Well we don’t really look like we’ve had our beauty rest, but I can assure you that we have.  In fact I’m pretty sure we’ve been bedding down only a few hours after waking up.  I can hear the story that’s going to emerge once we get back to an inn.  More specifically I think I hear Fitz:  “Ach, time does nae pass in the realm of the Winter King, laddie….”.  It’s a good story.  Not a grain of truth to it, but it’s more believable.  At any rate, if I ever do figure out how we slept three nights in about a day and a half, I’ll probably just keep it to myself.

Last night as we were all drifting off to sleep something opened the door into the room, or that is they tried to. It harumphed a bit when it found the door blocked by our couch barricade. Next to me I swear Carn mumbled “Occupied!”.  Either I misheard him or mercenaries really do find some odd places to grab their forty winks.  We all woke up quickly but as quietly as we could and listened at the door, weapons at the ready.  Whatever it was clomped away and eventually went through another door far away. After a long silence Beulah heard voices and definitely heard the phrase “yea, they’re in there”. Discomfited and not feeling quite so sneaky, we eventually lay back down and slept.

No nightmares to deal with the following morning. Well except that Marco woke up thinking he was the gnome, which was odd.  He backed away from us and did his best to cast some illusion on Tungsten but thankfully it didn’t do anything.  I think.  The bottles were still just as empty in the morning but in the wall nearby we found a little peephole we hadn’t noticed before.

“Ah, Hole of Glory perhaps.” said Klajdu.   I was about to inquire what exactly he thought this particular phrase meant.  I mean this has to be some more “fake vocabulary” from sources unknown, but Tungsten was all over it.  “Seriously?  it’s only this big!”. Klajdu scowled as he examined the little hole more closely and so, OK, no I think he knew what it meant.  A mystery best left unsolved for sure.

Finding the peephole unsettled us a bit.  Pissed some of us off even. We must have made quite a tableau there the night before, all there listening at the door with our weapons ready.  So we snuck out and followed the left wall around, thinking we’d find the room with the peephole and get to kick someone’s ass, with righteousness and/or vindictiveness as appropriate to the asskicker. No such luck.   The room we found was cold, dark and empty.   A whole suite of rooms actually.  Except that the furniture, the carpets, the hangings, the fancy pens… everything was made of ice.  An entire stately bedroom and dressing room,  all turned to ice some ages past.  And when we found the peephole, nothing. Nobody to kill, behead, torture briefly. It was a letdown.   Around then I remembered suddenly that I should be keeping the ice scepter hidden, so as to avoid those awkward conversational moments where we have to kill people.   So I stuff it into my robe hurriedly and when everyone turns around to see what I’m doing, there’s a pause.   I find I have to clarify.  “No, I am not happy to see anybody.”

So back out of the Winter King’s Ice Age Bachelor Pad and across the way to the only door that has light coming out from under it. Tiptoeing’s a little silly now; Tungsten points out they clearly know we’re here.  He proposes we just knock.  Klajdu offers the only insight worth writing down:  “More trick. Klajdu hate trick. Friend say: come sit, come drink, come eat leg of mutton….”.

Tungsten knocks and after a pause a voice answers, slightly surprised. We’re invited in. Bold as brass, in we go.  Are we sure this is a good idea?  No.  No going back now though.   It’s a big room dominated by 2 forges that glow with an icy blue fire.  Next to one of the forges is a big tiefling who’d been doing the talking.  He’s holding a blade in the fire but he takes it out and turns to us as he talks.  A huge Ogre in the corner on the left is looking bored and picking his teeth as he sizes us up.  Two more of those big skeletons are standing nearby.  Nobody’s excited yet, the skeletons do not burst into flame, so hey this is great we can all be friends.  So far so good.

“My name is Anger and I work for the Winter King”, says the tiefling.

“Oh good, Anger.  I know this word”, I say before I can stop myself. I blunder through the conversation.  Honestly I can’t remember what I was saying but it sounded good at the time.  I very nearly let on that I’m carrying Ice Scepter, but with a kick from Tungsten I manage to backpedal down to something like “We seek an audience with the Winter King.  Ahem.”    Apparently this can be arranged and audiences with the Winter King are freely available.   Klajdu tries to strike up a conversation with the Ogre but it’s a tricky conversation to start. He offers once or twice to perhaps even have a wrestling match with the Ogre.  The ogre continues to pick his teeth. I have a bad feeling that our team may get a chance to take this ogre on, and soon, but I keep my mouth shut.  There’s a vision I can’t shake of my shinbone becoming a giant ogre toothpick. Anyway, there’s fortunately no time to dwell on nasty images.  Anger is leading us off to see the Winter King.

So we walk with a bit of a swagger, back through the corridors we’d been sneaking about.  Doors to the antechamber are thrown open again, and the doors to the Winter King’s throne room.  It’s just as cold, just as icy, just as creepy.  The bridge over the frozen river is still there with the voices warning us to beware the wrath of… yea yea, we got it.

