The frozen procession, the bardo wanderers, and the preserved NPC are all potentially non-combat if the party reads the situation correctly.

The geothermal vent and glacier cave create decision points around resources: warmth and shelter are available but cost in risk. The party must decide whether the short-term benefit is worth the long-term danger.

Connecting encounters across a session — the wanderers leading to the battlefield, the dragon having watched since the griffon result, the camp journal pointing to the preserved NPC — rewards a referee who treats the table as a coherent world rather than a list of isolated events.

High-end results should change the map. Result 85 is not a larger version of the other results. It is a statement about the state of the world.