The Runelords will Rise

A stroll up a mountain

This trip to the Kodar Mountains actually hasn’t been that bad. I say that now but that could be our undoing. We were flying over the landscape that was beautiful and pristine. Other than being very cold, it really wasn’t a bad trip. There wasn’t any trouble, we literally just floated along the breeze until we got where we were going.

When people say they are out in the middle of nowhere, they are usually exaggerating, but it is safe to say we were out in the middle of nowhere. The nearest civilization was a slave camp run by an ancient dragon. Yeah, we are out in the middle of nowhere. To say that I loved it, would be an understatement. I could hear my companions grumbling. While they would prefer to be in warm stuffy libraries, or next to a hot forge, or in a town house brokering deals; I prefer being out in the middle of nature and leaving nothing, not even foot prints behind. We must be wary out here, as much as my nature spells would make our trek easier, they would also alert other ‘things’ to our presence. This place is not kind to those who live here. I was told that storm giants, rocs, and dragons live up here. Toby said he heard tales of ‘Sphincter breaking Ogres’ but I called bullshit on that one; still, no sense calling trouble to ourselves if we can help it.

It was slow going with my friends. It wasn’t their fault; they weren’t made to track through all this snow, ice, and rocks, while I simply dance across it. The slowness for their movement allowed me time to hunt, and forage. Hunting was good for the most part on a good day I might land an elk, which could feed us for three days. On a bad day, I could land us a mountain goat, or several fish, which is fine by me. Toby asked me why I ate meat since I worshiped nature, and animals. I simply told him that is the way of things. I preferred to eat wild caught game over farm raised. At least wild caught was properly hunted, and not just waiting around to be killed. When I am done with my fill I will leave a carcass for scavengers to eat, and when they are done it will feed the bugs. I just take only what I need, and nothing more. At night Lexie casts a secure shelter spell. Each of us has a bunk to sleep in, and the furnishings are sparse, but I like it that way. Everything from it comes from the nature around it.

Our journey began to get interesting when we began walking up the frozen Kazaron River. It was dangerous at times but we were able to avoid too many dangers. As I looked ahead I saw something odd. To be honest I wasn’t sure I was seeing what I was seeing, so I checked with Morph. He saw it too. As if part of the side of the mountain, covered in lichen and moss, stood a cabin perched on a 60 foot cliff. It looked like the place we were trying to find. Actually we are looking for Xin-Shalast but at least we found the Vekker brother’s base camp. Hopefully we can find out why their expedition failed, and maybe use this building as a base ourselves to hunt for Xin-Shalast.

As we approached I saw a great tree next to where there was debris from mining. Stupid Janderhoff dwarves and their destructive ways! I don’t mind them digging into the earth, but for Desna’s sake do they have to poison the land around their mines! As I examined the tree more, I found that it was a long dead treant. Poor thing, the toxic drainage from the mines outtakes must have killed it. Treants are humanoid trees, and are the guardians of the forest and speak for the trees. To see one dead… is tragic. They are shepherds of the forest, and care little for ‘short lived creatures’ they live to protect their flocks. There are tales of what these tree shepards have done to loggers who had the misfortune to choose the wrong grove to cut down. If you think the wrath of a humanoid druid is bad when you hurt our grove, you have seen nothing when you run into a treant one. I send this lost soul on his way with the prayer that his death feed the next generation of life in his grove. Sadly we must press on, and the others are heading into the dwarven base camp. The sight of death at the place’s front door leaves me with a chill up my spine which has nothing to do with the cold winds blowing through the valley.



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