Category Archives: Journal Entries

Journal entries for the Jade Regent campaign

March 4th, 2017

Character: Olmas

Annals of the Order of the Dragon

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Starday, 22 Kuthona

We had decided to do the almist-customary-now speak with dead with Katiana, but somewhat to my surprise, this time Qatana wanted the whole body. I thought we only needed the head?  Certainly we’ve done that in the past, but she said something about “it works better if you have more of the body”.

Well it also works better if you don’t kill the body (you’re not limited to four questions!), but I’m not really recommending that as a strategy. I may be half elven with a magical heritage, but sometimes I just don’t understand how these spellcasters work.  So, okay, we’ve got a whole-but-grievously-wounded body for tomorrow. We’ll see if this improves the quality of the answers.

Sunday, 23 Kuthona

Before we set off in the morning, Qatana spoke with Katiana. I was not impressed with the quality of the answers.  I paraphrase here:

Q: Who were the others you were working with?
A: Fell creatures of the frozen north who are allied
against you and your cause!  they may yet thwart you!

Q: What was the purpose of the storms?
A: To further the glory of the lord Sithud! You will feel
his wrath and die at his hands and he will serve death to
you on a putrid platter with a side of fell broccoli.

Q: Who else is assisting Sithud?
A: My underlings, the fell creatures of the frozen north
who are allied against you and your cause!  They will
defeat you and you will join their ranks as the frozen
ice becomes your new home and … and you bow down before
the great Lord Sithud as he, ah, as he serves you death on
a fell platter of MASTER construction with a side of, uh,
moldy yams. Frozen moldy yams. Of death. But which may
once have been candied, but their being of death it
really matters not. Ha ha-ha-ha!

Q: Are you working with the oni of the 5 storms?
A: I serve the great Lord Sithud whose legions of foul
creatures, a subset of which also serve me although
of course his orders would supercede mine should he
give them any, which he doesn’t, so it’s irrelevant,
the legions of which shall oppose you at every step,
or rather every third step because fell creatures
lose a step or two when they originally fell, but
not so much that they fall very far behind, for they
are tireless, and, uh, right.  Who will oppose you – I
mean do ALREADY oppose you with great … opposition
and will defeat you in battle – no, it will be no battle
at all when you fall before the frozen but plodding
armies of … wait, curse Common, I don’t think that’s
the right word .. frozen but STEADFAST, that’s it,
frozen but STEADFAST armies of Sithud that shall –

and at that point the head stopped talking and Qatana informed us the spell had run its course.

Or at least, that’s what I remember. I didn’t have a pen ready so I may not have captured it word for word.  Overall, having the whole body there seemed to mean she spoke more but said less.  Not sure if it  was really worth the trouble. I guess we did learn we may want to be more vigilant.

Ulf told us that our best route out of the ice now would be by way of Dead Man’s Dome, and being a fantastic shill I immediately said, “Dead Man’s Dome?  Why is it called that?” and Ulf managed to look ominous, sinister, and mysterious even though it was the brightest darkness of the day, and said, “aye, there’s a story there, but it needs wait for dinner” because Ulf realized, of course, that the dancing shadows and captive audience provided by the evening fire would be needed to properly tell this story.

In the evening, as our relatively small fire shone brightly across the miles of flat unbroken ice, he told us a tale of a tower that, over two hundred years ago, was used to guarantee safe passage between the ice and the lands beyond.  The area was known to be home to not just fell beasts but disagreeable giants and others.  The last caravan of the season was exiting the ice later than normal, and their scouts reported having seen signs that they were indeed being followed. They reached the guard tower just as an army of undead and giants attacked them.

At this point I realized uncomfortably that this almost perfectly described OUR caravan’s current situation.

The tower was not without armaments, and the caravan had at least reached its elevated base safely.  Still, the attack was ferocious and it didn’t take too long to realize that the tower (and the caravan it was guarding) was destined to fall.

One of the remaining soldiers from the tower came forward and offered a plan.  Since the attacking army may not know how close the tower was to falling, it might be possibly to make the army think there was a massive counterattack preparing.  Distracted by the apparent counterattack, the caravan may yet escape even as the tower fell.  It was, of course, a suicide mission for the lone soldier but it was all they had.

