Toilday, Lamashan 9, 4712 evening
northern caravan route

Thanks to the warning from the silver dragon we had a chance to prepare well before we reached the trolls. Kali sent Nihali out to reconnoiter, and she reported back that there was a camp of about eight large blue skinned creates some distance ahead, and a little off of the main route.

The caravan continued on until we were within a mile or so from the ice trolls, and Sandru arranged the wagons in defensive positions “just in case.”

Our group (minus Anna, who kept to her word of sticking with the caravan) walked off in the direction Nihali reported the troll camp lay. Maybe a mile later we saw a cluster of ice trolls. They had clearly seen us, and one walked towards us, hands out as if in greeting, and said (in very broken common), “Friends! Come to help you. Lost? It be fine. We assist.”

My personal philosophy is to leave other creatures alone if they leave you alone. And as unlikely as a friendly troll (blue skin or not) might seem, I would have been perfectly happy to send a cheery greeting and then after a brief social call been on my way.

Unfortunately several of the other trolls were moving out in an obviously flanking maneuver, and our would be friend then gloated (in giant) to his companions, “My brothers, we don’t have to look for dinner tonight. It comes to us!”

Sigh.

After a short skirmish the ice trolls all lay dead and burning. Somehow I could not feel bad about killing these foes as I did the giant we had encountered a fortnight ago, but I cannot explain the difference. He seemed sad and pathetic, while these creatures seemed vile and calculating. I guess feelings are seldom logical.

We searched their camp and amidst a pile of bodies found some coins and a ring.

	80 gp of coins
[385]	ring of sustenance

We returned to the caravan. Later that night after dinner we recounted our encounter with the ice trolls. Ulf then told a story of when he came across a chimera composed of a walrus, a polar bear, and a white dragon. He led the creature away from the caravan, and then crept back and his party made good their escape. There was no telling if this tale was true or not, but the fact that it involved sneaking about rather than fighting the beast made me believe him.

Oathday, Lamashan 11, 4712 evening
northern caravan route

It was much colder this morning than it had been, and only seemed to get colder still as the day advanced. Before we had even set out a strong wind had picked up, and snow began to fall, or more precisely it was whipped around by the wind and blown into our faces. It became difficult to see more than a few yards ahead, forcing our scouts to pull in and lead the way. It was slow going, and by late afternoon drifts of snow had piled up deep enough to slow our progress even more.

At dinner everyone crowded closely around our small cooking fires, glad for the orange glow and a hint of warmth.

Fireday, Lamashan 12, 4712 evening
northern caravan route

The snow, wind and intense cold continued and we struggled to cover only a few miles. When asked about it, Ulf shrugged and grumbled about an unseasonable blizzard. It is miserable, but I am lucky that I travel in a wagon. Our scouts and their mounts bear the brunt of the weather.

Starday, Lamashan 13, 4712 evening
northern caravan route

The blizzard intensified and the snow drifts completely blocked our way. Ulf decided we would not even try to move today, and spirits plunged lower than the temperature.

Taking advantage of having a kitchen all day long I decided to make bread. Ameiko looked amusingly on as I made the dough, and then stripped naked and pulled the mixing bowl into my bedroll with me as she piled on extra blankets and furs. There was no way the yeast was going to grow in the cold, and body heat was the only source of warmth we could afford for the hours it would take for the bread to rise. And it worked! We surprised the camp with a hearty stew of salted meat and warm fresh baked bread for dinner.

For desert I splurged and used some of our precious honey along with some butter, nuts and cardamom to make a wonderfully sweet flaky pastry that everyone enjoyed.

“How do you feel about Ameiko being the heir to the royal house of Minkai?” I asked Shalelu.

It was late and we were both on watch. The weather had calmed considerably, and the camp itself was glowing with magical light that extended out a good distance in all directions. The cold was still intense and each of us wandered about with our own private miniature snow storm as our breath froze and fell as ice flurries before us.

Shalelu paused for a moment, and replied, “It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it? Who would have thought? Sometimes I wonder how she’ll adjust to the change, although Minkai would be in good hands with her on the throne. She may shake things up a bit — you know how she likes conforming to rules… I think it’s a good thing, though, and I’m glad to be part of this adventure to get her there in one piece.”

I knew Shalelu had been on numerous journeys in the past. She had gone all of the way to Kaer Maga to rescue me; and although she never brought it up, it was well known that she had accompanied the Sandpoint heroes for part of their quest.

“Have you ever journeyed as far as we plan to go?”

“No, this is a longer journey than I’d ever have imagined myself making.” she said softly, almost to herself.

That was food for thought. Here we were on an epic voyage of enormous scope, and who knew if we would all arrive at our journey’s end, or what we would do once it was all over.

“If we make it to Tien and manage to restore Ameiko to her rightful place, will you remain there with her, or return back to Sandpoint?”

