The Cruelty of Nature and the Kindness of Strangers

Honorable Priestess of Melora,

We entered the portal at Samhain, only to find ourselves exiting into a blizzard. We did not know where we were. The sky was dark, and the plains were covered with snow in all directions. We could see no further than our companions before us.

Tiny, our cleric, performed some strange ritual to summon the Hand of Fate. The glowing blue hand appeared before us, and Tiny consulted it for advice. The Hand determined that we should forge our way West, and we followed. (Ryn, the Warlock, suggested that we consult the Hand in a gambling den. It is an interesting idea that could make us much gold and perhaps afford the Hippogriff mount that the Dragonborn always talks about.)

We forged our way West through the snow but found no signs of shelter along the way. We saw a forest but no place to rest there. As we moved further west, the ice below our feet grew thin. Firinne, Tiny, and Ryn fell through, and I -- dexterous and agile Aelar -- managed to slip and completely fall on my face. Fortunately, the water below the ice was quite shallow, and we just ended up getting wet.

When I was growing up in the forests, I learned to love and understand nature -- the trees, the wildlife, the cycle of the seasons. But here in the blizzard, nature seemed completely foreign to me. Nothing living could survive this harsh cold. The sun never made an appearance in the dark, foreboding skies. What could grow in this world? And what could endure the cold, icy water that now soaked through my clothes after I fell flailing through the ice? (How embarrassing.)

Our party decided to head North in the hopes of finding some shelter. But we had seen nothing, and the cold wind was starting to take its toll on us. We could not last another day in this weather.

Then, in the distance, we saw some smoke rising to the sky, as though someone had like a fire ahead of us. As we grew closer, we saw a group around a fire, one of whom moved to approach us.

He was a Half-Orc, slinging a heavy crossbow and carrying a lance at his side. He wore a thick hide and his face was smeared with animal fat (a common way to protect oneself from the cold).

"Come, come warm yourselves by the fire!"

Tiny, with his wise insight, did not detect any hostile intentions in this Half-Orc, so we accepted his invitation and joined him by the fire. They offered us a warm meal of meat stew, and they gave us some hides and pelts to keep us protected from the cold.

There were 5 of them in this group. The leader, who had welcomed us here, was named Drager Skinner. The group included a couple (Alec and Bonta Flint), a child, and another Half-Orc. They were all armed with heavy crossbows and lances -- even the child!

The Half-Orcs made their living as hunters and trappers. They collected the skins of mammoth and polar bears and traded them with the other Half-Orcs back at the lodge.

Bran, the Rogue, was most interested in the wolf that they had tied up. This animal was a riding wolf that had been tamed from birth. (Perhaps, like the Dragonborn, Bran is also seeking a mount of his own.)

We spoke a bit with Drager about where we were and discovered to our surprise that we were in the Arctic, far north. He was waiting for us here because his father, Mades Skinner, was expecting us.

"My father Mades knows a lot of things," Drager mentioned. But he could not explain any further how his father would expect us to appear here. Is it possible that our futures have already been determined? We must meet this seer, Mades, to learn more.

Mades and the other Half-Orcs live in a lodge 60 miles to the Northwest (through the tundra). The Half-Orcs had settled there for at least three generations.

Dragen offered to take us to meet Mades at the Lodge, once we had rested and regained our strength. Dragen also told us that from the Lodge, we could get to Kenner.

Our party accepted his offer and, now, having recovered from the cold (and the wet, icy water that seeped through my clothes), we make our way to the Lodge...

I will write again when we arrive there.

As always, your faithful servant,

Aelar