This first adventure in the campaign begins in the north of the continent of Dunnharrow, aboard the merchant and passenger vessel Polaris, a common enough trade passage from the City of Dunnharrow on the east coast to the largest city on the opposite coast, known as Fenhaven, which can hardly be called a city at all, with a population of just over 2,000. Onboard the Polaris travel five companions, each travelling to the farthest fringes of the continent for their own reasons.
In the course of what is epected to be the last evening of the voyage, a scuffle on deck introduces the characters to one another, (Brandis, the Human Ranger, Protus, the Human Bard, Mord, the Half-Orc Warden, Malanar, the Eladrin Cleric, and Endahar, the Deva Sorcerer) along with a rather well spoken and dressed individual named Fergusen Fleethilt, a trade messenger from Dunnharrow to Fenhaven.
Violence threatens to gt out of hand between the stangers until the Captain, a grizzled and thick bearded man by the name of Donbren Silvertooth, breaks up the commotion with the insistance that everyone except for crew members get below deck. He claims that it’s an exceptionally cold night, even for this late in the year, and he’d prefer not having to fill out illness papers over some idiot catching a cold. Endahar, as the instigator of the commotion, is clapped in irons belowdeck until morning.
It seems that the cold was even worse than Captain Silvertooth had expected, dropping to an absurd degree, and by morning the cold bites like an axe into flesh. It’s with astonishment that the party arrives on deck the next morning to find that the very sea around them has frozen into jagged, cracked hills and valleys as far as the eye can see, leaving the Polaris trapped like a nut in a bar of chocolate.
Silvertooth calls a conference, explaining the situation. they aren’t far from shore, relatively speaking, only about two or three day’s travel if they pack light, and he intends to. after they reach the coast, they can seek refuge in the fishing outvillage of Smelttown, which is only half a mile or so down the western coast. they divide up responsibilities, and begin packing together some basic supplies for the twenty or so crew and passengers onboard the ship.
the day is mostly spent by the time they’ve got the necessary items arrayed on the ice, when suddenly Brandis notices movement on a neaby ice ridge. it was only for a moment, but he could have sworn a dark shape peeked over the dimming horizon. he calls protus to come with him to investigate, when suddenly, something hit the deck of the ship and shatters, spilling flames across the planks. two more such projectiles hit, and it’s clear that whatever Brandis saw is attacking. while Mord and Malanar try to quell the blaze along with the crew (Without the benefit of seawater), the rest of the party chares up the ice slope towards the unknown assailants, who they discover to be kobolds, but they seem somehow sick, and giving off an unearthly chill.
The fire at the Polaris is hopeless, and Silvertooth orders everyone to abandon ship, but as the party attempts to hustle passengers onto the ice, Mord spots Fergusen Fleethilt charging back into the cabin. curious, and not wanting him to end up trapped belowdecks, he follows the messenger. In the burning cabin, he spots Fleethilt, locked in a struggle with a kobold that managed to circle around and get on board the ship without anyone noticing. There’s a brief fight in which the kobold seems to be trying to steal something of Fleethilt’s, until it is slain, leaving Mord and Fergusen to stumble out onto the ice. With all the kobolds routed, they are left with a moment to themselves to think, and Mord realizes that in the confusion he had gotten ahold of whatever it was the kobold had wanted, a bottle of what Endahar immediately recognizes as Deva blood, the blood of an inherently good, and generally rare creature.
the party turns on Fleethilt, who quickly becomes aware of his situation, and makes a break for it, throwing aside his distinctive coat and trying to secret himself among the crowd of about thirty other passengers. The group searches this passengers and crew thoroughly, but oddly, can’t find a trace of the mysterious traveler. resolving themselves to look deeper into the mystery once they’ve put a few hour’s travel between them and the ambush site, the group sees little choice but to push on southward.
the road is hard on the ice, and the wind a bitter, biting cold that slyly creeps into your bones, until before you realize it, your nose is turning blue and you’re lost feeling in your feet. before too long, a few of the passengers have to be carried, and the Captain confides in the group that he highly doubts that this is any sort of natural chill. Protus mentions the sickened kobolds, and Silvertooth wonders aloud if, or how, the two are related.
after a half-day’s travel, the party reaches a broken, jagged band of ice where the currents have forced two ice plates against each other, building them into an impassable white cathedral, running from east to west, directly across their path. making a snap decision, the party decides to pick their way westward to look for a way through. when they spot a path, however, they soon find themselves hemmed in by more kobolds, sick in the same manner and attempting to ambush them again, marking the first use of the term “Blunder Buddies.” also, first use of the “Blunder” power.