Always Keep A Door Up Your Sleeve!

In the late afternoon of leaving the surmised lair of the chimeras, we arrived at a fortified building, surrounded by a thick wall of massive stone blocks. A sign above the entrance denominated this as the Frosty Tankard, an apt name given that the land in these parts would be covered in a thick white blanket at almost all times. As we dismounted and left the animals in an adjacent stable, we once again were rather grateful that we are still in the last stretches of summer.
The sound of several conversations spilled through the door as we entered the tavern. A quick glance through the room showed several groups of travellers, enjoying drinks served by a human bartender in probably his late fourties. Red and yellow flames danced over crackling wood in a fireplace on the far wall of the room, illuminating the white-furred head of what Grum later explained was a yeti. Two of the groups present reminded us of the folk we had met in Miner’s Exchange in Phandalin and thus were likely prospectors looking for or after mines in the area or passing through between Mirabar and Luskan. Grum guided us to the third group however, after spotting a sigil of a dark-red, double-bladed axe with a pointed hilt that he identified as the insignia of his home city. On our way, he had already told us that there was almost no crime in Mirabar, mostly due to the activity of a group known as the Shadow District that acted as an executive force of the local law and spies to keep the peace. As we were walking over, he mumbled that they might be part of that particular organisation or perhaps belonged to one of the trading posts. Grum greeted the five with the words “The Stone greets you”, what I can only assume to be the local way of introducing oneself to strangers. A dwarf in their group raised his metal tankard and repeated the phrase, introducing himself as Adrik Stonehammer. While the innkeeper, Bert, saw to our drinks, Nysqwen wondered aloud if there was a local speciality to which he smirked and said he would return with a round of frosty tankards, Adrik explained that he and his compatriots were an adventuring troupe that currently came from Mirabar where they were bestowed with the task of eliminating a group of yetis that had been spotted in the area. Teynos’s remark that yetis were known to be solidary creatures, he waved away and laughingly explained that they lived in smaller groups of families or tribes in the lower mountainous spurs of the Spine of the World.
We pulled over another table and exchanged stories from our respective adventures. When I was mentioning our stint in Phandalin, they perked up, Adrik saying that he had heard of the Stoneseeker brothers who were rumoured to have found the lost Wave Echo Cave with the help of a group of nameless adventurers. I could not help myself but had to give a frosty-tankard-fuelled rendition of the Ballad of the Mine that told of our imprisonment of the Black Spider.
We talked, laughed and cursed this way until late into the night, the other groups had long left to their respective rooms, when eventually Adrik suggested a little friendly competition. With a grin at Nysqwen and Teynos and a wave to two of his human companions he proposed a little arm-wrestling contest. Grum immediately bet a gold piece on the dragonborn who was visibly happy to leave some of the talking to her impressive biceps. Accompanied by a jaunty little tune, she and the first human settled down at the table. At first it looked like her hand got pushed worryingly close to the table, but with another swig of ale and some encouraging words she fought back and after a tense fight slammed her opponent onto the wooden slab. His place was swiftly taken by a dwarf and for the longest time it seemed he and Nysqwen were an even match. Grum and Adrik doubled their bets but after a long struggle and many spilled drops of sweat at least on the dwarf, Nysqwen once more came out victorious.
Grum himself gave it a go against the spokesman of our newfound friends but was no match for the definitely more muscular dwarf. Finally, Teynos squared off against Adrik. I am not quite sure what happened, I merely saw Adrik freeze for a beat as Teynos slammed him onto the table seemingly without much of a fight. With a nervous chuckle the dwarf admitted his defeat but threw a weary glance at the half-orc.
After another round of drinks, they proposed a different kind of competition. Their current contract had been issued by Gruga Foehammer, the commander of the Axe of Mirabar which seemed to be its standing army. Yetis had been sighted not too far into the northward mountains from this inn and the quicker this was done the better for everyone involved. It seemed, that Mirabar experienced a problem of an increase in frequency of attacks on their mines in recent weeks. Thus, they proposed making a race out of whoever would first manage to take care of the furry problem, winner would claim the reward offered by the city. They told us we were welcome to sleep a night on the offer and soon after excused themselves towards their rooms, chanting dwarven drinking songs on their way. We all were rather inclined to agree to this deal, as we had little to lose should they manage to beat us to the yetis but also considered it to be for the better to get some rest first. Bert provided us with three rooms and agreed to wake us for breakfast the next morning.
