Location: Bren is about 20 feet nearer the Dungeons of Castle Anguish.
Time/Date: Unknown. Last you knew it was mid-afternoon, Monday, 22nd September in the year 1118. Maybe now it's Tuesday?
Weather: Still snowy with that strange cursed-evil-Loviatar-brand-of-Pohjolan-snow. Stay inside because it sure is not getting any better out there. =)
Time/Date: Unknown. Last you knew it was mid-afternoon, Monday, 22nd September in the year 1118. Maybe now it's Tuesday?
Weather: Still snowy with that strange cursed-evil-Loviatar-brand-of-Pohjolan-snow. Stay inside because it sure is not getting any better out there. =)
![Captain Hesperus](/data/avatars/s/7/7178.jpg?1660585062)
"Too Late - Frozen" by Type O Negative
As your party retreated to the tunnels from whence they came, the secret door in the wall squeaked and rustled. As it slowly swung open, a large man appeared with hair like hoarfrost atop a thick frame of steely muscles. He appeared at once a man yet not a man at all. Striding forward, a chill wind seemed to accompany him spreading across the bones at his feet. Despite the cold, he wore little upon his broad chest and massive arms. Over one shoulder, he carried a black great-axe, a bloodstained gruesome weapon, in one scarred fist while the other pointed at the proprietor. In a deep, angry-sounding bellow that carried through the cavern, he declared with frosty breath, "Loviatar's patience with you thins, Master Varelys. If it breaks, you break with it."
The servants shuddered and cowered without a word, but Barathus Varelys, spectral though he was, stood as firm as he could between the tormentor and his young staff. Yet the merchant took an involuntary step back as the tormentor closed upon him. His reason to fear became clear. The tormentor was a head taller than Brendoran in human form and possessed a stare that seemed to chill all that it beheld. It was as if winter walked with him.
The tormentor opened his free hand toward Master Varelys. "Well?"
In reply, the proprietor shook his head and gestured toward the empty air before his tables. "No customers again? Then perhaps it is time we change the pace of things. One way or another, you will pay tribute to the Maiden of Pain." He glanced upwards. "If you cannot provide coin from your tables, then perhaps it is time to send some of you in... to the Dungeons! Surely you can return with something of value from the depths of Castle Anguish?"
Now Varelys shook with fear as the tormentor passed his gaze across his servants. "Any volunteers?"
The Wayward Wanderers watched this scene from about 40 feet away from the bend in the tunnel they had come through. You could whisper between yourselves, but any sound louder than that would likely carry to the tormentor's ears.
What do the Wayward Wanderers do?