| This book was found in the Lost
City of Frore during the Sudden Season event. The
Expedition of
Sir Joffre Tremblant, of Rithwic,
and his Fellowship,
Yarick Pathwarden,
Palomar Ben-Cabalah,
Ion Lundgren,
Fidisa the Agile,
and Luma Homini,
in search of the legendary city of
Frore,
as recorded by
Yarick Pathwarden.
Entry 1
We have finally encountered the ice caves in which the city
of Frore is rumored to be hallowed. It is colder than a Tumerok's heart in here! Fidisa
managed to pick the lock of the door near the cavern mouth, and with the rope from my
pack, we all rappelled down the sheer drop-off afterwards. The Gelidites did indeed go to
great lengths to protect their privacy! And the walls, embedded with brilliant blue
crystals, give off an eerie glow as if they possessed an energy all their own.
There are many tunnels to explore, we will bear rightward
according to Palomar's divinations.
Entry 2
We have wandered the tunnels for more than a day and found
little but frozen waste. At the lower depths the cold becomes unbearable - we rest now
shrouded in the warmth of the Cold Protection spells Palomar has cast.
Entry 3
The tunnels are a confusing series of interconnected
switchbacks even my enhanced intuition cannot make heads or tails of. Perhaps the piercing
cold is ruining our concentration. Some areas are warmer than others, we will stick to
them to preserve energy. Still no signs of civilization, although we have witnessed
disturbing signs of life: noises that seem to come from within the walls themselves,
flickers of movement that shadow us every now and then, and the chamber in which we now
make camp - a disturbing hollow furnished only with human skulls. We are wary of resting
here, but Sir Joffre assures us that whatever caused this carnage has long since passed
away. I am not so sure.
Entry 4
We have happened upon a construction that can only have been
made by the hands of men - or something greater. A symmetrical arrangement of large
stones, perfectly shaped. Could this be the entrance to their lost civilization? There is
more to explore downward but it is colder there. We will make camp to recoup before
probing further.
Entry 5
They came for us, swarms of them, while we were in camp. It
was as if they were waiting for us to let down our guard. Hideous reincarnations of the
dead, their ghastly visages reflected their single lust - our deaths. We dispatched them,
but Fidisa caught a mortal blow during the melee, and the hideous creatures dragged her
corpse away before we could act. These monoliths will serve as grim markers of the place
of her demise. We press deeper into the caves, shaken but still vigilant in our mission.
Entry 6
I have never experienced such a bone chilling cold before
this day. Or night? I have lost track of time in these damned caverns. The frosted
passages ended in a carved stone hallway, which is a most encouraging sign. Perhaps we are
close to discovering the city!
The dead continue to besiege us. Sir Joffre, in his valor,
has been injured but Luma's healing skills seem to have brought the wound under control.
Palomar is growing weak, and his magical supplies are dwindling. I don't know how much
longer he can maintain our protection from the cold. Moments ago the magic fizzled thrice
in a row before finally providing us with heat sufficient to brave these depths.
Entry 7
What a wonder to behold! We have made our way to what can
only be the object of our quest, it appears to be the entrance to a ruined city! Toppled
walls and debris are testament to the existence of a once thriving metropolis buried far,
far below the ice. There are no signs of life here, but I don't know whether to be
disturbed or relieved. We have only scratched the surface - amidst the few ruined
structures that lie here we have discovered a locked gate - what lies beyond can only be
what we have been searching for! There is another arrangement of stones here, which seems
to radiate a powerful energy.
Palomar warns us of the peril that may lie beyond, but we are
all in agreement that there is plenty of peril where we stand. There is still much to
explore in the surrounding area, so we shall regroup before attempting to find a way
beyond the gate.
Entry 8
Oh what horrible fate has found us here! We were startled by
a roar from a pack of undead that seemed to appear from nowhere - I feel we have disturbed
the spirits of these caves and they unleashed upon us their fury in the form of these
shambling corpses. We fought valiantly but Luma, our healer, was rent asunder by the
beasts' bony fingers, and we were unable to best them. Again, the dead swept her mortal
remains away. I am chilled by this behavior, the way they steal our companions' bleeding
forms away from us. I do not believe I shall sleep soundly again, until I see our
companions safely resurrected at the Lifestone in Arwic. At least our departed comrades
will be able to tell the world what we have found here!
But lo, that is not the worst of terrors in this forsaken
place! We fled towards the gate only to be confronted by the three magical guardians of
Gelidite legend - Fenngar, Frisander, and Ferundi! They had long since breathed their
last, and their grotesque incarnations removed all desire for us to pass through that
gate.
With one swing of Fenngar's mighty warhammer, our leader Sir
Joffre was smashed to bits. Frisander unleashed upon us a volley of frost, the intensity
of which no living mage could ever hope to reproduce. We watched in horror while Ferundi
pointed his decayed finger at Palomar and sucked the life out of him swith such violence
that Palomar's desiccated flesh literally exploded off of his body. With Palomar went our
last hope to resist the bitter cold.
Ion and I beat as hasty a retreat as we could, our numbing
legs carrying us back away from the gate and past the great frost monster. As our
protection from the bone-chilling air waned, Ion and I fled the accursed city to find the
warmth of the upper caves. We now rest briefly before beginning to make our way out of
here. We regret most that we could not even attempt to retrieve Sir Joffre's body - a most
unholy burial he shall have!
Entry 9
There is not much time for writing, as we must keep moving to
stay warm. The dead assault us in droves - Ion is wounded in his left arm and can no
longer draw his bow, fighting instead with a mace. I fear my sword will soon shatter to
bits in this frigid air. My fingers will be sure to follow. How we long to see the sun
again soon.
Entry 10
Cannot find the egress. Best guesses as to its whereabouts
all wrong. Accursed tunnels, we are lost! I grow sleepy. Soon Ion shall have to carry me
out of here ...
The remainder of the journal was found on the corpse of Ion
Lundgren.
Entry 13
It has been three days since we fled the forsaken gates of
Frore - may it remain buried forever! - and I fear there is no end to these twisting
tunnels. I marvel that my hand still has feeling enough to pen these words, as my feet
have long since gone numb. It won't be much longer before I succumb to the cold as the
others did before me. Yarick kept the journal before me - he clutches half of it still in
his cold hands, the other half lost in our flight.
I write this last page as I cease my search for the egress.
But I must keep moving if I am to stay warm ...
Entry 14
By some black miracle, I found our point of entry. The rope
we used to climb down from the tunnel above was coiled on the floor of the pit, its upper
end showing the mark of a cruel knife. They will not let me leave - knowing the tunnels as
well as they do, they must have cut it days ago.
It is a cruel, maddening fate to be trapped in these caves,
endlessly fleeing the fearsome denizens within; a crueler fate still knowing that I when I
breathe my last here, I shall not return to the sunny common of Arwic, the lifestone I
visited weeks ago. None shall learn our tale without being plunged themselves into the
nightmare. What I saw yestereve...
Do not venture to rouse those who were meant to lay in peace.
Ion Lundgren
Friend and Servant to his greatness,
Sir Joffr e Tr em...
The Expedition of |