And it was successful.  What was left of the attacking army – for they too had truly taken significant losses – moved up to defeat the apparent counterattack.  The soldier used what little magic and weapons he had left to appear to be a small platoon of troops, when in fact it was just him.  As the attackers angrily surged forward, he played his last card, collapsing the tower upon the attackers and guaranteeing there were too few left to chase the escaping caravan.

Nobody ever learned of the soldier’s name, but the tale of his bravery moved rapidly from campfire to town to garrison, and the remaining wreckage became known as Dead Man’s Dome.  And legend has it (of course) that he guards the pass still, against any evil that would dare attack a passing caravan.

When we get there, we’ll see how much of what remains supports the story. We anticipate it taking over a week to get there.  But Ulf certainly did tell it well.

Fireday, 28 Kuthona

Things had been pretty uneventful until tonight, when a guard reported a woman out on the ice, approaching our position.Ivan, Qatana, and I cautiously approached the figure.  Ivan had cast a spell called ‘deathwatch’ which apparently allows him to discern at a glance if a being is truly alive or not.  A maiden in a red silk robe – which looked dreadfully out of place here on the ice – hesitantly drew nigh and announced, “My name is Uki.”

Sparna quietly moved to the perimeter.

When we bade her to come nearer, she said she was afraid and actually backed up.  We looked at each other, and Ivan shook his head. There was no life here.  We called for the rest of the party, and at that moment the wind inexplicably increased and started becoming an issue.  Hailstones fell from what had previously been a clear sky, and they definitely hurt.  I instructed Suishen to turn up the flame, and Ivan provided a wall of flame behind Uki to encourage her to move closer.

She tried to use her waif looks to captivate us, but was unsuccessful. We then attacked, and although she was much tougher than she looked, she was soon not a threat at all.

Moonday, 31 Kuthona

One of our wagon drivers has been acting strangely, but today it turned to the irrational.  He became afraid of the horses and refused to drive.  We suspect this might be a case of the “Howl of the North” that Ulf had warned us about.  So far we have been fortunate to avoid it, but we had acquired resources before we left town that would allow us to mitigate it.  Qatana was able to use some diamond dust to create a spell of Restoration to help with the healing.  While that did make him better, he is still by no means healed so we have shifted some of our roles around to cover for the missing driver, who now is under the personal care of Koya.

Toilday, 1 Abadius

Owing to Katiana’s clear premonitions, we suspected this day would come. Today, we noticed in the distance, figures following us.  I quickly rode back a bit with Kasimir and observed, yes, I saw at least 10 skeletons plodding, er STEADFASTLY plodding towards us.  They were not really overtaking us, but the problem is that they were tireless, but we’d have to stop and rest at some point. They would eventually catch up to us.  Ivan scouted ahead to make sure we weren’t being herded into a trap, and as far as he could tell, no, we weren’t.

Ulf pointed out we could probably make Dead Man’s Dome and in a quick meeting, we concluded it probably would provide the most defensible place.  It was apparent that more undead were joining the skeletons and it was anybody’s guess how many we’d ultimately be facing.  High ground seemed like a good idea.

By evening, we’d reached Dead Man’s Dome, and we quickly sized it up. We probably had 20-30 min before the horde caught up to us, and in consultation with Ulf we came up with a plan to funnel the undead towards us using walls of fire.  Once they were in the kill zone, some area effect spells would hammer them before the fighters moved in to clean up.  I asked Suishen for protection from cold, and we moved up to execute.

As the greatly reduced undead advanced towards us, among our fighters rose a ghostly figure from the ground. The Dead Man had risen to defend the caravan, just as legend foretold!  His great sword sliced a wight in half as he gave a half nod to the fighters around him.

Ivan kept a steady stream of arrows heading out to the advancing undead.  We destroyed the rest of the undead in short order, with little damage to us.    And that’s when we saw the second wave advancing.

Since we again had a few minutes to prepare, we quickly brought Ulf up to see the Dead Man.  Ulf never expected to see the subject of one of his stories before him 🙂 and the look on his face was worth the effort.  For his part, the Dead Man again politely nodded at Ulf much as he had to us.

