The party awakens at The Lone Beacon (Day: Ogrus' Mercy - 7), their night’s rest abruptly shattered by a piercing scream from outside. The voice is indistinct—male or female, it’s impossible to tell—but the tone is unmistakable: someone is in trouble. It’s around 4 AM. Rushing downstairs, they find the common room eerily empty. Looking out the window, Aragon spots movement—a large creature doing something near the side of the building, obscured from view. Then he notices another one.
With little hesitation, the group vaults through the window and lands in the street, coming face-to-face with two massive supernatural worgs—and the bloodied body of a middle-aged man. The beasts are feasting.
The party springs into action, hoping to drive the worgs away and save the man’s life. Magic is cast. Blades flash. Secrets-Thokein attempts to communicate with the creatures—but they ignore him entirely, lost in their frenzy.
In the end, the party slays the beasts, but the man succumbs to his injuries.
Curious about what could have driven these normally reclusive creatures into Timberfall Hollow, the druid inspects them, searching for any magical influence or unnatural compulsion—but finds nothing. They were simply hungry.
Looting the body, they find a handful of coins and a pair of dice.
Rather than stir the town at this late hour, the party returns to their rooms and decides to handle the situation in the morning.
At first light, the party descends to the common room, where they meet . She identifies the victim as Lucky Lorren, a local farmer and gambler. More importantly, she suggests they speak to Seraphina, the tavern owner and Loren’s friend—she may even offer them a reward for avenging him.
Before dealing with that, however, the group turns their attention to another matter: .
The dwarven blacksmith had been robbed, and the party had learned the night before that he was offering payment for the return of his stolen goods.
They make their way to Redbraid Forge, where Calder is less than thrilled to have visitors so early—until he sees Costa, a fellow dwarf. His mood shifts from gruff to friendly, and he welcomes them inside.
Calder explains that while he was having dinner at The Lone Beacon, someone broke into his shop and stole ten finely crafted mining picks, tools that were supposed to be delivered today.
The party strikes a bargain: five gold per person for the recovery of the stolen tools.
Calder had already done some investigating—he tracked the thieves to a cave off the Old Timber Path. As expected, the culprits were kobolds.
He offers to guide the party to the cave but refuses to enter, bluntly stating: “I’m not dying for twenty gold.”
Traveling along the The Old Timber Path, the party notes the embedded gemstones in the road—small, ornamental gems that catch the light, providing a faint shimmer in the darkness.
Arriving at the cave, they see small reptilian tracks in the dirt, as well as sharp piles of stone, suggesting recent mining activity. However, something more troubling stands out—larger boot prints, belonging to a humanoid in heavy footwear, and claw marks from what appears to be a small dragon or drake.
From within, the sound of metal striking rock echoes outward.
Before they can investigate further, the ground beneath them erupts in a violent spray of dirt and stone.
A Dragolin, a draconic beast, bursts from the earth, assisted by kobold archers who rain arrows down upon them.
The kobolds scatter, two of them retreating further inside, while the Dragolin and the remaining kobolds stand their ground.
After a brutal fight, the party defeats the Dragolin and the kobolds.
Searching the bodies and surroundings, they recover nine of the ten stolen mining picks, along with some coins and an old clerical vestment of Ogrus.
But they are wounded and exhausted.
Knowing the fight isn’t over, Thokein recalls that Embercore Apples—a natural healing fruit—grow in this area. The party marks the cave entrance with a pattern in the dirt to check for any intruders while they’re gone, then sets out to forage.
They return in half an hour, Embercore Apples in hand, heal up, and re-enter the cave.
Deeper within, they find a narrow passageway, leading to an unusual sight—a room carved into the bedrock.
The chamber had been discovered by the kobolds, its entrance recently broken open, leaving piles of stone by the doorway.
Inside, they find:
Two ransacked bookshelves, their contents thrown into a moldering pile.
An antique desk, standing in the center of the room, surrounded by glowing dwarven runes.
A wooden alchemical table, covered in dusty vials and aged equipment.
And, most alarmingly, a humming arcane portal, suspended just above the floor, pulsing with energy.
Then, from deeper within the room, the two retreating kobolds emerge—this time, with reinforcements.
A bugbear in hide armor steps forward, dual-wielding handaxes, and attacks.
The party engages in another fight, quickly defeating the bugbear and one of the kobolds.
But the kobold ringleader escapes through the portal and closes it behind him.
With the immediate threat gone, the party searches the chamber.
The book pile is mostly ruined, but three intact tomes remain (each tome is large and weights about 5 pounds):
Checking the alchemical equipment, they find four vials of acid still in usable condition.
Turning their attention to the desk, the dwarven runes surrounding the antique desk are revealed to be a trap—one that unleashes a sonic blast upon intruders. Unfortunately, they find no way to disable it.
Thinking outside the box, Rithlas acrobatically leaps onto the desk, avoiding the trap, and searches its drawers.
Inside, they find a ring box (Containing: Voran's Ring) and a small note, yellowed with age.
The note appears to be a fragment of a journal entry:
"At last, I have obtained what I believe to be Voran’s Ring, the so-called Warden of the Wastes. The craftsmanship is unmistakable—ancient silver, etched with delicate frost-laced patterns, and set with a sapphire so deep it seems to hold the last breath of winter itself. Yet, the ring is strangely warm to the touch, as if resisting the very cold it was forged to withstand.
Legends claim it once belonged to Voran Iceborn, a warrior who fled his own people in disgrace, doomed to wander the frozen north in search of redemption. Some accounts paint him as a coward; others, as a man who defied an unjust law demanding his death. The truth, as always, is likely somewhere between.
One troubling note, I have encountered troubling whispers when handling it—faint, unintelligible voices carried on a breeze that does not exist. Is this merely an enchantment? Or does the ring retain some vestige of its former master?"
Finally, the party examines a collection of scrolls, but none of them recognize the language they are written in.
As they prepare to leave the cave, the group realizes something:
They only recovered nine of the ten mining picks.
Leaving the chamber, they spot a small splinter path—one they had missed before.
If another kobold escaped with the missing pick…
Then the job isn’t finished yet.