Icewind Dale 1: Bryn Shander to Targos

Hammer 1, 1489
Dre'zel my love,

I have reason to be optimistic. Talyth and I recently met a group of adventurers that seem interested in putting an end to the neverending night and might have the competence to do something about it.

Soup Master Steve, a human who provides sustenance to the poor, seems to have a good heart, and his ladle is far more dangerous than it appears. Orion, a mysterious roguish fellow, claims to have no memory of his origin beyond faint recollections of being on a flying ship, shoots red beams from his eyes. Timon, a dragonborn paladin of Umberlee, is a fierce and noble warrior. Saritu, a half-elven archeologist, seems very practical and good natured, and a fine negotiator. Joachim, a human barbarian who goes bu JoJo, is the most talkative creature I’ve ever encountered, but he’s very determined…about almost everything.

We were hired by Torga Icevein to guard his caravan from Bryn Shander to Targos. It seemed a routine job.

We were attacked by goblins on the way and made quick work of them, allowing one to surrender and others to run off. I had planned on hunting them down but fate would not allow (as the DM insisted initiative was over).

Torga’s personal bodyguard, Sephek Kaltro, explained that he was a child of midwinter and as such was unimpaired by the cold. He stayed out of the fight with the goblins except once when he struck one down with a blue bolt he shot from his hand.

Torga mentioned that the goblin’s wagon was of gnomish make. Fizzle, the goblin who surrendered, claimed wagon was made by the goblin Chief Yardnok from Karkolohk.

When we reached Targos, we were greeted by Skath, the tiefling Captain of the Guard. We soon learned that Speaker Naerth Maxildanarr was holding the monthly lottery as it was the full moon. In Targos, the winner is supposedly sacrificed to “Auril” by way of the freezing wilderness without any cold weather gear.

We headed to the Three Flags Sailing where Ma, the soup cook, fed us. There, we learned of a white moose terrorizing Lonelywood. The citizens complained about the lottery, some suggesting corruption with the process.

We watched Naerth facilitate the lottery, and the “winner” was a man named Timber Icetown. Talyth confirmed there was no magic involved in the lottery. My newfound companions expressed some concern when they learned Talyth is a cleric of Auril, but she was able to explain her opposition to the Rime.

While Talyth and I trailed Timber home, hoping to meet him in the wilderness with cold weather gear, the rest of our companions headed to The Luskan Arms.

I will endeavor to do some good in this place.