19 - 6/24/24 : Clues

"No matter what happens to us here, even if we all die at the hands of the barbarians... it wasn't for nothing. You helped bring the people of the Ten Towns together in the face of the deadliest winter we've ever known. Thank you for that."  

Dahlia Kaltro

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  With their fight against Skath concluded, the party thought about the power vacuum that would be left in his absence, and what the best course of action would be going forward. They eventually settled on taking Soley and visiting the Velryns, whom they had befriended after saving Garret Velryn from certain demise near the Famrial Mountain.   The Velryns and their faithful dog Boy greeted the adventurers warmly and let them inside. After being told of the situation, Garret was saddened that such violence was necessary, but was also glad to hear that Skath would no longer be a problem. He and his husband Keegan agreed to help Mirlake re-establish communication with the nearby Three Streams by trying to drum up an emergency town council. In addition, they also agreed to take Soley in for the time being, and to get her out of town if the barbarians managed to make it far enough down south. In turn, the party assured them that they'd keep an eye out for Speaker Naerth if they were to chance upon him in captivity at the Duergar fortress.   With their business in Mirlake concluded, the Lonesome Few loaded up the stolen magic cauldron of Maud Chiselbone and took it back to Three Streams. Speaker Waylen was overjoyed to see it returned, and was gladdened that Mirlake would no longer be closed off from the rest of the Ten Towns. He assured the party that he would ensure cooperation with the town now that Skath was out of the way.   After staying the night in Three Streams, the party made their way north to visit the dwarven settlement of Duhngrave. They were welcomed back by the guards and allowed entry, and they headed straight for the temple of Brúni-Bári. They arrived just as the priestess Doluma Sunblight was giving a sermon on the joys of revelry, and serving sacred beer to the congregation.   After the sermon, the party spoke with Doluma and asked her about her last name and her relation to King Xardorok Sunblight. Doluma bitterly admitted that the despot was her father, and that she escaped his clutches over a century ago and had not spoken to him since.   Although she was unable to give concrete details regarding Xardorok given how long it had been, she was able to paint a broad picture of his capabilities and motives. Knowing her father, Doluma suspected that Xardorok was cooperating with the barbarians in pursuit of his goal of building an empire for himself in the frozen north, intending to stab his allies in the back once their usefulness was at an end. She also told them of his mastery over the natural duergar abilities of invisibility and shape-changing, and that he was capable of growing to a staggering size.   Lastly, Doluma described the heart of Sunblight fortress; a grand forge that was capable of absorbing planar energies for power, and infusing items created upon it with said energies. Various relics and other magical curiosities had been used to power it in the past, such as the still-beating heart of a red dragon, or the captured soul of a pentadrone. Doluma couldn't be certain what was powering the forge in the current day, but given that Xardorok was creating a weapon out of the magically-absorbent material chardalyn, it would be something to keep an eye out for and learn more about.   Satisfied with what they had learned, the Lonesome Few stayed the night in Duhngrave to prepare for the trek north to seek the lost spire spoken of by the simulacrum of the wizard Dzaan. As they wound down for the night, Alith meditated once again on the Unbroken Circle of Zerthimon, and after reflecting on the recent encounter with her people, she was able to attain an inner peace that allowed her to unlock and meditate upon the sixth circle.  

Upon the Blasted Plains, Zerthimon told Gith there cannot be two skies. In the wake of his words, came war. Upon the Blasted Plains, the People had achieved victory over their illithid masters. They knew freedom.   Yet before the green fires had died from the battlefield, Gith spoke of continuing the war. Many, still filled with the bloodlust in their hearts, agreed with her. She spoke of not merely defeating the illithids, but destroying all illithids across the Planes. After the illithids had been exterminated, they would bring war to all other races they encountered.   In Gith's heart, fires raged. She lived in war, and in war, she knew herself. All that her eyes saw, she wanted to conquer.   Zerthimon spoke the beginnings of that which was against Gith's will. He spoke that the People already knew freedom. Now they should know themselves again and mend the damage that had been done to the People. Behind his words were many other hearts of the People who were weary of the war against the illithid.   Know that Gith's heart was not Zerthimon's heart on this matter. She said that the war would continue. The illithid would be destroyed. Their flesh would be no more. Then the People would claim the False Worlds as their own.   Gith told Zerthimon that they would be under the same sky in this matter. The words were like bared steel.   From Zerthimon came the Pronouncement of Two Skies. In the wake of his words came war.