 
After a restful night in proper beds, we all gathered back in the tavern early on the following day. Whilst Kyla and Nysqwen stuck with some milk, the rest of us would not let the opportunity slip to have another one of these frosty tankards. Over breakfast, Nysqwen wondered if yetis were as dangerous as they were made out to be to us last night, or if there was a way to settle this without slaughtering the cryophilic creatures. Grum answered that they were the bogeymen of childrens’ good night stories in many places this far north. He described them as ruthless predators that definitely could pose a serious threat when in numbers. We figured that doing this job also might bring us to a good standing with Mirabar, if we wanted to act to improve the relations with Neverwinter to work together against whatever was going on along the Sword Coast at the moment. We told Bert that we agreed to the competition we had discussed last night and with a nod he handed us the letter that was left by the other group that contained details on the contract. He also informed us that the others had already left a while ago and therefore had gotten a good head start. Cursing, we quickly gathered our things to set out. Apart from finally learning that the reward was a round thousand gold pieces, the letter also contained a description of the location of the yeti-sightings and how to reach it from the Frosty Tankard.
We thanked Bert, gathered our mounts and soon after found us diverting on to a small path that meandered into the foothills around the inn. A little later, we came upon the clearing that was described in the note from the Axe of Mirabar. By now, the slopes around us were starting to grow steeper and most of the trees around us now were evergreens. We dismounted and scanned the area for any signs of tracks that might give away any information on our pray. Indeed, we found several of the lumberjacks that appeared to have left in a tremendous hurry. One of the trees still had an axe embedded in its trunk, only half yanked out. There also were clear traces of a group of five individuals that left the clearing in a north-easterly direction. Following the latter, our pace slowed noticeably with the incline. On the way, we were discussing possible tactics, from head-on confrontations (Nysqwen’s definite favourite) over trying to communicate with the yetis to potentially setting a trap. But we all had to admit that we knew very little about what we were getting ourselves into and would have to play it by ear depending on what we would find higher up in the mountains.
Before long, we came to the foot of a sheer wall. Judging by Grum’s knowledge of the preferred habitat of the yetis being higher up in the snowy regions of the mountains, we decided that in order to hopefully catch up some on our competitors, rather than trying and finding a safer but longer way around this obstacle, we would try and scale the wall head on. Grum offered to use his giant spider form to carry up a length of rope to allow us to ascend the wall in sections. From our position, it was hard to tell how high the cliff might be in total, we barely could make out shallow ledges that might be usable as steps in this mad idea. It took us the better part of the remaining afternoon, but tired, exhausted and slightly shaken from multiple instances of rock crumbling under feet and falling significant lengths, we all reached the top. Now, almost a thousand feet higher, we were rewarded with perhaps one of the most beautiful sceneries that I have been privy to yet. Around us, snow was beginning to cover the brown and grey rock, glimmering softly in the setting sun. Over the edge, we could look out over rolling forests, the dark band of the Mirar cutting through the land and the majestic Neverwinter Woods behind that. On eyelevel now with many of the birds of the lower land, I must have audibly gasp as I gazed out towards the west and beheld the sheer endless expanse of the sea. Nysqwen next to me appeared to be just as enchanted by the view as I was and I could see the deep longing in her eyes, as she took in the ocean. It was surprisingly quiet all around us now, the snow seemed to swallow many sounds. Only the wind seemed to never fully seize blowing in these heights. We agreed that with night coming upon us, we would hardly find anything useful anymore and hunkered together in the little protective hut granted by the song I wove around us. Instantly it grew warmer as well and Teynos, who so far had refused to put on any sort of coat stopped shivering miserably. Soon after, we all bedded down for our first night in the mountains.
 
After breaking camp the next morning, we walked up to the edge of the snow fields but were unable to find any hints of the group around Adrik having been here recently. Grum pulled out something small from his pouch and muttered something intelligible. He explained that should any yetis be within a certain distance to us for the next little while, he would know and would be able to warn us. Thus prepared, we began our track through the valley between two majestic mountain peaks.