The walls of fire had provided not only a funnelling effect, but also light.  But they would be expired for the second wave.  We adjusted our strategy a bit.  Ivan shot some lit arrows out behind the second wave, and that provided some backlight to help see them advancing.  A few tried to move off to flank us, but the nice thing about undead is that they don’t think very hard. they pretty much move directly to the target.  Our basic area effect spells still took out a goodly number.  The Dead Man again proved indispensible. In the end, we easily killed over 30 undead between the two waves, and we did save the caravan.

Instead of disappearing or sinking back into the ground, the Dead Man walked slowly up the hill. He still looked very distinguished in his dated full plate.  But then he reached a pile of rubble, and slowly pointed at it.  I thought we might find his remains there, but what we found was more valuable than that.

[431] terra cotta statue
-once per day one can reroll a d20 attack roll w/+1
– once per day one can call upon a spiritual ally for 7 rds

We believe we have exhausted the undead army, but we will nevertheless proceed with caution for the next few days.

Character: Qatana

Qatana’s Journal for Kuthona 22, 4712 – Abadius 1, 4713

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Starday, Kuthona 22, 4712 evening
Caravan, near the Storm Tower

We returned to the caravan and recounted our adventures with Katiyana and the other creatures both alive and undead. Ulf replied with his usual grunt (of approval? disbelief? relief?), but Ameiko and Koya wanted to see the infamous Tower of the Storms for themselves.

I looked over questioningly at Shalelu, who gave a small discrete smile and a wink in reply. I guess it makes sense that if you’re going to travel halfway around the world through the most inhospitable places it makes sense to see the sites while you’re there.

I did notice that Shalelu followed along with the others, and so I remained in camp with Sparna and worked on dinner. When they returned they were lugging the bodies of the two remorhazes we had slain and having an animated discussion about using their scales as personal talisman.

I held up a knife I was using and offered to scale the beasts and was met with blank stares. Ameiko said, “Maybe after dinner.” Well, yeah. I didn’t mean for them to fling the corpses on the cutting board right then. Food preparation is important, and I keep a clean kitchen.

Sunday, Kuthona 23, 4712 evening
Caravan

Before leaving in the morning I used Speak With Undead to question Katiyana’s body. The night before I had come up with things to ask that I hoped would be revealing, but as the others gathered round and the interrogation began it was clear that even in death Katiyana would be difficult. She served her frozen master (Sithud) and she was confident in his eventual return. She also took the opportunity to hint at her legion of undead that wandered the frozen wastes, and to gloat over their eventual victory over us.

If nothing else she put us on alert for more frozen undead.

With the Storm Tower disabled we had mild (relatively speaking) conditions and made good progress. Ulf is leading us back to the main caravan route over the high ice. We’re headed toward a place auspiciously called “Dead Man’s Dome.” When pressed for details Ulf took a large swig of spiced rum and leaned into the fire, the dancing flames highlighting random parts of his grizzled face and giving him an almost otherworldly appearance. We were used to it by now: this was Ulf’s favorite story telling effect.

“Generations ago there stood a stone tower atop a hill used to guard the caravan route. The last caravan of the season was drawing nigh, but instead of tower guards it was met by a horde of giants and fell beasts. As they prepared to circle the wagons for a desperate defense, one of the caravan’s soldiers came forward with a cunning plan.”

”I’ll lead some of the men around our attacker’s flanks and draw them toward the tower while the rest of you flee with all possible speed. We’ll try and meet down the road later on.”

“Seeing that this was their only hope this plan was swiftly enacted. The drivers moved the wagons as if circling them for battle while the guards lept off and raced around to the flanks of the giants. As expected the giants turned to to attack and were led by the retreating men up the hill toward the tower. This gave the the caravan the break they needed and the wagons quickly began to roll away.”

“Seeing this the soldier said to his men, ”Swiftly head around back to the road. I will keep the giants busy.” And as the guards crept away the soldier ran into the tower, shouting out orders to troops he did not have. The giants, not being the brightest of creatures, were completely fooled and followed him in.”

“Some say that once the giants entered the tower it collapsed, killing them all. Others say the giants were so enraged by the soldier’s taunts that they simply forgot about the fleeing caravan. Either way the wagons escaped to safety, leaving the soldier behind.”

“No one remembers his name, but the hill has been called Dead Man’s Dome ever since. Legend has it that his spirit remains and guards the way for passing caravans.”