“Hmm,” she pondered, “I will stay for a while, at least. I’d like to see what the forests of Minkai are like. Perhaps I’ll find a new place to roam, or perhaps I’ll feel the call of my old woods again.”

It was hard to imagine Sandpoint without Shalelu, but I could see her point. Why hurry back on another arduous voyage when you have a whole new continent to explore? I thought of my own return trip and who might accompany me. This brought to mind our unexpected companion.

“What do you think of Skygni? Isn’t he great? Have you ever had a wolf for a companion?”

There was a long pause before she answered, “I… yeah, you know winter wolves don’t have the greatest reputation… But I reckon we haven’t been harmed by the creature, and maybe he will turn out to be a worthwhile companion. I do like the thought of a supposedly-evil creature showing his nature to be good, that we need to look at every animal with intelligence as a person and not just say, ”Wolf! Kill it!” So for that I’m glad.”

Yeah, I knew Shalelu would be happy having Skygni around.

We continued our watch in silence, and my mind wandered over our more recent encounters, and about the uneasy truce that stood between between Olmas (and Suishen) and Ameiko concerning her participation in combat.

“So, what do you think about trying to keep Ameiko safe? Olmas (and his sword) seems to hover about and treat her like she is fragile. I could not help but notice that you stayed back guarding the caravan when Ameiko insisted on coming along with us to fight — I guess you trust her ability to take care of herself in combat more than… others.”

Shalelu snorted, “Ameiko is an accomplished adventurer who has survived battle before, and I had a job to do guarding the caravan. Besides, my young friend, you and your companions are getting quite good at this battle stuff by now. I think you don’t need all of us at your side anymore just to stay alive. Who knows,” and here she looked at me with a grin, “maybe I’ll need you to defend me before long!”

I laughed at that. The time was was a long way off indeed for Shalelu to need me to defend her!

Sunday, Lamashan 14, 4712 evening
northern caravan route

While still overcast with heavy grey clouds, the wind and snow had stopped completely, and even the extreme cold seemed to have relented. Skygni stopped by to check on us after the storm, which appeared to have caused him no trouble at all. “Get used to it,” was all he had to say about it, although he did add “Such storms are unusual for this early and this far south.”

We broke camp and the caravan pushed on through the drifts. The clouds thinned as the day wore on, and a breeze picked up toward sunset, shredding the remaining clouds and blowing them away as welcome beams from the setting sun painted the snow pink.

Ulf said that tomorrow we will branch off the caravan route and make for the village of Iqaliat, nestled beneath the plateau upon which perched the Crown of the World.

Wealday, Lamashan 17, 4712 after noon
Iqaliat

The morning broke with a sky of deep cobalt blue and the sun peeking over the horizon to the southeast. Around us were hills and ridges covered in snow, but to the north we could see a dark band that stretched across the horizon, like low storm clouds.

As we made our way north the dark band became a glowering face of rock and ice. This was our first glimpse of the great ice cap over which we would soon be traveling, and it looked every bit as forbidding as Ulf had warned it would.

Half a mile from the cliff we saw a tall stone wall extending out from its base, with a large gate on the left, and a smaller door to the right. Within a hundred yards of the wall Ulf called for a halt.

He summoned the six of us and described what lay in wait for us in Iqaliat. “They are an isolated inward people, and do not expect to make any friends while here. Let me lead and do the talking until we are within the walls.” He then pulled out a talisman and said, “This was given to me by the village hearth-mistress on an earlier visit, and should grant us entry.”

With those encouraging words we came to the small door. We could see guards glaring at us from over the wall, but Ulf called out words of welcome and held up the talisman. The door opened and we entered.

“Unfriendly,” Ulf had said of the townfolk of Iqaliat. Hostile seemed more closer to the mark. The hearth-mistress, Sonavut, arrived and welcomed us to her village, and surprised us with an invitation to accompany her to her lodge where we could talk in comfort.

As we passed through the village Ulf questioned her about our cold reception. Apparently the degree of animosity expressed by the guards and inhabitants had surprised even him.

Iqaliat, it seemed, was going through a difficult time. The winter storms had started early this year and now a white dragon was periodically attacking the town, killing people for no reason.

The village shaman, it seems, had a reason. The bad weather and dragon attacks were the result of the town turning its back on their traditional ways. Specifically there was not enough suffering and sacrifice to the local gods.

We got a look at the shaman on the way to Sonavut’s house. A throng of people surrounded him as he railed against them and their leaders for being unfaithful and bringing the wrath of their former allies against them. And (of course) only he had the answer. Yeah. Sure.

Once inside with Sonavut we discovered that the normal caravan route to the high ice was impassible. Incredibly fierce storms had come down from the Crown, and the only way up onto the ice was the steep pass beyond Iqaliat. But the white dragon lived in the pass, making it unsafe as well.