The sun had just risen fully as the sky grew darker. A gentle snowfall set in that however soon grew in intensity, impairing our vision rather heavily. At this point, everything around us was just white, only broken by the occasional bit of rock shining through under a ridge, it became harder and harder to make out significant shapes. Eventually, we came upon a broad ravine, the sheer cliff vanishing into darkness beyond sight. Lacking in any other sort of guide, we chose to follow along its drop.
As time went on, the snow became deeper, much more challenging to traverse and despite the freezing wind and still falling snow, I began to sweat under my coat. Teynos, who still refused to put on any more clothing than his loin cloth, had now a hue that leaned more into a sickly blue rather than his healthy green but every attempt in persuading him to relent from this madness fell upon deaf ears. Grum lead us steadily onwards, though in the still increasing snowfall, his short statue visibly struggled to keep up a moderate pace. At least he seemed to have no issue with the temperature.
Over the whistling wind I suddenly heard a decidedly more animalistic howling. Not like a wolf, this was deeper and more ragged. It seemed to come closer towards us before just as quick as it started it abruptly cut off. Nervously we moved slightly away from the gorge, and I turned myself invisible to keep some semblance of advantage over the approaching creature. I had not gotten five paces away from the group, as a hulking, white-furred monstrosity emerged from the snow, leaping into our midst in the same moment as a smaller shadow appeared from behind us. The first one, while definitely showing the same facial features as the trophy we had seen in the Frosty Tankard was almost twice the size of what we were expecting when being told about the yetis whilst the other more closely matched what we had seen.
Teynos opened with a leap towards the smaller yeti and covered him in a frenzy of blows and punches. The larger abomination opened its huge maw from which a stream of ice-cold mist emerged that put the general weather around us to shame, Grum, Nysqwen and Kyla were harrowed heavily by this icy breath, but Grum quickly shifted shape into that of a gigantic elk that now matched the size of our larger foe. Nysqwen closed in on the large one, her glaive drawing long cuts that tainted part of his white fur in a blue-blackish liquid. Between a crossbow bolt from myself and further blows from Teynos, the smaller monster perished after being unable to hit the quickly dodging half-orc who immediately ran towards the huge yeti, albeit hampered by the thick snow. Much to our chagrin, the death cry was answered from somewhere in the snowstorm by a long howl. The remaining yeti seemed to stare intently at Kyla who consequently froze mid-movement and appeared to be unable to move. From beyond the white curtain, another smaller yeti appeared right next to me, and I felt long, ragged claws tearing through skin and flesh as I was battered by two paw strikes. It also looked at me the way the larger had at Kyla and I could feel a freezing feeling starting to extend through my body. For once, my nine-times damned heritage proved useful, as drawing on the deep buried burning rage I fought down the numbing sensation and turned to run towards the larger problem, not before another strike tore through my back. In desperation, I pulled the lyra free, focussing as much arcane force as I knew how to, to let its evolving melody and my voice carry over the wind. The giant yeti’s head jerked around to me just as I finished my melody. Then it shrank. Within a heartbeat, all that was left in place of the creature was a rather cute little snow bunny, albeit one with spots of dark blue blood all over its fur. And as far as bunnies go, it looked rather dumfounded. Nysqwen scudded over, grabbed the animal and with a valiant throw sent it over the edge of the gorge.
Grum and Teynos used the release of pressure to run towards the newly arrived yeti and covered it in an array of attacks. Another smaller yeti emerged from the ravine, claws lashing out wildly at Nysqwen. She retaliated in kind, joined by Grum as Teynos took out the one that had battered me earlier. Wanting to end this quickly, I increased the tempo of the song I was preparing and spurred Nysqwen to new speeds. But before the giant elk could reach, under a gaze similar as the one that still froze Kyla in place, he too fell into a motionless rigour. I reached Kyla, trying my best to physically or verbally reach to her but nothing seemed to be able to shake off the paralysis she was under. Nysqwen’s glaive tore through the jaw and into the brain of the last standing yeti. She kicked him off her weapon, the lifeless body tumbling over the edge. The dragonborn peered out to see any sign of the by now certainly not-so-much-snow bunny whilst Teynos and I tried to wake our two companions. Grum shook out of his stupor quickly, but Kyla would not budge, no matter what we tried.
