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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 284388" data-attributes="member: 2323">Part 1 - Cold ComfortMarglos, the 9th of Rethe, 1269 AEMalak heard the scraping of stone on stone as the door to the shrine ground open. The flames flickered in the twin braziers, playthings to the breeze from outside.His brother had opened the portal, but stood in the doorway as if unwilling to enter. "Come on, brother o' mine," Karak growled. "Yer Queen will understand that ye kinna pray an' dilly-dally all tha day."He muttered something else about the goddess' demands on her faithful, but Malak let it go. He stood and bowed his head to the statue of Shaharizod before turning to his brother."I was just prayin' for a safe journey, brother," he said."Tha mountain pass will soon 'ere be closed an' ye'll be prayin' then I tells ye," Karak retorted. He rested his left hand on one of the throwing axes that he wore tucked into his belt and gestured toward the tunnel that lead, eventually, to the surface. "Now load up. Arngrim says it be time ta move out. He's waitin' at tha gates.""Best nae ta keep our guide waitin', I suppose," Malak conceded. He cast his eyes once more on the familiar little shrine and a feeling of nostalgia filled him."Aye," Karak agreed, thumping his brother on the back with one of his thick hands. "I've nae great desire ta leave tha delve, but it is tha King's will that we deliver his message ta these Grey Lords. I ken nae what tha King's missive be about, but I ken this: it will nae be me what is explainin' ta tha King why we're still 'ere when he wishes us on tha trail."It was humid in the entry tunnel. The hot air from inside the mountain, warmed as it was by the magma flows far beneath Dwurheim's mines, met the cold air from outside and they found themselves walking through billowing mist that concealed the slick stone underfoot.In the courtyard, Orin's Shield was shining down, doing its best to combat the chill wind that was blowing up the mountain from the south. A handful of dwarves in chainmail guarded the massive main gate and peered down from the battlements, seemingly oblivious to the freezing gale. Arngrim was standing beside the gate checking the harness on his pack goat. When he caught sight of the pair, he turned his weather worn face to them and scowled."Well, 'tis about time ye gibberin', porridge-faced rust monsters got yerselves ready," Arngrim growled. He had plaited his white beard into two thick braids and he wore the ends tucked through his girdle. "Saunterers an' foot-draggers end up walkin' on their knees! Either ye're prompt or ye're left behind. Understood?"The brothers nodded and their guide's face softened."Alright then," he said, checking the clasps on the harness one more time. "If'n we're quick, we'll make it ta Felshiem afore tha next snow flies."Dormarglos, the 10th - Luglos, the 14th of Rethe, 1269 AEArngrim's words couldn't have been farther from the truth.It took them three days of marching to reach the wooded valley at the base of Mount Hidskalf. They rested there - gathering deadwood, replenishing their water and enjoying some fresh game. The weather in the valley was quite warm, and steam rose off the tiny lake near its center. It was a bitter shock once they climbed up the trail, which led southeastwards out of the valley, and the temperature began to plummet.For two more days they pressed onward even as the weather worsened. By Luglos afternoon, the sky had darkened ominously and the wind bit at their exposed flesh. The clouds were so heavy and low that they seemed to hang but a few feet above their heads."'Tis unnatural!" Arngrim asserted over and over again as they climbed the mountain pass. "I've nae seen weather like this in 100 years!"They camped that night beneath an overhanging rock that offered them precious little respite from the wind."Tomorrow, mayhap, we'll stay with tha monks o' Light's Ascendance," their guide told them as they huddled around a guttering fire. "Their monastery be but half a day's march further along tha trail, and from tha looks o' these clouds and tha feelin' in me bones we'll be needin' more shelter than a tent or this rock will afford.""We shou' press on," Karak suggested. "Mayhap we cou' outrun tha storm."Arngrim harrumphed and poked at the embers with the metal point of his ice axe."Dressed as ye are? We'll be lucky ta make it as far as tha monastery afore tha snow flies," the guide chuckled, indicating Karak's heavy plate armor. "Nae. I know tha abbot, Alluzin. He may be a 'uman, but 'e's hospitable ta travelers in need. Provided that he ain't out meditatin' in a cave somewhere."Onto the fire Arngrim tossed a few more of the dried branches they had collected in the valley and the flames licked up. Until they got back below the tree line, the meager bundle of sticks would have to hold them over."For now, get what rest ye can," he told them. "Tomorrow promises ta be a rough one." Valarglos, the 15th or Rethe, 1269 AEAt some point during the night, the snow began to fall. Hard.Karak and Malak awoke just before dawn to the chilling sound of a dwarven scream. They got to their feet and grabbed weapons at once, but they could see no sign of Arngrim anywhere. His pack goat was nearby as was his bedroll, but the guide himself was gone.The swirling sheets of snow whipped around them, freezing their breath and painting their beards with frost. It also limited visibility to no more than a few yards in any direction and promised to get worse before it got better.</blockquote>

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