The Tales of the Fellowship of the White Cloaks

“Are we far enough away to carry out your plan, Rhogar?” Krom asks the dragonborn as soon as the group reaches the Caves of Hunger.
The dwarf scratches thoughtfully at his beard while taking a brief moment to rest, casting one last glance toward the path leading back to the ruined city.

(OOC: Gonna assume we also make it back to the Dryad's grove, or are least

The dragonborn's answer is perhaps not as forthcoming as anyone might hope. But around about the time the group are just about to enter the Dryad's grove, he finally lets out a defeated sigh. "Only one way to find out. I will try to reinforce the cave ceiling with a bit of magic before I begin. But be ready to shield yourselves, or... run. Really... really fast." With a nervous chuckle, Rhogar once again brandished Iroirlathas staff of power, holding it high as he released its magic.

For just a moment, the others could glimpse the air distort above them as magical barriers of raw magic are set in place, acting as both a brace and shield against any debris that might rain down upon the group. To buy them a headstart, if the worst came about...

Then, if but to aid in his focus Rhogar, turned towards where the city lied, closed his eyes, and focused on trying to move the city every which way that might cause the mountain of ice above it to collapse, shatter the city, and finally destroy the mythallar once and for all...

-Casting from the Staff of Power with 5 chages Wall of Force, and going with the panel option to hopefully better reinforce the ceiling.

The party moves through the tunnel in silence.

Nearly a mile of ancient ice surrounds them — ragged walls, ceiling arching overhead in pale blue and deep grey, the cold pressing in from every side. Their breath clouds ahead of them. Their footsteps echo and die. Somewhere behind them, beneath a glacier that has held its secrets for a thousand years, the fallen city of Ythryn waits in the dark.

Ahead, the tunnel opens into the warmth of Hathowyn's grove. They can smell it before they see it — earth and green things, impossible and stubborn, alive against all reason.

At the entrance, Rhogar stops.

He turns back to face the dark.

He reaches for the Mythallar one last time — not to guide it, not to shape it, but to use it as a weapon against itself. He finds the connection, breathes into it, and begins to work. The city stirs in the deep ice. Using the power of the Mythallar he raises the city and smashes it against the mountain's bones — against the walls, against the ceiling, against the frozen weight of everything above — again and again, willing the glacier to do what glaciers do: *crush.*

The ground answers.

It begins as a low vibration felt in the soles of the feet, a rumble too deep for ears. Then the tunnel walls begin to creak — a sound like a ship in a storm, like a forest before it falls. The ice shifts. Cracks race upward through the ceiling in branching lines and the first chunks begin to come down, shattering on the tunnel floor in cascades of blue-white shards.

The collapse races toward them.

Someone says *run.* Perhaps everyone does.

They press back toward the grove, hearts hammering, as behind them the tunnel folds inward — hundreds of feet of ice and rock and mountain surrendering all at once in a grinding, thunderous roar that shakes the very air from their lungs.

And then — stillness.

The rumbling subsides. The last tremors pass through the ground like the final shudders of something dying. The dust of pulverized ice settles. The collapse has stopped, frozen in place no more than a couple hundred yards from where they stand — close enough that they can see the wall of debris where the tunnel used to be, close enough that they can feel how near it came.

Rhogar stands very still.

The connection is gone.

Not severed the way a rope frays — gone completely, instantly, the way a candle flame disappears when you pinch it. The Mythallar had been the other end of something he had felt humming in his bones. Now there is only silence where that hum used to live.

He understands what that means.

Nothing short of total destruction could sever the bond between an attuned wielder and an artifact of that magnitude. Somewhere beneath tons of ice and shattered stone, the Mythallar has been crushed — ground to nothing by the weight of an entire glacier, buried so deep and so completely that no one will find it.

Not today. Not in their lifetimes.

Not in anyone's.

Vellynne rushes out of the grove, he familiar owl perched on her shoulder allowing her to see."Fools! What have you done?"

Kazri approaches Vellynne and makes sure she does not get closer to the cave in behind them. "It had to be done Ms Harpell. We going back to Ten Town, and you are welcome to go back with us. Mr. Nimbatuul can explain to you on our way back."