With a loud roar, the huge yeti suddenly stepped over the edge again, blue blood now covering most of his fur, one horn broken half way down its length and immediately, elk-Grum froze once again where he was standing. Under heavy strikes, Nysqwen was beaten to the ground despite my best efforts to divert the blows. Like a miracle, a soft, pale green glow emerged from the raven pendant Kyla had made for her that she carried around her neck and life returned to her body. Uttering a string of infernal whispers, I sent the hulking beast back down the cliff, Nysqwen swinging her glaive in its wake. As she jumped to her feet and ran to the edge she cried out in rage as she failed to make it out in the heavily falling snow. Teynos ran to her aid, only to be paralysed in his tracks as the huge head of the monster once again emerged, his swings this time thankfully failing to fell Nysqwen yet again. The dance of him running under my infernal curses repeated once more and Kyla and Teynos finally managed to shake off their rigour. A plume of the same cold breath we had seen before poured over the edge. Nysqwen hit the ground, only to be picked up in a mangled claw. Nonchalantly, the yeti flung her over the edge. Something cut through the howling wind and it took me a moment to understand that Kyla and I had cried in unison as we saw our fallen friend vanish into nothingness. I felt the haste I had bestowed upon her fizzle out. Almost without noticing I ran towards the edge. Not again. Not now. Not Nysqwen.
In the span of a few steps but what felt like hours, images raced through my head of sitting together, laughing over several drinks in the warm light of a fireplace in a tavern. Our brief stay in the bath in Neverwinter, where all pain seemed so far gone. Our fight against Venomfang, Nysqwen fearlessly standing in the frontline, protecting the rest of us. Our more recent musings over letters she wanted to send back to Amber.
As I peered over the cliff I could see nothing beyond a couple of dozen feet. No ground or ledges that might have stopped her fall. There was no telling how deep that damned canyon was to begin with. At the edge of my perception, I heard Teynos shout first his and then Nysqwen’s name and turned my head just in time to see him slaying the gigantic yeti. My thoughts raced, searching frantically for anything we could do. Kyla ran up to me shouting something of us having less than a minute left if we wanted any chance to save Nysqwen. Save her? But I knew I felt her life slip away! Still, Kyla had never let us down. Was there a chance? As she reached me, I felt a wave of warmth wash over me and felt some of the pain that made thinking incredibly difficult vanish. I reached one hand out to hers, seeking her eyes for any confirmation of hope. As she answered my gaze, I pulled out a piece of parchment, I had been given not but two weeks before by Nissa. Hastily I read out the small poem on the scroll to open the promised dimensional door. Then Kyla and I were freefalling, one hundred feet down the crevasse with all my hope being that it would not be much more until the end of the precipice. The last thing I heard was the breaking of bones as my skull crushed on a piece of rock. And then nothingness.
Except pain of course. Utter, blinding pain. It felt like white glowing needles were pushed into every inch of my flesh whilst someone had replaced my bones with branding irons. Nothing made sense anymore. All I could think was when this agony would end. I tried to open my eyes. Faces flashed before me, showing the same expression of disdain and contempt as when I saw them during a fight in a certain ritual chamber against a rather infernal rat. Grum. Camp. Nal. Anataea. Chant. Nysqwen. Nysqwen… A voice filled my head, coming from seemingly nowhere. The harsh infernal pierced through the pain. “FULFILL YOUR PURPOSE”. Then a second voice rung through. Far softer, slightly shaking. Calling my name. A familiar voice. The pain subsided as the voice called again. I opened my eyes, seeing Kyla’s face hovering over me, a concerned look in her features that turned into a soft smile. Barely, I managed to fight back an inexplicable rage that suddenly roared loud in me. To my whispered question what happened to Nysqwen she replied that she was alive again. She had returned and would live to fight another day. Suddenly extremely tired but with a huge weight lifted from my chest, my head sank back into the snow with an audible sigh.
Grum stepped over to us, a beaten but still smiling Nysqwen in tow. They explained that whilst I was out, Kyla had managed the miracle of actually bringing her back from death. The cleric said, apparently the Matron of Ravens had agreed that Nysqwen’s story was not yet fully written. Somehow, in all that Grum apparently had descended from the cliff above on some sort of vines that he had summoned from the surrounding rock. Teynos now was alone at the top. Well, nothing bad ever had come from leaving him all to himself.
