Lynch’s Journal

Entry #123

As our horses trot to the gates of Icewall I see the spell Nataku had taught me months ago worked. The snowbird that was enchanted by my nature magic delivered the message ahead of our arrival. On top of the battlements of the gates Balasar and I can see Prince Amon Frost pointing us out to his guards.

Our friend is a welcomed sight from the harsh winter cold of the North. We have been through much together in the short time Amon and I have known each other. I went from setting Maddox, Varix and myself up for the prince to capture to pleading with him to aid me in destroying The Restless Hand. Prince Frost had proven to me that he was the only person I could trust through Novak’s long reach on the Sword Coast. Alongside Lithia and Balasar, we defeated him and his organization.

Or so we thought. Luring him in with promises of power to protect his people, the naive prince fell under the corruption of the First Breaker.

He was an unwilling agent for Vecna’s causes. They were using him to not only get to me but to take over the kingdom of Icewall. Despite the deceit, Amon broke free over their control to rise up and help us defeated The Maimed Lord’s minions once and for all.

We have a friendship bound by brands turned scars.

He welcomes us into Icewall with firm hand shakes that are pulled into hearty hugs. The boy seems as if he has grown into a man with the beard now framing his face. I would hope so seeing how Amon is now a father more than anything.

As the guards take our horses to the stables for some much deserved rest I am proud at what I see in this once war torn kingdom. Prince Frost’s promise that all citizens would be treated as equals has come to fruition. All within the walls are working together to rebuild what was lost during The Restless Hand’s siege almost a year ago. Then there is quite the surprised for Balasar and myself among the folk.

Full blooded orcs?!

Balasar and I cannot believe our eyes at what we are seeing. Just over a dozen of the strong brutes are assisting in erecting several of the buildings. A few look in our direction with nods of approval and not a care for the look of shocks on our faces. Has the young Amon truly become worthy to carry the title of king?

The smirk on his face as we look at says enough.

We continue our walk to the keep without much of a word spoken. What the prince is doing in Icewall will speak volumes to the community in the North after the fall of the orc kingdom Many Arrows years ago.

To solidify this stance as we enter the dining hall, Lithia Muun-Frost counts among her children an orc infant among their twin boys. The baby is tended to by the maidens of the sorceress no different than Henry or Randle. A good sign indeed for the future of this kingdom.

Or one that could bring a bloodbath if Tuskgutter were to find itself within these walls.

As my friend begins to introduce her unusual babe I cut her off, warning both Amon and Lithia of the terrible news I bring and how it will now affect Icewall and its newest citizens.

Looking sternly at me in a way only Muun can, Amon exhales a deep sigh of concern. Prince Frost waves away the maidens to take the children as he hangs his head in one hand, taking another deep breath to slowly release it.

It is a sign that Lithia and he have terrible news as well.

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #122

As the skeletal orc beckons me to follow the key home I once again ask myself if trusting this godsdamned lich is right. The creature makes me uneasy like all undead do but this one is different than any I have ever put down. Far different to say the least. It as all the benefits of its cursed existence with all the power of an archmage.

At this point I have no choice but to put my faith in the thing. The Sunbreaker gem is an indication of a trusted ally of Lothric. Though I do not trust the dragon, Cindermaw would not bind the artifact to the lich if it did not uphold law and justice.

Through the magical connection I question the sheriff’s cryptic ally. The lich freely gives the answers.

Lothric is not on a mission given by Cindermaw but a one he holds personal. My friend hunts down Brask, once a member of Icewall’s military under Randle Dundragon. Feeling betrayed by his commander after his pride led to the soldier’s demise, Brask rose from the grave as an undead to seek revenge on our ally. We heroes of Red Larch had repelled him and his soldiers within the walls of Icewall during the siege.

The undead mage continues on, informing me that it and Lothric had fought along side each other before he settled into his adopted home. I take the hint that the sheriff had been a Sunbreaker before coming to defend our small town.

And as if to earn my trust, it tells me it’s name.

Nathanos.

Eyeing the bright, red gem set in the old, wooden staff I asked of Cindermaw and his plans for the remaining four gems?

