Our fellowship awoke from our long slumber, and wasted no time this morning. The shamaness, Bone Carver, helpfully uncovered the hidden hatch in her hut, and hastily we hustled down the slick spiral steps into Arauthator’s frozen lair. Jorad was a little too hasty: he slipped, and took Tegan down with him, all the way to the bottom. When we reached them we could see, in the dim light of oil lamps, that the icy walls of these catacombs were carved with draconic imagery, and the floors were glassy smooth.
Moving southward, we passed a chamber filled with maybe a dozen kobolds: minions to Arauthator, no doubt, busy with their mundane tasks. We paid them little interest, and carried on, to another large, ominous cavern; evidently, Arauthator’s trophy room. A number of defeated monstrosities, and even a full sized longship, were on display here. On the deck of the ship rested a chest, brimming with valuable treasure.
Continuing our explorations, we came to a passage with a deep dark hole in the floor, spanned by a walkway, and overhung with a metal hook. Our party began to traverse the span, but a chunk of ice broke free from the cavern above and fell, knocking Jorad off the bridge and into the hole. The omen was unmistakable: we were being guided by the implacable will of Beshaba, klaatu barada nikto amen!
Gunx gracefully leapt down to make sure Jorad was alright, while the rest of our party secured a rope to the hook and, one by one, climbed down to join them. As we descended into an enormous, mist-filled cavern, we felt the air turn from mildly chilly to uncomfortably cold. We began to fan out and move to the east, as we looked for signs of the dragon. I had reached a dead end to the south, when I heard sounds of fighting coming from the far north end of the chamber. My progress across the slippery cavern floor was painfully slow, and by the time I found my companions, their combat was over, and two sea scrags lay dead at their feet. I fear the Maid of Misfortune’s displeasure at my impotence, so I must endeavour to be more useful in the future.
We began to move westward, toward the sloshing sounds of the sea, when the corridor forked, north and south. We took the northern fork, and had not gone far when suddenly, a stomach churning stench tested the intestinal fortitude of our fellowship. I choked down my bile while Tegan, Tolarin, and Jorad emptied their steaming stomach contents onto the frozen cavern floor, scrambling to escape the stinking cloud. Brick and Gunx charged out of the miasma, their jaws tightly clenched.
About to follow my fellows, I’m suddenly paralyzed by an intense blast of frozen air. A Hellish Rebuke leapt innately from my unmoving hand to the source of the assault: Arauthator.
Then, all was darkness.