Ulf ended his tale as the fire shot embers high into the black sky. We remained respectfully quiet, although Pookie did comment, “I’m going to remember that story to retell later.” No doubt she would, but I suspected the next time I heard it it would be a tale of ferocious rats against a wandering band of brave mice.

Fireday, Kuthona 28, 4712 night
Caravan

We spent five days of blissfully dull travel on the ice, but that streak came to an end tonight. As we were setting up camp one of the guards called out, “There’s a woman over there!” Sure enough, just within the range of our lamps was a lone figure draped in a thin shawl.

The guard wanted to rush to her assistance, but the rest of us were far more suspicious. “Think about it, man, who could survive out here for more than a minute dressed like that? This is obviously a trap.”

Olmas, Ivan and I cautiously moved forward.

“Who are you?” I called out.

She replied, “My name is Uki.” Uki? That was a Tien name. We became even more suspicious.

Olmas asked, “Why are you here?”

“I am lost.”

“Well, come over to us. Just come into the light.”

“I am afraid of all of the people!”

Finally some truth. We moved closer toward her and predictably she drifted a bit further away. It became colder and windier the further we strayed from camp. I called back for assistance.

A moment later and Uki Revealed herself to be some sort of malevolent ice spirit. A few more moments after that and she was dead.

Moonday, Kuthona 31, 4712 evening
Caravan

A silver dragon flew overhead again this morning. I wonder if it is the same one we have seen before? It is hard to see details in the ever present darkness, but it was hard to miss the unmistakable glitter of starlight on silver scales.

I wish it would land by the caravan for a visit.

One of our wagon drivers, Vankor, has become shaken by the ever present darkness and unending plane of ice. He shivers and starts at any noise, and cannot abide being around our oxen and horses. I suspect sighting of the dragon may have pushed him over the edge.

I offered to speak to him and calm his nerves. Talk about Groetus and his promise of the end of the world and how soothing that is. Kali seemed to think this a bad idea, but I was allowed to try a restorative spell on him, which appeared to have helped some.

This has caused a shift in who is riding in which dragon. Kali is now acting as the caravan’s fortune teller (is there anything she can’t do?).

I volunteered to ride with Sparna. I thought this would be a good opportunity to get to know our dwarven friend better. So far this has not worked out as I had hoped. He just grunts when I talk to him, if he even bothers to respond at all. I bet if you looked up “taciturn” in a dictionary there’d be a drawing of Sparna next to the definition. I started talking to the oxen instead, which is some improvement although Sparna’s eye tick has become more pronounced.

Moonday, Kuthona 31, 4712 near midnight
Caravan

The old year is just about to die. For some followers of Groetus today is a special holy day of sorts. I find it more symbolic than anything, and my little mice friends and I shiver through the cold as we watch the stars wheel across the sky, oblivious to the notion of a calendar.

When I think back on my life as it was exactly one year ago I am in awe of all of the changes I have passed through since.

Toilday, Abadius 1, 4713 mid morning
Caravan

We began to notice them an hour after breaking camp. Now the ever present sound of our rolling of wheels over the hard ice and grunt of oxen is joined by the creaking, popping joints of ice skeletons and the moans of wights and other undead abominations that are chasing after us.

They are not fast, and we can keep ahead of them, but obviously they will overtake us as soon as we stop to rest. Already I can tell that their number has increased since we first noticed them. Katiyana’s threat appears to have been more than an idle one.

Toilday, Abadius 1, 4713 afternoon
Caravan

Ulf has a plan. Sort of. We will reach Dead Man’s Dome in a few hours, and while the tower is a ruin the hill itself offers a tactical advantage in combat. It also has a road that spirals up where the wagons and beasts can be protected by those of us who will first face the undead.

We have augmented Ulf’s idea with our own details. The undead we have seen are fairly mindless, and will simply pursue and attack their nearest foes. We will use walls of flame to funnel the approaching creatures into a kill zone before the base of Dead Man’s Dome.

Once we arrive we will jump off the wagons, which will continue up the hill, and we will take up a position among the rubble near the base of the dome and attack the undead as they approach.

