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D&D 5e: Ashligneous

I compose myself and slowly make my way upstairs. "I was not ready for that" I said to myself. When I made it back to the top of the stairs I thought about what had happened here and why everything was the way that it was. "There were other people in the paintings and they were scratched up. I've only seen him though, all of this does not add up.


I thought about returning to the cafe where the young man awaited but the artifact in his study was still causing a commotion. I decided to continue and finish with the task at hand. I made my way upstairs and scanned the area.
 
When you make your way up stairs it is easy to see the path you are meant to take. The floor swept by shuffling feet and a mighty glow coming from the office room. The air is even colder here. The magic coming from the wirling winds of this artifact frosts over the wood that makes up this home.


The temperature of the room is now about 40 degrees. The room is illuminated with blue light so that nothing may hide from your eyes. You see a book laying alone on a table. The only thing near it is a quill and ink. Hasty slings of black across the wood. It has to be some sort of journal or diary, something written by the boy. There may be just as many answers within that book as beyond that door.
 
I shiver while looking at the blue glow shining through the gaps of the door to the study. The air is definitely colder up here seeing a mist with every breath I take.


I walked up the the journal sitting on the table and open it, it's contents a mystery.
 
The journal is filled out for hundreds of pages. The writing starts out sloppy with large letters and spelling mistakes, childs script. The writting gets refined as the pages go on. Some pages are splatter with blood, food and wrinkled with tears.


The story starts to unfold as you read clips from important pages. When this boy was young his family left on vacation. For some reason they left him behind, maybe forgot him here. He was only a child so he struggled to keep himself alive. Finding food, keeping clean, avoiding illness all became problems quickly. Then the robbery happened.


Being one of the richer houses in the area his family's absence was noticed and thieves swooped in like voltures. They attempted to kill the boy and make off with family goods, but the boy outsmarted them. Turning his home into a dungeon of traps and ambushes he managed to kill these intruders.


This victory brought him praise and recognition from the knights in the area. It brought enough attention to his situation that he was fed and cared for. At least for a while. His fame died and his story faded away. When he was forgotten he struggled again. His solution was simple. To recreate his former glory.


The boy describes tempting thieves into his home like a rock spider. More attacks on his home fended off with traps. He became the preditor here. Although he only killed those who dared to rob him. He temped them and lored them so profoundly that it was easy to see something had grown dark in his soul. He gained more please each time.


By the end he was no longer gaining praise from the knighthood for these victories. He drew enough pleasure from the kills that it was all he cared about. Each page ranted about his anger towards the family that abanden him then showed how he took it out on those willing to break into his home...


He looted these thieves and sold their goods for food and water and herbs which he took too much of. His latest plunder was this stone named winters grasp. The final pages describe how the boy planned to going into town and tricking a thief at the coffee shop to steal his magical stone.


It is at this moment you realise a steel wire attached to the book you read. This wire feeds into the wall behind the desk. Its taught and pulling it any further would surely spring a trap. You are in the lair of twisted enemy. Any move from here could mean death.


Where will you go from here? Will you continue into the room with the magic stone beside you or will you backtrack to the door and leave?
 
I took a set back from the journal being careful not to set of the trap. "This house must be full of them, Better watch what I do" I said. I stood in silence thinking about what my next action should be. Continue into the room or confront the young man?


I turned to the door leaking the blue glow and decided that the stone was better off in my hands. I walked up to the door an walked in.
 
When you touch the iron handle it is so cold it sticks to your skin. It is almost cold enough to burn. As soon as you unwedge it from its frosty frame it blows open crashing on the stone wall. The cold winds hurricaning in the office room are not enough to push you back, but they are enough to send a shiver down to your bones. You immediately feel damp and chilly. The stone floats in the center of the room spinning like a top and glowing bright blue. Everything in the room is tinted by this color.


The room looks like a small gentlemen's study. Every wall is a book shelf except for the windows. In front of one of the windows is a wide heavy wood desk. Two books are open on it, their pages flipping back and forth in the winter winds. One book is entitled The Lost Arts of a Dwarven Artificer. The other book is entitled, How to handle runic stones. A few loose parchments and quills fly around the room. You can see that any objects flying too close to the stone are frozen and sometimes shattered. Your knowledge in these matters suggest you defuse the stone before you attempt to approach it.
 

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