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
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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!”