Toilday, Abadius 1, 4713 evening
Caravan

Everything went almost exactly as we had planned. Ivan created massive walls of fire that prevented the horde from flanking us. Their direction of approach now being fixed Kali was able to create several storms of falling rocks to cascade down upon our enemies, damaging many and hindering all who passed through the resultant field of rubble. I used a spiritual ally to hammer the undead while the rest of my companions used ranged weapons and spells to take them down.

And then something unexpected occurred. Not unexpected bad, but unexpected good, and anyone who has survived a fair amount of combat can tell you just how rare that is.

The first wave of undead had passed the initial hurtles and fell upon us as a tall ghostly figure rose up from the earth. It wore ancient armor and wielded a a great sword, which it promptly used to slice a wight in half.

The “Dead Man” from Dead Man’s Dome had arisen and come to our aid!

The first surge of creatures had been defeated and the second approached. I decided to get more personally involved with this group and took to the air, flying over clumps of the foul things and radiating bursts of positive energy.

Our combined efforts were very effective, and the entire army of undead perished before us. As the last wight died a loud cackle of hysterical laughter filled the air. But it soon changed into a wail that faded in the darkness.

Our ghostly ally bowed before us, and then walked up the hill as we followed, curious as to where he was going. Kali rushed off to bring Ulf and the others from the caravan to meet our unexpected defender.

The Dead Man pointed at the rubble and after moving about some stones I found a terracotta figurine of a warrior that radiated magic. He then saluted us and faded back into the ground.

[431] figurine of terracotta warrior: a symbol of good

  • once per day the bearer can reroll an attack roll
  • once a day the bearer can summon a spiritual ally

Although he was a bit reluctant at first, Sparna agreed to bear the figurine.

Ulf was beside himself with wonder. It turns out he only half believed the story he had told earlier. “Make no mistake about it but I have a great yarn to tell once I return home, not that many will believe me!”

 

Character: Kali

Kali’s Journal, Kuthona 22, 4712 – Abadius 1, 4713

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Kuthona 22, 4712 (evening, The Storm Tower)

Ameiko and Koya wanted to see the tower that was at the center of all this turmoil, so we obliged. I mean, why not? We had cleared it out so it was safe—aside from the sludge—and it was completely alien in design and construction, unlike anything any of us had ever seen or were likely to see again. Ultimately, this journey is about restoring Ameiko’s rightful place as heir to the empire of Minkai but it is also about traveling far away from home and seeing the world outside of Avistan, and all the strange and wondrous sights it has to offer. A piece of that world was staring at us right here, right now. When we would have another opportunity?

Ameiko seemed just as interested in the remorhaz as the ancient, basalt spire. I understand the appeal, especially after having stood in close quarters with two of them. They have a reputation in this part of the world that is, frankly, well deserved. And, Sparna offered what I thought was a pretty good idea, inspired by the talisman that Ulf carries. We could fashion a few of our own from their scales and use them in much the same way as Iqaliat. When we arrive in Tian Xia we may need a system for identifying who we can trust, and fetishes of our own may be the answer. That, and trophies made from remorhaz scales kind of send a message about who people are dealing with. I have little patience for convincing others to take me seriously and I suspect Ameiko has even less, so why not make that first impression count?

Ulf wants to pick up the Path of Aganhei again and according to him the best place to do that is at Dead Man’s Dome. I imagine this has a lot to do with the fact that it’s one of only a handful of identifiable landmarks around for literally hundreds of miles. Once we clear the Alabastrine Peaks, Ulf says we turn right and head south. Though just about everything is “south” from where we are, so I’m pretty sure that “head south” was meant as a gag.

I almost wrote “We leave at first light”, but of course there isn’t one and there won’t be for several more weeks.

Dead Man’s Dome used to be a fortified tower of some sort, an outpost along the Path of Aganhei that extended the protection for travelers onto the Ice itself. A couple hundred years ago, though, it was attacked by a small army of giants and frozen dead while several caravans were sheltered there. It threatened to be more of a slaughter than a battle, but a soldier whose name has long been lost to time mustered a brilliant counterattack that shattered the attacking formation. As the giants regrouped, the surviving guards and caravans managed an escape, but that one, lone soldier stayed behind and lured the attackers into the tower before collapsing it on himself and them. It is a seemingly fantastical story that, as near as I can tell, is absolutely true, and it hasn’t even been embellished.