The lich informs me that the great dragon has almost purified the corruption within them. Once Novak’s taint is removed, the fire wyrm will seek out those worthy of gem’s power to restore law to the lands.

Nathanos goes on to notify me that my path is leading to him, that I will find his fortress in the glacier past Icewall. His key, given to me by Lothric, was forged there within the ice and will allow me and my companions entrance.

It’s mentioning of the glacier does not sit well. For the life of me I cannot figure out why as he rambles about the key. Much like Slukx was rambling on in his notes about the glacier.

The same glacier this fortress lies within.

I cut the lich off, warning him that Tuskgutter is coming. Nanthanos dismisses my concern with a wave of his hand as if it does not matter. With a grim and threatening tone he declares all who have tried to enter have died. As the magic begins to fade I explain that the abomination was crafted to sense and hunt our kind.

Again, Nathanos waves his hand showing not a care.

With the image of the lich gone I cannot help but believe it would not be such a bad thing to have a confident and powerful ally.

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #121

We wasted little time as possible once returning to Red Larch. Leaving Stormaxe in the roll of sheriff during my absence, I said my goodbyes to Amara as Balasar got his business lined out at the Last Tavern on the Left.

She is all I have thought about while on the road to Icewall.

Remembering the sadness on her delicate features has made every night restless. My love reassured me that she understood why I must go but it does not ease the pain of leaving. Every morning I have woke up telling myself that this is what must be done to protect her and everyone in my home. It is a promise made that I intend to keep from all those days ago.

We briefly stopped Mirabar to resupply for the bitter cold of the Northern wind. I decided to warn Lamoram on what we had discovered. With Tuskgutter being intelligent as Doctor Slukx claims, our guess is they have avoided all settlements to not give themselves away.

The meeting was mostly pointless. He nor his organization could offer any aid. It seems the siege of Icewall had took a toll on Mirabar and its resources. The most the priest can offer is a hot meal and a warm cot, a most welcomed gift during the harsh winter months.

During our short stay with the priest and just like every night on the road, I can feel the pull of Lothric’s key, guiding me like a compass past the city. It is almost urging me to continue on as if under the lich’s spell. Despite my efforts to ignore lure, the pulses get stronger every step we take North.

Just a day outside of Icewall, I used magic taught to me by Nataku to send a message ahead to warn of our arrival. A tingle of magic in my mind throws me off, it is not of nature. The recipient of my spell could never arrive so fast to its destination nor should there be any feed back after casting.

A voice echoes in my thoughts. The image of the throne covered with overgrowth takes shape. A Sunbreaker gem sparks as green eyes flare to life. My bones are rattled by the pulsing of the key. Spiking cold pain quickly wracks my body.

Once again, the lich beckons me.

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #120

I am lost in my thoughts. The anger at what Balasar and myself have discovered weighs heavily on my shoulders. The distraction is so great it takes the sharp pain of piercing cold in my hip to bring my attention to the pulsing with my pouch. As soon as my fingers touch Lothric’s key something reaches into my mind.

The anger subsides to fear as my memories race back to every time Novak had done this to me. I fight back, willing myself to block out the intrusion. A shimmer of an illusion begins to form. Then I see it, a glowing red gem.

A Sun Breaker.

They are heavily cloaked, sitting in an old throne covered in mold and fungus as if they are deep within a ancient forest. Its voice is dry and cracked as if they have not spoken in over a century. Whoever this is warns me that Lothic is in grave danger. That I am to gather allies and head to Icewall to begin a search.

As they lean forward I can see within the darkness of their hood as tiny, green orbs begin to glow, revealing the skeletal face of an orc. Thin, dead skin hides parts of its face. Unlike myself the tusk are larger and worn. A small fracture marks the front of its skull.

A godsdamned lich.

The undead tells me to follow the key home.

Why should I trust him after Novak and Prince Amon’s experiences with Cindermaw’s gems of powers? Despite Lothric’s affiliation with the dragon, my trust in him is due to the bond we developed over The Restless Hand. But it knows I have no choice. I have to have faith that this is my friend’s doing.

Willing myself to speak through the magic, I ask of if it knows of this Tuskgutter and Doctor Slukx. It leans back in its decrepit throne, revealing what I assume is a smirk.