As the ground trembles beneath them, Krom dashes after the others as fast as his short legs can carry him. Nearly out of breath, the dwarf finally pauses to recover once the group reaches the grove. “The lass is right, Vellynne. It has to be done. No one should be allowed to tamper with the weather of this region or play god like those mad wizards,” Krom says after Kazri addresses the wizard. He then returns the Professor Orb to Vellynne.
“It’s a long road back to Ten-Towns,” the dwarf adds after a moment, adjusting the grip on his warhammer. “Let’s be on our way.”

Chill braces himself as the ground begins to move and shift.  As the cave in of the tunnel began to race towards them he moved backwards.

As the ground settled he breathes a sigh of relief.

"You said you had a plan, I didn't realize you took my idea seriously.  But that takes care of that?  Did it work?"

Kitsune, his chimeric fox, joins him at the edge of the grove. Chill scratches his ears as he looks around. 

He ignores Vellynne.  The concerns of mages were not his.  He felt Rhogar had done the right thing.  That city contained things that should not come to light.

As soon as he'd recovered from the sudden sprint, Rhogar's attention had immediately turned to look at the now closed off tunnel; his expression a roiling mix of emotions. It needed to be done. He knew it to be true. And yet, as Vellynne questioned the act, the dragonborn could say nothing at first. Though not academic in the traditional sense, he too felt the weight from the loss of so much knowledge the arcane, an ancient culture, and so much more. Nevermind the other creatures, both malicious and benign that was or might've been left behind, and were subsequently condemned to die by his actions.

So it was that he stood there staring at the collapsed tunnel for longest moment, taking it all. It could be weeks, months, or even years before he fully came to terms with it all. Or, it could be that he /never/ truly would even in his last days of life. But, if there was one thing he'd never regret, it was taking the moment to look back at a fraction of what he'd wrought, and acknowledge it.

Finally, he took a shuddering breath, and with some coaxing from Gorrah nuzzling the side of his cheek, Rhogar allowed the ghost of a smile to briefly bloom before turning to face Vellynne. "I will make no excuse, Ms. Harpell. You are free to despise me for doing what I felt needed to be done. But know that not all of what was has been lost." Hearing that, Gorrah climbed her way into Rhogar's satchel, before eventually producing Iroirlathas' spellbook, and through an exchange of maw and hand, the dragonborn presented the book to Vellynne, knowing she could see it well enough through her familiar.

"This is Iroirthalas' spellbook. The arch mage that led the others that once ruled the city. Poor compensation compared to everything that was sacrificed. But mayhaps within it you might find a better remedy for your own sacrifices, if nothing else. I will endeavor to also assist you, if you wish. Yet, I will understand if after this you would have nothing more to do with us, and have come to prefer the company of that wiry Netherese fellow we brought back last." He chuckled a little, then looked past Vellynne to the others. "But as my companions have said, we should be off. It is a long, long road back to Ten, well.. Eight-Towns, at this point. And the sooner we are back somewhere far more comfortable, the sooner we can set to right what can yet be." With that, Rhogar carried on past the Arcane Brotherhood wizard, collect what treasures had been left in the grove, still bearing Iroirlathas staff for the time being, as there was so much left to do. 

But someday... Someday he hoped to be able to lay it down for good as well...

Vellynne is still upset by what Rhogar has done but she does accept the spell book from him.  Gathering your stuff together you prepare to leave. 

Hathowyn, the dryad, has no intention of leaving, she cannot leave the grove of trees that gives her life.  But she is thankful that you destroyed the gnoll vampire.  Her life will be less fearful thought still lonely.

She also tells you that a man came out of the tunnel, and as she describes him you are sure it was Xerophon.  "He left, made his way out of the caves?  I do not know what happened to him."  Vellynne says that the man would not talk to them and simply kept walking, seemingly intent on leaving.