We’re carried along in the momentum.  It’s a nice simple idea — we just fulfill our mission, give the thing back and we go home. We walk up to near the throne and there at the base of the steps we kneel as instructed.  The King is encased in ice about a foot thick but the enchantment was laid so well that he is still able to move around just fine.   He wastes no time beating around the bush and the pesky topic of the Ice Scepter comes up right away.  Out of some scoundrel instinct I try to play it off like we don’t have it on us.  However this didn’t seem like the winning move and the conversation was clearly about to take a pretty dark turn.  “Oh you mean *this* scepter”.   I sneak a glance at the skeletons but no they haven’t burst into flame yet.  We’re all still friends.   So…. we just give this Scepter back, the grip of winter recedes from the Nentir Vale, and we go home, right?    The room is still.  Four chandeliers worth of ice candles flicker.    The Winter King reiterates his interest in regaining his scepter, but doesn’t exactly pick up our enthusiasm about removing the current blizzard conditions from around Fallcrest…  Oh shit.  You know, the talking boat never really did spell out what would happen if we gave the thing back.  All it said was that if we *didn’t* give it back, something even worse would happen.  The Winter King does express one other interest and it takes us off guard; he wants us to join his army.  Yep, that’s right kids, we can be at the vanguard of the Winter King’s army as it expands to put all the lands of the world under his icy grip.  Oh goody.

I try to put some professional distance into the whole thing.  “You know, that’s a nice offer. This is a nice place you got here and I see you’re putting together quite the team, but you know we’re just passing through and we dont want any trouble. In fact if anything we probably cleaned things up a bit. Carn may actually give you an invoice for killing the Otyugh in your kitchen.  He doesn’t usually do pest removal so that was kind of a big deal.”.  Carn picks up the bureacratic angle and points out that we couldn’t accept the new contract without at least looking into the details.  Neither approach seems to have an effect on the King but I try to keep up the momentum. “Why expand your empire into the lowlands?  Why not expand to the south where it’s already cold?  Seems much easier to me.  Why subdue troublesome valers when you can expand up into the mountains?”   This seems to set the king back and there’s a strange cracking sound, as if from the ice that encases him.   The King shakes it off and points out that the other mountains are no more free of hostile forces than the Vale and to the Vale he will go.  Dammit.   Tungsten bravely blusters that we would stop him if he tried that. The king is so taken aback by the half orc’s bluster that he cracks again.  I seize the shift in momentum and say “See, you don’t want us in your army; We’re a little unpredictable!” and the crack in his side widens slightly.

Whatever it is we’re doing, the King doesn’t like it.  “I’ve had enough of this!” he yells and yep, now the skeletons burst into flame. Oh great.  Even better, I’m standing next to the king because of course I just gave him the scepter.  What a great idea that was. Tungsten and Marco run up next to me to take on the King. A few chips of ice fly off from where the blows land but that’s about it. The King shrugs it off, stands up and charges right through us all, knocking down Marco and I.  He keeps on barreling through us, making it halfway across the room and takes a huge swing at Klajdu but it strikes Klajdu’s shoulder guard and does no harm.  Meanwhile on the other side of the action, Fitz is taking on the Ogre and a skeleton throws a fireball at Beulah whose cloak catches a bit of fire at the edges. Beulah and I both are of the same mind and we unleash whatever might push the Ogre into the frozen river or pond or whatever behind him. Beulah’s thundertusk boar strike misses but my curse lands, and I do a little dance because I’ve never actually managed to land this particular curse and it’s a fun one.  The Ogre, in his mind, thinks he’s surrounded by the mocking laughter of nightmares. He staggers back shaken to the core and of course falls backward heavily onto the surface of the frozen pond, which to our great pleasure, shatters. Fitz, seeking an opening in the King’s guard yells out “you storch!”, which makes no sense but gets repeated around the party eventually turning into ‘use torch!’.  Aha!  Not a bad idea but nobody gets around to this because the ice really starts to come off the king with all these blades sinking into him.  Klajdu goes into some kind of barbarian trance and starts bellowing about how the King’s skull needs to be made into a fine cup and chased with gold.  A bit grisly perhaps but most excellent. I add in a bit about how the Ice Scepter would make a great Swizzle Stick.  Then things get blurry.  I think Marco places one of those sneaky winks again because a skeleton suddenly throws a fireball at the Winter King just as he was freezing Fitz in place with a blast of wind and ice.

Then the Beulah and Shazia show is on. I don’t know how she does this but Beulah fires three arrows faster than I could see. Two for the Winter King and one for Ogre, all with her cloak on fire.  Then having stolen the show she gives her cloak a little flourish and snuffs out the fire. It’s a tough act to follow but I land two nasty curses on the Winter King, one of which sets him on fire.  Fitz’s ‘storch’ idea seems to have been a good one because the King doesn’t really seem to like being on fire.  And he likes it even less when a few seconds later one of Tungsten’s axes separates his shoulder from his neck and just like that, we ain’t got no king to kick around anymore.  He goes down and tungsten neatly grabs the scepter and the creepy crown of ice.  We may need that.   At this point, just like the river porters say, it’s all over but the shouting.  Some fireballs are thrown, some warlocks teleport about, some axes gently remind some skeletons that they’re supposed to be dead.   Klajdu was fighting one of the skeletons when he saw Anger turn and bolt for a side door.  He turned back to the skeleton right then and shouted disdainfully in the skeleton’s toothy face “Skeleton of Poop!”, and then raced after Anger instead. That was pretty much it.  The skeleton’s went down and Fitz and Carn amused themselves briefly by kicking their skulls around the room.  When Klajdu came back then we gave a cheer when he told us of catching up to Anger way down in the King’s bedroom and burying a greataxe in the tiefling’s back.

My hand is cramping a bit and I think I’ll have to write the rest down later.