The Frosted Ribbon

The Frosted Ribbon is a luxury resort located on the far northern peninsula of Faebula. The core of the resort is a massive dark wood lodge that perches atop a seaside bluff, surrounded by sheer cliffs on three sides. A steep, snow and ice covered slope descends from the lodge, connecting the peninsula with the mainland. No roads lead up to the lodge, although there is a pulley-operated elevator system set up on one of the cliff faces that is used for traveling to and fro. The Frosted Ribbon is an extremely popular vacation spot amongst the Markesian elite, despite its treacherous location. The grounds around the Frosted Ribbon, include a large, above-ground labyrinth, snow-sport equipment, a reverse snowglobe menagerie, a hot spring, the 'Snowbox' for children, an ice lake, and a bonfire. Inside the resort, an expansive main entrance straddled by downward stairs on either side opens to a large lounge area with myriad tables, sofas, cozy nooks, and fireplaces scattered about in a disorganized manner. A massive window proudly illuminates the lounge from the wall opposite the main entrance. Heading down the stairs near the front door, the structure of the walls gradually transitions from wooden slats to snow pack, then ice blocks punctuated by occasional wooden supports. Although somewhat mine-like, this area of the resort is extremely well kept to ensure the structure remains presentable and sound. These snowhallways, beneath the main lodge structure lead to the many rooms carved from the snow for visitors, the servants, meetings and administrative work. Beautiful carvings and sculptures line the passages and slides continuing deep, deep beneath the snow and warn that any who find themselves wandering these passages are as good as gone forever, doomed to become frozen statues in the ice.
  Many years ago, before laying their claim on the Markesian throne, the House Dable traveled to the Frosted Ribbon, arriving one day before the Solstice to celebrate. It was a frequent vacation spot for the family, who made visits to the snowy oasis every couple of years. The four children of the family enjoyed the freedom they were allowed in the remote location, being able to choose their leisure activities and not requiring supervision due to a great confidence in the security of the resort shared by their parents and many other Markesian nobles. The two young princes had begun a vicious war of icicle swards and snow slings in and amongst the snowglobe menagerie, while the eldest sister lounged atop a snowdrift, pretending to read a book on Snow Elven architecture while sneakily polishing snowballs to lob at her brothers from above. The youngest sister, Squelltress, was in the 'Snowbox' hard at work on the greatest snow fort of all time. Using her recently begged-for enchanted trowel, the princess had managed to tunnel far further than she ever had in the past. She had reached an angled wall of ice under the snow, but after an attempt at chipping it away, found it to be nearly impervious to her efforts. Sensing a natural stopping point in her work for the day, Squelltress decided to leave her trowel against the obstructing ice wall, hoping to return in the morning to a freshly melted hole. The princess was immensely satisfied with herself for the day, and allowed herself the pleasure of tattling on her older sister to her brothers, causing a temporary alliance in the snow war while the brothers united to attack their eldest sibling, The evening passed eventfully; Squelltress visited the hot springs to bathe before joining the other noble families for supper and discourse in the lounge. The princess was a big fan of supper (who isn't) but had no fancy for discourse, especially when the topics of discussion are so frequently limited to agricultural trade agreements and Faunan fearmongering. After she had finished eating, Squelltress quickly scarpered off to the lower levels of the lodge, where she awed at the intricate ice carvings, spending extra time with her favorite piece, a scene of a lone yak in a blizzard, before tucking herself into bed early to be up by dawn. She slept soundly as her family filtered in throughout the night, waking briefly as her father burst through the door, stumbling drunkenly towards his own bed, only to be pulled back out into the faint noises of joviality by his giggling wife. The next morning, Squelltress awoke bright, ready for adventure. She quickly dressed and headed to the lounge for an energizing muffin before bundling and skipping out into the freshly-fallen snow towards her tunnel in the 'Snowbox.' Arriving at the mouth of her tunnel system, Squelltress noticed that the carefully carved steps she had molded to descend the tunnel had loosened in the night, requiring a careful climb down to avoid sliding in uncontrollably. The princess was surprised by this as she had not had to reform the steps so significantly before and she began to wonder whether a deeper part of the tunnels had collapsed. Thinking now of her special trowel, she moved more quickly into the tunnels, worried that it could have gotten buried in the night and would be lost. Although Squelltress had no fear of the darkness or cold, a faint, ghostly wail of wind howling through the tunnels reminded her of the stories other children told of the snow tunnels and the creeping tendrils of panic began to dishevel her psyche. She resolved to just retreive her trowel today and maybe she would do more digging tomorrow. As Squelltress neared the end of her tunnel, her panic grew. This was not the same tunnel where she had left her trowel. The floor was slanted downward and her trowel, which had been firmly planted in the wall, was nowhere to be found. There was, however, a deep hole at the very end of the tunnel, leading the young princess to the conclusion that perhaps her trowel had melted its way out of the wall and created this hole in the ground. Squelltress, panic rising further, feeling the shame of having lost a treasured present and not wanting to disappoint, steeled herself for a descent into this hole. She reasoned that as long as she had the trowel, she could dig stairs into the wall to climb back up, as she had done before. Using both arms to dangle over the lip of the hold feet first, she strained her toes to touch the bottom, but could not feel it. She prepared herself for what she knew must be a brief slide down the trowel hole before releasing her arms. She slid down the hole, accelerating quickly , and in only a moment, Squelltress knew that this tunnel was not created by her trowel. The snow at the mouth of the tunnel quickly turned to crusty ice, followed by the glassy, dark blue of ancient permafrost. The slope remained nearly vertical for about 15 seconds before gently decreasing in pitch and leveling out. Stunned and afraid, the princess began to explore the deep ice cave she found herself in. This was a 15' radius circular room with rounded edges to the floor and ceiling. She was currently sitting in a 5' radius circular hollow in the center of the room. Her trowel lay a few yards from her in a small puddle of water. Tunnels of various sizes branch off from the main room and quickly twist away, revealing little other than the general direction of their destination,