You back track though the Caves of Hunger till you finally reach the entrance.  Camped just inside the entrance you find several members of the Elk Tribe.  Still alive is Mjenir.  He tells the story of how they fought with the Tiger tribe and ultimately prevailed against them, killing all who tried to stop you when you made your dash to the glacier.  They have since kept vigill, camping at the entrance and guarding it so no one would be able to enter and disturb you. They offer to escort you back towards the Ten-Towns, though they will stop a couple days short as they do not willingly interact with its people.

As you exit the cave and start across the frozen tundra you already can see that spring would not wait for its proper turn this year. It would come early to Icewind Dale — tentative at first, then insistent, then glorious. The clouds were breaking apart in the sky above. The unnatural darkness that had covered the land was already lessening. The sun would find the Ten-Towns and the people would stand in their doorways not quite believing what they felt on their faces. The ice on Maer Dualdon would crack and groan and begin its long retreat. The ground beneath the snow, dead for so long it had nearly forgotten the arrangement, would remember.

In time — months, perhaps a full turn of seasons — the weather would find its own rhythm again. Not Auril's rhythm. Not a goddess's cruel design.

Just weather. Ordinary, beautiful, indifferent weather.

Even in the few days it took to cross the tundra and reach the most eastern town, Caer-Konig, the darkness was now gone, day and night once again had their own places in the natural rhythm of the world.  The weather was improving each day.

Upon reaching Caer-Konig you return to the The Northern Light and are welcomed by the Shorard sisters.  Allie and Cori are delighted to see you return safely and word of your arrival spreads like wildfire.  That night the inn is full of people who want to hear the latest news and rejoice in the ending of the winter.

You are also able to collect your animals and anything else you left with Allie and Cori who took excellent care of them.

One of the first things Chill does when getting to Caer-Konig is check on his dogs Kwalu and Razira. He finds them in good health and well taken care of.  He will leave a large tip for the Shorard Sisters for their services while they were gone.

"What about the destruction of the other towns from the dragon?  What news have you heard?" He asks concernedly.

While the group travels back to Caer-Konig, and the weather gradually returns to its natural rhythm, Krom more than once murmurs a prayer to Moradin, thanking the All-Father for his guidance and support throughout their epic endeavor.

The dwarf warmly thanks the Shorad sisters and, later that night, between hearty gulps of ale and wolfing down his meal, does his best to recount the tale of their adventure to the gathered audience, embellishing certain moments here and there while carefully omitting the more dangerous pieces of lore and hidden knowledge.

“To the Fellowship of the White Cloaks!” Krom proclaims with a broad grin, raising his mug toward his companions. “Vanquishers of the Eternal Winter!”

The dwarf laughs heartily before taking another long drink. “Let us be merry tonight, my friends. New adventures await us on the horizon!”

Both Rhogar and Gorrah share a concerned look following the report on Xerophon. Yet, knowing little could be done in the moment, the two eventually sighed and resolved to at least keep an eye out for the man during their journey.In the meantime, Rhogar finished collecting his things and headed out...

Even knowing the codicil would protect him from any lingering cold in the air, of which there was no doubt plenty even with the change in weather, Rhogar only loosened his coat during the trip to better soak in the sun, and bask in the proof of their success. Such a glorious feeling even chased away the melancholy that came with destroying Ythryn. Though he knew deep down it would return.

Until then, he'd enjoy the long journey back to Caer-Konig, and the welcome company of the Elk Tribe who had so bravely held the line. Some foul forces had yet managed to slip past them. But even so, knowing how much worse things could've been without the tribe in place left the dragonborn so thankful, he'd go so far as to offer Mjenir Vivicori before their parting; a staff made by Vivix' horn, and one of the few items the dragonborn kept and cherished. He took no offense had it not been taken of course but rather reiterated his thanks and wished them well when the time eventually came for the group to part ways.

Later on and with perhaps not quite as much enthusiasm as most others, as the journey had been a long and exhausting one, the dragonborn saw to thanking the Shorad sisters as well. But much like Chill, he waited with bated breath to hear news of things that happened in their absence. And even if things weren't entirely great, so long as there'd been at least some news of the Ten Towns beginning the recovery process, only then had Rhogar allowed for any later merriment to take root.

