The journey from the general’s lair is a bit of a sad one. There is some talk of future vengeance, and a half-hearted inquiry into how they might get the Church to sponsor their vengeance tour, but in the end they turn their magical mounts northward and have a nice slog through the increasingly chilly countryside. Luckily for the crew, they arrive near DaVost near the middle of the summer so the temperatures are cool, but not life-threatening.

Clearly – things get snowy up here – and windy, it would seem. While there are buildings all over the small town, most of the structures’ interiors are excavated and descend dozens of feet into the soil. The town is in a lull, preparing for the fall caravans that will haul away furs, timber and ore.

The party wanders about and heads into the Howlin...

After a nine day stint of observing the fort and surroundings, the group thinks they are ready to have a go at it. Under the cover of darkness, flying party members proceed to approach the fortified manor house. They are fairly certain the fort commander is here with servants, and possibly a cleric. They enter under cover of a silence spell and surprise the lord of the manor while he is carrying a plate of snacks out of the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning. They slay him swiftly, then fan out to kill all the servants – men, women and children – before plundering the easily identifiable goods from the upstairs bedroom and study. No cleric is found, and it is not clear where such a cleric would be housed in any event. That seems odd, but there is no time to waste.

They return to the...

Some light reconnaissance reveals squads of undead roaming around and a whole pack of them atop a high tower, armed with heavy crossbows. Well, the evil clerics see a free supply of cannon fodder and with the appropriate wards and wings, they soon have enslaved about 40 of the skeletal warriors between Bayga and Sniffles. Some taboo investigation leads them to an outbuilding away from the central ruin and there they find stairs that lead down into a frigid – like bone chilling levels of cold – complex.

They poke and pry – spotting a fire and an earth elemental as well as many corridors, doors and a not insignificant number of traps. They double back and begin exploring the doors closest to their entry point...

The band of increasingly eeevil and slightly deranged nouveau riche flit about the city. They have money, but they also have targets upon yon backsides. Although it is unclear who (aside from the church of Lothian, the criminal gangs, the Surgeon and the various cultists, House Vladdam and possibly a lich) might bear a grudge against them, a certain level of paranoia seems appropriate.
Some recollecting and gentle investigating makes it seem like the wilderness of Tehoth might be just the place to get lost for a while.

Passage is obtained and the group sails along, meeting longboats near Phinothae and eventually docking in the elven enclave of Paelinth. Zaal comes into his own as the rest of the group is quietly shunned…except the dwarves, who are actively shunned...

Well, since the silver dragon told them this was their last trip, they decide to poke around and see if they can’t find at least one of the items for which they have been seeking, namely the sword of lies that the church seems to have taken an undue interest in acquiring. They flit, fly and float down from the lofty heights of the spire and take a crack at defeating the iron golem guarding the trapped doors. The golem proves to be a tenacious adversary, shrugging off most everything except Digin’s rage-fueled blows. It does get dicy a time or three, but remote healing provided by the post-pubescent Sniffles keeps the wobbly dwarf alive long enough to fell the creature.
The doors leading to the unexplored space are both trapped and this starts another round of brainstorming, but eventually...