  The following morning, the Lonesome Few mounted their chocobos and began their journey north, stopping in Whiteridge on the way. They observed the defenses being built to meet the looming barbarian horde, including a surprisingly sturdy looking new stone wall defending the sole ingress into the city. To their surprise, leading the installment of several points of defense was none other than Dahlia Kaltro, who was speaking to the newly arrived Ivory Farrowbane before seeing her old companions.   Dahlia descended the battlements and greeted the Lonesome Few, sharing her relief at seeing them well and her surprise at their rumored exploits. She also apologized to them for the somewhat cold terms they parted on, and thanked them for doing what they could to pull the Ten Towns together. Dahlia felt that if the people of the Snowdrift Flatlands were to die, then at least they would die united.   After giving Dahlia an update on all that had happened, the party turned their gazes north and began on the long journey to the lost spire. After crossing miles of featureless, endless snowy plains, they came across their target. The lost spire seemed to be less like a wizard tower, and more like a crude nail driven into the snow. This was confirmed as they realized on approach that the tower had been somehow flipped upside down, and after entering it through a tunnel in the snow, they stepped onto the ceiling of the topsy-turvy wizard abode.   The party quickly came across evidence of battle, finding a broken shield guardian on the 'ground floor'. They also chanced upon statues of hooded wizards, from which Melfina was able to deduce that the tower was very old, and built in the Old Hyperborean style. Most curious, however, was their discovery of a series of pristinely preserved pages throughout the tower; torn pages of a diary that were cold to the touch, each entry headlined by four lines of song lyrics. The two pages found on the ground floor read as such:  

All our splendor, bathed black in silence,   Our surrender, a somber reverie.   Slowly drifting, down into twilight,   Left to sifting, through faded memories   I can no longer trudge through the snow without a destination. This land holds many secrets, and yet none hold the key to freeing my beloved from her cage. From hence, I shall forge mine own.   On this day I happened across an old wizard tower abandoned in the snow, likely the byproduct of a maverick seeking to act outside of Hollowfaust's sights. Foolish, but auspicious in hindsight. The tower is abandoned and flipped upside down, as if the site of some sort of arcane cataclysm, but it will make do after some alterations.   It is from this tower that I will pour my all into breaking the grasp Levistus has on Minerva. He shall remain in his tomb and shall suffer no others to endure the same fate.   Until that day, my love, I shall continue to write my songs, for hope that you may one day hear them.

 

Know our places, for worth is wordless   Evanescent, this writing on the wall   Brothers, stay this descent to madness   Come and save us. Catch us before we fall   I have righted the tower with a potent dweomer and have set the unseen servants to tending to its less than savory condition. In some centuries time, the dweomer will fade and the tower will revert itself once more, but by that time I intend to be well gone. We shall leave Hollowfaust, Levistus, and all this frozen wasteland behind, and this tower is no exception.   While restoration is carried out, I have investigated what was left in this spire. The previous resident of this tower clearly had an interest in the magic of stasis. I believe his focus was on preserving specimens of planar creatures for study. A dangerous field to be sure.   Once again, a fortunate find. If my efforts to free Minerva from her predicament fail, stasis may be the answer, and the research here may be critical to this end.   Such an answer would be poetic. Surrounded by the stillness of ice, and such a thing being my saving grace. The voice on the frozen wind would surely laugh.

  With these pages shedding some dim light on the tower's history, the party continued on, still seeking traces of the party of Dzaan and Beren Blackhammer. They managed to 'descend' the tower through holes in the floor, finding a third page of the diary on the second floor. This page continued the themes of stasis being studied by the author, hoping to somehow unlock a way to preserve her beloved Minerva from an uncertain fate at the hands of the archdevil, Levistus.  