"To the Fellowship!" He'd call out in agreement with a raised mug and a bright smile of his own. After taking a hearty swig of his own drink, a long beat passes before the dragoborn snorted and said, "Speaking of adventures, I think our next one is already lined up. Least we forget about those Hags and the vengeance they swore! But 'fore we go running off, what say you to spending some time helping the good folk of Ten Towns get back on their feet, eh?" 

Allie, Cori, and the other townsfolk speak in hushed voices of the devastation across the Ten Towns. Dougan's Hole, Good Mead, and Easthaven were left scarred and broken by the dragon’s assault. Caer-Dineval also suffered damage, though it was there that you finally confronted the creature and brought an end to its rampage.

The surviving towns struggled to shelter as many refugees as they could, but the endless winter made survival difficult. Food, firewood, and supplies were stretched dangerously thin, and every day became a battle against hunger and cold as much as despair.

You spend a few days in Caer-Konig recovering from your long ordeal. In time, you turn your efforts toward helping the people rebuild. Krom’s strength and skill prove especially valuable as shattered homes are repaired and defenses raised anew. As the days pass into weeks, the weather slowly begins to soften. The bitter winds ease, the skies brighten more often, and with each small change hope begins to return to the people of Icewind Dale.

Word of your deeds spreads quickly throughout the Ten Towns. Wherever you travel, you are welcomed not only as adventurers, but as heroes — the ones who stood against the endless winter and survived.

The day after your arrival in Caer-Konig, Vellynne Harpell departs. Before leaving, she explains that she intends to study the spellbook you entrusted to her. She believes it contains magic capable of restoring her sight, though she admits the spell lies beyond her present abilities. She plans to return to the Arcane Brotherhood and seek aid from more powerful members of the order.

Though grateful for your companionship, Vellynne cannot fully hide her bitterness over the destruction of Ythryn. The ancient city’s secrets, its forgotten lore, and the knowledge buried within its ruins are now lost forever — a truth that clearly weighs heavily upon her as she leaves.

As the group exits the Cave of Hunger, Kazri thanks the Elk Tribe men for keeping vigil. She asks Mjenir if he happened to see a wizardly looking like man leave the cave.

As they trek back to Ten Towns, Kazri's spirit lift like the weather. She hasn't felt this way for a very long time.

Upon reaching Caer-Konig and The Northern Light, Kazri is glad that the Shorad sisters are doing well, and life is returning to normal.

Kazri will nurse a mug of ale to celebrate the occasion. At Krom's proclamation, she goes to each member of the fellowship and toast them with a smile. "To the Fellowship." Kazri goes to Rhogar last, and says in a quieter voice. "We did it indeed, but I would like to say that I am glad you were there. Thanks to your connection to the weave, you are the one that truly reversed Auril's Eternal Winter." She raises her still full mug of ale to Rhogar. "Cheers."

After spending several weeks repairing damaged homes, rebuilding structures, and raising new defenses against both the elements and hostile creatures, Krom gazes upon his work with pride. Scratching his chin thoughtfully, the dwarf turns toward his companions and friends. “They should now be more than ready to withstand whatever new threats may come, natural or otherwise.”
Krom rests a hand upon the head of his warhammer. “I think it is time for us to bid farewell to this frozen land and journey south, back home. And then…” the dwarf says with a grin, “we prepare ourselves for whatever new dangers and adventures await us. Starting with those hags, I would say,” he adds with a nod toward Rhogar.
“An avatar of a goddess and a lich both tried to stop us and both failed.” Krom pats the handle of his hammer and flashes the Fellowship a broad, toothy grin.
“The story of our Fellowship is far from over. Tell me, my friends… are you ready for the next chapter?”

If Kazri had been more open boastful, Rhogar might've let out a hearty chuckle before deflecting a little, claiming that in the end it wa a group effort. But for some reason, hearing the words 'I am glade you were there' struck far deeper and left him taken aback for a moment. But after a beat, he smiled softly and in a more subdued raising of his mug to Kazri. "Full glad am I to have been able to be there for you... erm, f-for everyone!" With a nervous chuckle, he awkwardly downed most of his mug, before letting the evening festivities take him.

