Entering the blue ice walls, there was a small keep in the center of the frozen castle. Inside, however, the main thoroughfare seemed to be heading down under the ground. It was lit with eerie green continual flames, giving a ghoulish cast to everything. The misted vampire was nowhere to be seen, but the lights led the way. Continuing down a corridor, a particular columned hallway suddenly lit up.
“So, we meet again, adventurers…” a dry voice rasped, as specters drew out of the columns. They appeared normal enough, men and women dressed in warm furs, most with the look of adventurers and explorers, but their legs were lost to mist, and they floated smoothly to attack the party. Deep down the hall, a mummy could be seen. A few recognized him to be Arkaban, the sorcerer-mummy originally working with the Emerald Claw in the giant’s temple in Xen’drik. “Marcus may have let you past, but you will die here!”
The specters were slippery, sliding around incorporeally, but the party fought through, cornering the mummy. At that moment, large double doors flew open, seemingly giving way to the female voice crying “Arkaban! Enough!” He groaned in frustration, and began to fly away. Varele, however, took the trusty boomerang given by her family, and smote the sorcerer right in the spine, cracking him in two, and leaving his body to unravel as his spirit flew to its final rest.
Now curious to see this mistress of the castle, and see how she reacted to the dispatching of her servants, the party entered the chamber. Seated inside was a elven woman on a throne. The room was as warm and comfortable as it could be in an underground ice castle: lots of rugs and furs, thick tapestries on walls, though there were archaic touches, and the throne was still mounted by an obsidian skull that stared out. The woman introduced herself as Lady Sindera, the mistress of the castle. She explained she lived here for the privacy it offered, and inquired about the party’s business. They explained they were looking into the changes of the planes, and that an oracle had led them here. She mused on that information, agreeing that she may know some of the problems occurring, but that she needed something first. In trade, she desired an errand: a long-lost and estranged relative of hers was recently heard to be on the continent of Argonnessen. She desired that we would travel there, find her, and return her; the fact that we survived the journey through Frostfell and her servants meant we should have no trouble navigating the continent of dragons.
She offered lodgings for the night, and requested Rin perform some necromantic services since her mummy was recently destroyed. In return, she allowed him to study her vast collection of necromantic magic and rituals, opening up a whole new path to his faith. Varele, on the other hand, caught up with Marcus. They spent some days together, and when the party made their leave, Varele was quite a bit more pale than before, carrying a small keg of blood as a gift.
Before heading straight for Argonnessen, the party decided to make a stop at Sharn and perhaps find a guide from House Tharashk who could help them both navigate the wilds and track down the elf relative, by skill or magic.