Ulf says that, according to legend, the ghost of the Dead Man protects the dome to this day. Six months ago I would have scoffed at such a notion, but not now. Etayne and Koya would be pleased.

We’re going to try and speak with Katiyana’s corpse before leaving tomorrow. It’s become a disturbing ritual, but it has to be done, right?

That’s what I keep telling myself.

Kuthona 23, 4712 (midday, The High Ice)

Katiyana’s essence was about as cooperative as I’d expected. She (it?) gave circular answers that told us basically nothing, though that may have been in part because we didn’t know what to ask. This spell seems to work best when you are seeking to confirm that which you already know or at least suspect. The more general or vague you are the less likely you are to be satisfied.

One of our questions was answered with a threat of sorts.

“Who are the others you were working with?” Qatana asked.

“I was allied with felled creatures of the frozen north, raised from death”, she replied in that hollow, lifeless voice we’re used to from this spell. And then she laughed. An eerie facsimile of a laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. “My allied creatures may yet thwart you.”

So that is something to look forward to.

She also implied rather strongly that she wasn’t associated with the oni of the Five Storms. As she put it, she served “the Frozen Lord who shall return.” Uh huh. Good luck with that. It’s reasonable to assume that she was working alone up here until very recently, and Tunuak seems to have been a lucky break rather than part of any kind of master plan. He was probably the only one of her victims that was useful to her alive, and I doubt that hoarfrost spirits and whatever other undead she’d created from the rest served as anything more than brute force. Sithhud is going to have to get used to disappointment.

Kuthona 24, 4712 (evening, The High Ice)

I talked to mom and dad today. I actually tried last night but it didn’t work, or rather, not all of it did. I could see mom and even hear her, but when I tried the spell that would let me talk to her? Nothing. All I could do was sit there and watch as she worked in the office.

I actually did that for a while—watch her as she worked. I couldn’t let the image go. And then I realized how voyeuristic it was. As much as I wanted just to see them again, doing it this way suddenly felt horribly wrong, and I let it go.

Tonight, though, I got through.

“Mom.”

There is a difference between knowing something might happen and actually having it happen. She and dad knew what to expect because I’d made these plans with them that day back in Magnimar, but she still nearly jumped out of her seat. I mean she literally jumped. So I guess I surprised her.

“Kali! Thank the gods you’re OK!” There was a pause, then a look of concern on her face as she looked around reflexively. “Are you OK? Where are you?”

“Near the north pole. Yes, I’m OK. We all are.”

It took a couple of minutes—precious time I didn’t really have with this spell—for her to find dad and get back to where they could talk privately. I was treated to a short tour of the office, though I could only see a small bubble around her as she walked. Unsurprisingly, it hadn’t really changed since I’d left.

“We received the letters,” dad said. “There were three?”

“Yes.”

“They gave us quite a scare. What happened up there?”

I was more or less expecting this question and had prepared an answer. “We guessed they’d be watching for us and they were. They’ve been there for decades, patiently waiting in case someone from Amieko’s family turned up. They’d formed a small criminal empire of sorts using a trading guild as a front. Like the Sczarni in a way.”

Mom spoke up then. “We’ve heard rumors of a guild coming into trouble with the king there.”

“Yes. That was us. And them. You won’t hear our names, though. The public face of it is an Ulfen merchant named Lute Haggersly. If you are looking for new business contacts up there, by the way, he’s someone to trust. He’ll remember my name.”

We didn’t have much time so I quickly recounted the highlights from Kalsgard to points north. More surprises, more alarm, especially after I got around to Iqaliat.

Dad interrupted this time. “A dragon?! Kali—”

“It was a small one. If that helps.”

“Kali…” He paused, and I got the sense he changed what he was planning to say. “We are both immensely proud of what you are doing, and what you have accomplished. Both you and your friends.”

But.

“But, we worry that events continue to escalate.”

Mom spoke up, then. “So far you’ve been able to handle it. But it feels like things are on the verge of spiraling out of control. How will you know if…?”

She trailed off, not able to put the question into words. It didn’t matter though because I knew what she was asking me. And I didn’t have an answer for it. Not one that would satisfy them, anyway.

“You might be right. I—I know that’s not what you want to hear. I can only say that we’ve all agreed not to take needless risks. That this isn’t worth our lives. I know that’s not much, but…it’s the best I can offer. We learned a lot from Kalsgard.”