When Vellynne departs the next day, Rhogar is sure to express his gratitude to her for all of her assistance and offered her Duchess, his axe beak, to help speed her travels. But, he otherwise refrained from any platitudes or offering of apologies to try and assuage her feelings. For even if he could find the words, it wasn't as if he'd ever speak them, having not fully forgiven himself. But, he'd quietly hope that book carried more than just the secret to heal Vellynne, but also someday and in some small way helped her find peace with what had to be done.

In the days and eventually weeks to follow, Rhogar spared no small amount of magical might in the effort to help restore the town. After all, it couldn't hurt to have a flying scout or a powerful sorcery available to ward off threats from the surroundings! Though before he could truly be of any use, eventually he'd take either Kazri or Krom aside to help alleviate whatever madness or malady left him so terrified of the sky!

Be all that as it may, when Krom declared it was time to move on, Rhogar couldn't help but smiling and nodding in agreement. It would be years before the townships fully recovered from the devastation wrought by Auril and the duergar who took advantage of the goddess' madness. And in some ways, they might never will in full. But in the little time the group had to be in the company of many inhabitants of the region, he'd knew the hardy bunch would hardly need the Fellowship forever! So, after a sharing a look with the rest of the Fellowship, with his gaze lingering on some a little longer than others, Rhogar said with both confidence and Gorrah chirruping from his shoulder in agreement: "Hmph! Of course! So, let's see what the future yet has for us!"

Chill threw himself into the rebuilding efforts with the same steady determination he had shown through every hardship the Dale had forced upon them. He hauled timber, repaired collapsed roofs, and helped reinforce walls against the bitter winds that still swept across Ten-Towns. Whenever someone needed an extra pair of hands, the tabaxi was there without complaint.

Still, there was a weariness in him that no fire or furs could quite chase away.

“The cold has taken enough from these people,” Chill admitted one evening while staring out across the snow-covered settlement. “I’m glad to help them stand again… but I think my time in Icewind Dale is nearing its end.”

“I miss green grass. I miss roads that aren’t buried under snow. And honestly? I miss Phandalin.”

The thought seemed to lighten him a little.

“A place were folk are rebuilding because they’re growing, not merely surviving. That sounds good right about now.”

Even so, Chill remained committed to helping Ten-Towns recover for as long as he was needed, determined to leave the people stronger than he had found them before finally turning his steps southward—away from the endless winter and toward the familiar warmth of home.

Kazri aids with the others with the rebuilding efforts, trying to be as helpful as she can. When Chill mentions Phandalin, Kazri thinks of the place they left for what it seems an eternity ago. I had a horse there. She thinks to herself. Serenity... and they were helping with the security of the town. "I wonder how is Phandalin doing after all this time?" Then, she thinks of Oli. She wonders how would he fare in the south. She pats the Owlbear. "Once we leave, you will have to get used to warmer weather."

At last, the endless winter is broken. With the defeat of Auril, the skies above Icewind Dale begin to clear, and for the first time in years the people of the North see the promise of a true sunrise. Snow still blankets the land, but the killing cold has eased. The lakes no longer groan beneath unnatural frost, and the wind no longer carries the goddess’s fury.

For months, you remained among the people of the Ten Towns, helping them rebuild what had been lost. Homes were raised from frozen ruins. Roads were cleared. Fishing boats returned to the water. Refugees slowly found places to call home again. In every town your names became known — not merely as adventurers, but as the heroes who endured the Rime and lived to see its end.

But eventually, thoughts turn southward. Turn toward home.

You follow the long stretch of the Ten Trail south through the thawing wilderness until you reach the mining port of Fireshear. There, amid the clang of ship bells and the smell of salt and smoke, you board a vessel bound for Luskan.

The journey south feels strange after so long beneath gray skies and endless snow. Each passing day brings warmer winds, open water, and the sight of green returning to the world. From Luskan, another ship carries you farther down the Sword Coast to Neverwinter.

And as the familiar coastline rises into view, one truth settles over all of you at once:

Soon, you will be home.