The Sun Breaker informs me that they are both involved in the larger scheme of things. To hunt them down is to learn of the truth of why The Restless Hand was created. It assured me all will be revealed in time.

Growling at this undead mage, the image of the magic slowly fades away as does the light from its eyes and that of the glowing gem in its staff. As it does something violent shakes me. Instinctively grabbing for Novak’s shortsword, a firm grip stops me.

Rapidly blinking me eyes as the magic ceases, Balasar warns me not to do so. The paladin knows something important has just occurred. With a deep breath I tell him what I had experienced.

With more to worry on our minds we pick up the pace to Red Larch.

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #119

As we rush back home my heart fills with hate. Rage muddles my mind. The calm before the storm is over. This oversight has let The Restless Hand slip right back into my life.

How could I have been so careless?

I grind my teeth as it hits me like the club of an ogre.

I have become soft.

Before Red Larch, before Amara and everything else I was cold to those around me. After Novak had let Remy die and forced me into The Restless Hand all I could do is think about how to rid myself of them.

From my time in my organization I had been taught to tie up loose ends. Once I had my chance to be free of Maddox and Varix there was no doubt in my mind what needed to be done. As they slept in their cells the night after our trial I set them ablaze. Their deaths would prevent them from chasing me down.

That was the first of many loose ends.

Since that night all I did was sever my ties to The Restless Hand. I defeated Novak and aided in killing his ally, the First Breaker. This all lead to preventing them from gathering the Sun Breaker gems and stopped the siege of Icewall.

But to do that I needed allies when I had not trusted anyone in years. Through Prince Amon Frost I had learned to open myself up and put faith in other people. With Lithia Muun I had found someone who understood my bluntness and wariness of people. Balasar, someone who I blamed for so much in the beginning of my rebellion, taught me forgiveness and became my brother in arms.

I believed all my loose ends were tied.

All of this blinded me to be cautious of what lurks in the shadows. It dulled the edge built in back ally fights. Just like that young and innocent orphan running the streets of Waterdeep, I had let my guard down for The Restless Hand to gain footing in my life once again.

There is no forgiving myself for this.

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #118

The two zombies are not an issue, they go down effortlessly. It is what we find in the back of Lance Rock, the source of the horrid smell. The scene is all too familiar, it is one both Balasar and myself wished to never lay eyes upon again.

Dozens of butchered orcs lay, hang or are stacked about the cave. The sight make me force down the vomit rising in the throat. An inspection of their bodies reveals some limbs were torn by force, others were cut by a blade.

My blood boils as I think back to the Bringers of Woe compound where we had seen this before. My scarred shoulder begins to ache at the thought, a reminder of the abomination that was constructed there. Novak had the thing hunting my kind in some strange cannibalistic fashion.

Balasar draws me away from my thoughts, pointing out the forge and tools. The bloody saw among them only reaffirms our findings. Beside them sets a cot and table for a smaller person. Atop the old table rests a blood stained journal.

Shuffling through the pages we find out the butcher fancies himself as Doctor Slukx. The entries are frantically written, a clue that either he was in a rush or insane. I imagine it is both due to the notes within.

It mentions his failures lead to this great creation. This new abomination is intelligent despite its hunger for its own kind. Slukx marvels at the thing’s keen ability to think and how it is an asset to the hunt. It has even thought to give itself a name.

Tuskgutter.

Overwhelmed by what we have discovered, I give no thought to check the drawer of the table before opening it. The tiny cut from the razor is nothing to the panic that is starting to swell within me. Another journal is inside, this one is more personal than medical.

Quickly thumbing through the entries I notice The Restless Hand, including sketches resembling my brand from them. Novak is mentioned very little. There are some ramblings about a glacier in the North. But the final pages breathe life into my fears.

Slukx and this Tuskgutter are heading toward Icewall where this glacier rest. Are they hunting me? Do they believe that is where I will be found? Are they hunting the orc tribes in the area?

Pointing out my findings to Balasar, I express my fear that they could be in Red Larch this very minute. My friend quickly calms me, explaining if Tuskgutter was tracking my scent we would have already confronted the abomination. He believes they are heading North without hesitation.

The paladin suggest we do the same.

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