They asked how Ameiko was doing so I told them. It was an abrupt and awkward change of subject, but I get it. In their position, I would have wanted to do that, too.

I am probably making this conversation sound like something of a downer. It wasn’t like that, really. It was just honest. But it’s not something I’m used to doing with them, and if I feel and sound a little numb I guess that’s just me coping with it.

“When will we hear from you next?” dad asked.

We had just a few seconds left and I could feel the spell coming to an end. The image of them in front of me was starting to fade.

“We should reach Tian Xia in a month, plus a week or two to get through the mountains.”

“Take care of yourself, and your friends,” he said.

“We miss you and love you. And we want you to come back to us.”

“I miss you and love you both. I will make it back. That is a promise.”

The uncomfortable truth is that this isn’t a promise I could really make. I mean, how did know that I could keep it? We didn’t know what really lay ahead of us. But the point is that I meant it. They knew that, too, and that’s what mattered.

I managed to hold my composure until after the spell expired.

Kuthona 28, 4712 (night, The High Ice)

For the last several days we’ve had clear weather that would qualify as pleasant if it wasn’t so cold. I was beginning to think we might actually make it to Dead Man’s Dome without incident, but tonight as we were making camp word started spreading that there was a figure of some sort just out beyond our light. A woman walking alone in the freezing darkness. Naturally, this put everyone on edge because, really, how could that possibly be what it appeared? Olmas rode out on Kasimir to investigate, with Qatana and Ivan close behind.

The short of it is: it wasn’t a woman. Surprise. Not a living one, anyway. She was a malevolent spirit of some sort, and was trying to draw people away from camp. Mostly it was the others that dealt with it. There just wasn’t much I could do to contribute. This has me rethinking some decisions I made about which spells I have chosen to learn. Each one takes precious time, and of course money in special ink and fees, so when I was starting out these decisions were difficult to make. Now that money is less of an issue, and time is something we have far too much of, I don’t have to make tough choices. The problem I have now is even more frustrating: no resources. I can manage a couple of news spells on my own as my skills grow, but that is about it for self study. It could be weeks before we are in a suitable town or city.

I am a little surprised we haven’t attracted more attention. Our caravan is putting out a lot of light. We knew we’d be crossing the Crown in the dead of winter, and that we’d be going a couple of months without the sun. If we wanted to see by we’d have to supply our own light. Qatana, Ulf, Ivan, and I made up plans for a couple of bulls eye lanterns for the covered wagon that Sandru drives, and regular lanterns to go on the others. Each one is lit by a magical flame that Qatana produced. It was expensive—each casting consumes a small ruby—but they never go out unless magically extinguished. We can see as far as 100 feet away in all directions, and even farther in front due to the head lamps. We’re a very visible beacon, one that can be seen for miles and miles in the darkness. Not everything up here is blind.

Kuthona 31, 4712 (mid-day, The High Ice)

The Silver dragon flew over us again while we were stopped for lunch. I assume it was the same dragon, anyway. How can one tell? It was big, it was silver, it was a dragon. That was about as far as I could get on distinguishing features. It didn’t stick around, either, which I assume is a good sign. No news being good news, and so on.

Other than that, it was shaping up to be an uneventful day. And then we broke camp.

Vankor, one of our drivers, was pretty visibly shaken. I remember thinking he looked a little nervous this morning, but didn’t think much of it at the time. After only a few hours he was clearly doing much, much worse. He wouldn’t go near any of the wagons, or rather, the musk-oxen that were pulling them.

Both Ulf and Koya are sure it’s Howl of the North, a form of madness that comes from being without the sun for weeks on end, and I agree.

His brother Bevelek said, “I noticed he’d been a little slow to get moving in mornings. Reluctant, even.”

Sandru nodded his head. “I had, too, but I didn’t want to give him a hard time. I just figured…I guess it was getting to him, only a lot more than I realized.”

Qatana pulled out some of our diamond dust and tried a restorative spell that works on these sorts of things. It produced some results, which is encouraging, but it didn’t cure him completely. We may give it time, or we may try the spell again.

For now, Sparna will take his position as driver, and Koya will watch over him. That meant we needed someone to perform the divinations for the caravan, and I think just about everyone was shocked when I said, “I’ll do it.”