Like broken angels, wingless, cast from heaven's gates   We only fly when falling, falling far from grace   Our lives a message in a bottle cast to sea   Quick to their ends, our candles burn until we're free   I have lost track of how many turns of the moon have passed since I took residence in this old tower. Wanderers I recall bearing dark hair and smooth faces return with waxen skin and locks the color of fresh snow. I pity those that know neither the longevity of elvenkind nor the restorative properties of magic. What brief flashes their lives must be. They call me "The Winter Witch", as if I have entered the annals of local myth.   I struggle with the previous resident's work on stasis. He was clearly a wizard that thought highly of himself, and so he poured his intellect into pursuits beyond himself. I am left with incomplete ramblings, experiments far too meandering to be of any worth, and broken arcane implements that I cannot be bothered to expend effort to fix.   What's more, I have made little headway in research. Levistus' contracts and deals are labyrinthian, impenetrable, and hidden away by secrecy. He is a paranoid devil, Mephistopheles' equal and second only to Dispater himself. The terms of Minerva's imprisonment elude me no matter the effort I dedicate to communing with the infernal and seeking weaknesses in his court's defenses.   As my despair and frustration grows, I find it hard to fall into a trance each night. My mind wanders and the peculiar phenomenon of sleep has found me. My only solace from restlessness is the penning of my songs. They keep the worst dreams at bay.   On a clear night, I dreamt of a strange creature. It appeared as a large owl, bearing two spiral horns and walking with a bipedal gait. The creature was wreathed in shimmering auroras, its eyes aglow and its greater form shrouded by a blue cloak. As I looked upon it, the creature beckoned to me with talons covered in frost and menacing with icicles, and yet its proffered grasp filled me only with thoughts of safety, even refuge from my struggles.   As time drags on, I can no longer delay the inevitable. Stasis must be the answer. If Minerva cannot be freed, then she must be preserved until the answer presents itself. But how?   I hope to see the owl again soon.

  On the third floor, the party spied a peculiar room across another gap in the floor. This room was coated in a thin and glimmering layer of frost, and was noticeably colder than the rest of the tower; cold enough for even Ragna to feel it. In the center of the room, lying on the floor near an upside-down pedestal, was a small golden ring encrusted in ice. Ragna observed the ring, finding it so shockingly cold to the touch that it caused even them a small jolt of pain, a sensation that the barbarian had never felt from cold before. He passed the ring to Melfina for identification, and Melfina observed the strange ring closely.   The ring was revealed to be none other than the artifact known as Ring of Winter, a powerful relic that afforded one attuned to it total immunity to the cold and control over ice and frost, among other powers. Melfina eagerly attuned to it and experienced the curious sensation of total temperature neutrality, losing any feeling of cold as she was inured to the freezing temperatures.   With this new, powerful asset in store, the party continued exploring the tower, discovering a fourth page of the mysterious diary written by the 'Winter Witch'.  

Rock of ages, we cast the first stone   In our cages, we know not what we do   Indecision here at the crossroads   Recognition, tomorrow's come too soon   Each morning I hear her voice. I can no longer deny the call of the voice on the wind.   If she offers answers then I shall listen. If aught can be done, I will do it. I will sacrifice anything, bleed as much as it takes, if only to savor our faded memories. Even a facsimile of our halcyon days, of tender moments and hushed words, will serve. Anything.   I cannot bear the passing of the ages, of separation by the cruel expanse of time. I wish for it to all stop. I command it to all stop.   I leave this tower now, abandoning it to the winds and the falling snow. I leave behind temporal concerns. I abandon knowledge, material wealth, and even this recording of my thoughts and my will.   I will venture south, to the bounds of the great sea, and seek her word.   I shall open my wings and welcome the cold. There will be stillness, or there will be death.

  On the fourth and final level, the Lonesome Few finally discovered traces of Dzaan's party; namely Dzaan himself, as well as a heavily armored dwarf and an undead warrior wielding a sword, the three of them battling a pair of golems. The battlefield had been frozen in time, but as Melfina stepped into the room with her companions, the Ring of Winter reacted with a magic humming as time began to resume.   The Lonesome Few joined the battle against the golems, helping the injured Dzaan and the armored dwarf to defeat their assailants. Although they put up a ferocious fight, the golems were no match for the combined might of the adventurers, and they fell after a brief but intense clash.   Once battle had slowed, the party identified the armored dwarf as Beren Blackhammer, the missing prince of Duhngrave. With their quarry located, the party took the time to speak with him and Dzaan to ascertain the situation and what they had learned.