 
[To be continued when there is a break in the story that actually allows Morthos to write all this down]
[Continuation:]
Teynos’s shout however was quickly followed by a low rumbling sound echoing from the slopes above our group. Grum immediately warned us that avalanches were common in these parts, easily triggered and often deadly. As quick as our mangled bodies would allow, we hurried through the ravine upslope. Much to our relief we found a shallow cave in the rock wall to our left that we ducked into just in time to avoid being buried under several hundred feet of snow and rock. Nysqwen and Kyla managed to block the small opening with Kyla’s shield, thus allowing us to wait out the anger of the mountain.
When the deafening sounds of falling and splintering rock, grating snow and splintering ice finally faded, we found ourselves in almost perfect darkness, acutely aware of the minute space around us and the lack of fresh air should we stay any length of time. Therefore, we immediately began digging with any strength we still could muster, led by our dwarven friend who shifted into the pelt of a giant badger. I can not recall how long it must have taken to make our way to the surface. My arms appeared to be ending in numb stumps by the end of it, all feeling had left my hands. But as I looked down, thick traces of half frozen, half liquid blood covered them, cut open in dozens of places from shards of ice or rocks in the snow we had moved trough. Looking around, there was not a single sign of life for as far as any of us could see. We noticed however a roughly triangular depression in the white landscape that looked too stark to not have been newly created.
As we approached, we heard the muffled sounds of voices and with renewed speed we covered the last few paces, where we looked down into the recess. A large slate of rock had kept the encroaching snow at bay and prevented the area from being buried. In this spot, a truly bizarre picture presented itself to us. Adrik and the rest of his group were standing around the body of one of the dead yetis which appeared to be cut open and half gutted. From inside this grim vista, only the head and hands of Teynos emerged, conversing with the other bounty hunters. He did not seem to mind the horrendous smells that surrounded the corpse of the white-furred creature, nor the dark, almost blue blood that thickly coated his skin.
All notions of relief from the fact that everyone against all odds was still alive quickly were mixed with a certain degree of anger, especially on Kyla’s and then quickly Adrik’s side towards the half-orc upon proclaiming that more likely than not the sudden avalanche took root from the rather reckless loud shouting of the monk. In his defence though, the noise of the battle just before and the thundering roaring especially of the huge monstrosity might already have done their part, before he was calling out. As rapid as it came, the frustration gave way to more exuberant banter. In the end, we all were simply glad to have emerged from this entire adventure alive – well, alive again in Nysqwen’s case.
The rivalling party gave themselves seriously impressed, for one by our reckless gamble of scaling the sheer mountain to gain time on them but also our victory in slaying foes we had little to no idea about. Adrik had himself never seen s monstrous yeti the likes of which we were describing but admitted that there had been stories of these hellish creatures. His choice of words immediately brought beads of sweat to my forehead despite the freezing wind around us. They all congratulated us again and without any complaints or haggling conceded the bounty as per our prior agreement, telling us to inform commander Gruga Foehammer of our exploits. Their group, he continued, would have to head further to Luskan to sort some business in the Mirabar Shield district. Still, before splitting our paths we used the remaining day to travel to the edge of the snowy plateau and continue from there in the morning. Much like ourselves, they sought shelter in a sphere not unlike the one I knew how to weave and thus in our two little huts we are now settling down for the night.
With everything that has transpired over these last few hours, I am amazed that not only we all are still here but the only thing of mine that seems to have taken any damage (apart from my body of course) is my panflute that must have been buried beneath me when Kyla and myself jumpfell from the cliff. The wooden pipes are all either splintered or cracked beyond repair. Vivis gave that to me. Unbeknownst to both of us, in the last moment I ever saw her since she disappeared. I had promised Anataea to hold an eye out for any clues as to what might be going on and it shames me to say how little thought has gone to that over the last weeks. There just always seemed to be something else on! I will need to see if this Fox in Mirabar knows anything, the sources in Neverwinter did all seem to be obnoxiously oblivious. And if I ever see Vivis and the others again, I shall be the one to bestow a gift upon her. Perhaps there is something to be done with one of these yeti horns we brought with us…