Koya looked at me skeptically for a moment—Yeah, I would doubt me, too, I thought—but then she smiled, nodded, and said, “OK. Come with me.”

Why am I doing this? I guess I’ve come around. Koya is no charlatan, and I’ve learned to respect that there is real magic at the core of what she does for us. That, and if we were counting debts, I’d be in hers many times over. This seems like a step towards balancing those scales.

New Year’s Day, 4713 (mid-day, Dead Man’s Dome)

Our scouts tell us that a large group of undead are trailing us, and I can just barely make out a handful of figures lumbering behind us at the far reaches of our light. The first skeleton was spotted early this morning, just a few hours after we set out, but as the day drew on more and more undead were seen converging on our flanks. It doesn’t appear that they can get ahead of us, but they really don’t have to: we and our animals have to stop and rest at some point, and they do not. We’re going to have to pick a time and place to make a stand.

Ulf has suggested doing that at Dead Man’s Dome. It’s where we are headed, anyway, and we should arrive in a couple of hours if we just continue on. The Dome will gives us some defensive terrain which sounds much better than trying to do this out here in the open. Plus, the longer we go the more likely we’ll be to draw them all out and get them following behind us instead of converging from all around.

That doesn’t mean this isn’t tense. I’m told there are at least a couple of dozen of them out there, now, and I have no doubt that more are coming. A few skeletons, wights, and even hoarfrost spirits are not a threat to us, but a few dozen is a different matter. And, it’s not just us: it’s the wagons, the animals, Vankor who is essentially helpless, and our provisions. It is on everyone’s mind and the wait is not helping. We also don’t have much of a margin for error. If another wagon axle breaks, if we wander off the path and get stuck, if anything slows us down at all… We have to be ready to face them at a moment’s notice.

We are fortunate that the weather has been good, and the packed ice and snow here has been fairly level and smooth. It was not easy, but I was able to spend the last 20 minutes or so memorizing some spells, filling the reserves I had held back for the day. There are some spells we’ll want that I do not normally prepare.

Thank the gods I have fallen into that habit.

(evening, Dead Man’s Dome)

The ground below us is littered with the shattered and charred remains of the undead. I am, frankly, stunned by the combined destructive power that we can bring to bear. We have obliterated some three or four dozen of them in a matter of minutes, and much of that time was spent preparing for the second wave of the attack.

Granted, as Olmas and Sparna would say, this was probably the best possible scenario for us. We had the higher ground. We more or less knew what we were up against. We could define the encounter. They had limited capacity to plan or respond. We had more resources at our disposal, from abilities to weapons to magic. And, most importantly, we had time to prepare.

I am beginning to understand why powerful spell casters are as often feared by the common man as they are revered. I am also more than a little frightened by my own potential. Since this began, I have spent most of my energy and efforts supporting the others, either through direct action or by hindering our foes, giving us small advantages wherever possible. Actually participating in a fight directly has always been a last resort, when there was nothing better for me to do. This time, direct action was called for, and I rained down earth and fire, over and over again after the aurochs had flattened the front lines.

Granted, these creatures were undead and no one will mourn them, but what lies ahead of us? How often will I be facing living, breathing beings? I’ve done it a few times, and it has never sat well afterwards. Mom and dad are worried that we may face a situation that is beyond our abilities. I guess my fear is different: I worry there will be a day when it no longer tugs at my conscience.

The biggest surprise of the day came from Dead Man’s Dome, itself. Just as the first wave began its assault, a ghostly figure rose from the ground ahead of us and took a place in our defensive line. It did not take long for us to understand that this was the spirit of the Dead Man, himself. I did not get a close look at the manifestation, but it reminded me of what we had seen back in Brinewall: energy given physical form, only protective instead of destructive. As it stood there waiting for the second wave, someone quickly brought Ulf down to see. I understand that it was quite a shock.

Later in the evening, after we had made camp and the Dead Man had sunk back into the earth, we were sitting around the campfires, eating and talking. Just on a whim, I asked Ulf what he thought about what we’d witnessed.

“By the gods, do I have a story to tell! No one will ever believe me, but—You know, I had my doubts about leading you fools across here at this time of year, but this here made it worth it.”

I decided to let the “fools” comment go.