This seemed like a no brainer, and I suggested that we could take care of the dragon, thus solving the town’s current problem as well as clearing the way for our caravan to travel north. Sonavut agreed to take us to the chief to find out more about the dragon.

We left he house and upon seeing us again the shaman shrieked, “There they are, the cursed outsiders. One of them must be sacrificed to appease the gods!” Angry shouts from the crowd rose up in support of this demand.

That his ravings were turning the villagers violently against us was obvious (and Detect Magic indicated he was using more than just words to do so), but why he was doing so was puzzling.

Olmas tried to reason with the shaman and villagers, and while his arguments would have swayed rational men, this was a mob. Mobs were irrational and driven by fear and anger. And being a servant of Groetus I could do fear and anger.

I stepped in to the verbal fray and flung the shaman’s words back at him. The verbal battle lasted but a few moments, and in the end the shaman stood leaning on his staff, silent for now, but breathing heavily.

“There will be no sacrifice today!” The chief had arrived and ended the debate. The shaman glared at us with such loathing and hatred that I could almost physically feel it. He then stomped off away from the crowd.

Seriously? He could not have made himself more suspicious if he had painted himself purple and danced about the village square naked yelling, “Look at me!” Radella began to casually saunter off after the shaman, and Kali quickly cast Invisibility on her. The rest of us were pulled into the chief’s office to discuss the dragon, but Kali had also cast a Message spell to keep in touch with Radella.

The dragon, we learned, was not exceptionally large, but still big enough to rip a human in half and fly away with the remains. The chief had sent the town’s best warriors up to where the dragon lived, but never returned. We once again offered to take care of the town’s dragon problem, for which the chief was grateful.

But the chief was also mindful of the town’s mood. He warned us that while we could spend the evening here, we had best be gone the next day. We had planned on staying with the caravan anyway.

All of this time Radella had followed the shaman through a secret doorway in the wall, which opened onto a tunnel. At the end of the tunnel was a guard, and another secret door. She followed the shaman through into a vast ice chamber. A large crevice in the ceiling lead up to the sky, and a ramp spiraled around and down to an icy floor below. The shaman had gone down below, but a pale figure stood on the ramp staring at Radella, despite her invisibility.

She wisely decided it was a good time to return back to us with news of what she had found. A few minutes later she had discretely joined us as we made our way back to the caravan.

Ulf listened to Radella’s description of the pale humanoid and declared it was probably a frost spirit — a type of undead creature formed when people died from the cold. Undead? I looked steadily at Kali and she nodded back. I cannot abide undead.

We decided to search for the crevice and confront the shaman in his secret lair that very day. Depending upon what we found, we would then move on to find the white dragon. I would have preferred to have had access to some spells to protect us from the cold, but Ivan was able to provide these and so we prepared to leave.

I found Shalelu and informed her of what had happened and what we were up to.

“We’re off to find out what the local shaman has been up to. Oh, and we might go looking for a white dragon too. What do you think of dragons? Have you ever encountered one before? That silver dragon we saw last week was great. I wonder is Skygni would get along with a white dragon. They both like the cold.”

Shalelu exclaimed, “Dragons! By the gods, there is a world of difference between a white and a silv- yes, I know what I said about the wolf, but this is dragons we’re talking about! If you go after it, be careful as if your very lives hang in the balance of every move you make, because they surely do!”

Thankful for the advice, I rejoined my companions. Nihali had been sent out to find the crevice and had just returned. We would use Fly spells from the wand I had created and follow Nihali to the entrance.

A short while later we were hovering above the shaman’s hideout. Bones littered the floor below. Frost spirits stood on the ramp leading down and on the floor. The shaman stood before an altar made from skulls and more bones.

We dropped down toward the floor and Sparna confronted the shaman. He sputtered and stammered the expected drivel about “survival of the village,”and “you don’t understand… the spirits…” Right. The usual hollow justifications made by petty tyrants everywhere.

Seeing we were unconvinced, the shaman went on the offensive, calling on the wind god’s protection. A powerful river of wind knocked Sparna to the floor, and the undead minions began to clamber towards him.

The shaman vanished, but Kali used Glitter Dust to show he was still there.

We began to carve our way through the horde of undead, but the shaman possessed more power than we had thought, and used spells such as Unholy Blight against us. I lessened his abilities with Touch of Idiocy.

When the last of his undead had fallen, the shaman turned into a gaseous vapor, but before he could flit away, we killed him. He resumed solid form and landed with a soft thud onto the floor.

We were about to sift through his belongings when Radella pointed at the altar and cried out, “Look!”

A broken white dragon egg lay there.

Prick! It looks like he intentionally brought the ire of the dragon against the village.