FEATURED ADVENTURERS:
Uther Valens - Aasimar Warlock - Level 2: Spent the previous episode sleeping in a crate. Begins this episode retracing the steps of his party members.
The Great Klardini - High Elf Wizard - Level 1: Ancient elf who, in the previous episode, ate too many goblin nightfruit mushrooms and is now a mutated freak.
Varian Bloomstrike - Eladrin Paladin - Level 2: Feywild native, currently frozen in place after looking into a magic mirror... actually, his player fell asleep while playing during the last episode.
Afik Bonefinger - Mountain Dwarf Fighter - Level 2: Sailor who fears the water. Spent the last episode locked in a shipping crate with Uther. Slowly going mad.
Mox - Goblin Ranger - Level 2: Descendant of Amoxi the Cold. Recently obtained ownership of Amoxi's stuff, so the party is digging through Amoxi's tomb to find the gear that legally belongs to him. Mox's player forgot we were playing today and shows up two hours late.
While Klardini confronts his fate of being a hairy eyeball-hand-beast, we’re going to segue back over to Captain Swamu’s ship and see what Uther has been up to. Come on! Let’s go! Don’t trip over anything on our little jaunt back to the ship! It’s right over here! Back to the Material plane—where the materials are! Over to the ship! Where was he? Oh yes, he was crated!
Uther wakes up in a crate full of poopy plants. He examines them. They smell like Afik Bonefinger.
“This is Afik? Ew gross!” Uther shouts, then opens the crate. He’s concerned that he is on a ship that is docked not in the city. Also, snow?
Why is there snow everywhere?
Why is he docked at a ramshackle marina in the cold woods?
Why is there poopy plants everywhere?
“Ah, good afternoon!” Captain Swamu says.
Why is this guy here?
Uther turns to the captain. Uther is quite confused. “Ah, hello sir… is this the season of vengeance already? The snow?” Uther points at the snow. It’s everywhere, so he just points wherever. Just fingers all over.
“Oh no no no! This is not vengeance!” Captain Swamu says, referring to one of the four main seasons. “This snow is an enchantment—it affects the land. Your friends went that way!” He points towards the plot.
“Is there anything that you know that I should know about this place?” Uther says, prepping accordingly.
“Your friends are looking for an ancient tomb because the little one, the littlest of them, the green one, apparently inherited some sort of... well, inheritance! And it's in the tomb,” Captain Swamu says.
Uther ponders ponderingly. “I hope he inherited, like, a mummy or something! What about this place in general? Is there danger?”
“Dress for the cold!” Captain Swamu says, giving Uther a sealskin cloak to wear. None of the others dressed for the cold. Maybe because it was magic cold!
“Do you have a dwarf? Or a mule? Some kind of pack animal?” Uther says, not a fan of walking on his own if he can help it.
“I have never been here before! You may steal whatever you desire. I won't snitch,” Captain Swamu says, knowing not to bring the popo into this.
Uther steps off the boat and scavenges the nearby cabin, snow, and trees. He realizes that everything possible to plunder has been plundered already—damned party members! Had he not slumbered away his plundering he wouldn’t be wondering why he didn’t have any encumbering—shit, this rhyming joke is dumb.
And this quest… is blundering!
Title drop!
Almost!

Uther sets off down the path that his adventuring crew already ventured down—the wind almost knocks the branches off nearby trees, but he bundles up and keeps his path.
After an hour of trudging through the snow down the tree path, he finds the sacrificial altar with dead Briar-Anne’s dead corpse lying on the altar. He sees the footsteps of his friends all around the whything stones, so he follows in their literal footsteps to see what they were doing. He approaches the dead corpse. He tries to pilfer the corpse, but it's already pilfered. "Them again!" he shouts—Uther sees even her blood is pilfered.
They looted everything!
Uther checks out one of the whything stones and digs around it. Maybe there’s treasure under the rocks? He rolls a 1 on an Arcana check to find out more about the rocks—which informs him that if he takes one more scoop of snow from around the rock, he’ll explode and die! That’s not how he wants to explode, so he pisses off and runs to the entrance of the tomb, away from the exploding rocks that don’t actually explode. Fortunately, the rock in front of the tomb is already rolled away from the entrance—clearly his friends ventured through this hole.
Hrm, the first room that he sees from the entrance appears quite moldy. He casts light on a pebble and throws it in. Nothing happens. Good! He goes in and sees the four plinths that once held accessories that tried to kill his friends. He knows none of this. They’re just four plinths of nothing—bastards! They must have pilfered this room already!
There are three paths from here: north, east, and west. North has a set of doors—and he ain’t touching no doors! They’re closed! There could be un-slain monsters behind them. The eastern path has Varian slumped in a corner near the mirror with the sheet over it, but Uther doesn’t know Varian is there so he doesn’t go down that hall—he goes west, like some kind of Russian mouse escaping the Cossacks, but not in the sequel.
Nobody will get that reference… you’re trying to Googe it now aren’t you!?
Put the phone down!
Wait, pick it back up and keep reading this!
In the western room, Uther sees there are three paths—the one he just entered, a set of stairs leading down from to the northeast, and a corridor to the north. In the back of the room, on a marble plinth, is an equally marble but not equally-plinthy statue of a pretty elf woman with long, flowing hair and a star on her forehead. She’s facing the stairs and has a finger raised to her lips—she is blindfolded with a black cloth.
Maybe there is loot to be had? If there’s danger, he’ll make sure to loot, scoot, then boogey.
Uther takes the blindfold off the statue because dammit he’s looting something—the blindfold is embroidered with gold inlay, about 5 gp worth. Nice! He then follows the stairs down to the northeast and sees the same thing that his previous party members saw when they went down the stairs from the mirror room: a shimmering pool surrounded by freaky ghost floating candles, and the same statue of the elf maiden in the center of the pool. He reaches for one of the floating candles since he’s a huge fan of light, but his hand goes through it. As he reaches, he sees a flicker of a tower sitting on a patch of ice—a vision! Visions are cool! He casts light on a pebble again and throws it into the shimmering pool—it lands and ripples out.
He steps forth, which causes him to enter the Feywild through the magic candle barrier. He’s now standing on a snowbank, facing the tower on the lake. Above him, a purple gash is cut through the sky, and goop drips out of it.
Nope! No reality-warping goop nonsense!
He ponders about the hole in the sky, trying to get a look at it but keeping his distance. While doing so, he hears Klardini!
Coming from the icy tower is Klardini’s terrifying outcry from the end of last episode, “I’M A MONSTER!!!”
Uther isn’t going to tango with no monster! He dashes through the candle barrier again and down the southeast path of the forest, which sends him back into the tomb—this time he runs up the stairs and enters the mirror room, but he doesn’t know it’s the mirror room because the mirror has a blanket draped over it. It’s more of a “Room With a Covered Mirror In It” kind of room to him, which makes sense because—again—the mirror is covered so he doesn’t know it’s there.
He does, however, see Varian lying down in the corner!
Hooray! A friend!
“Mmmm, bumbleberries…” Varian mumbles in his slumber.
“Now you're bumbleberries? What were you before?” Uther says, waking Varian up from his stupid sleep. “Also what's this blanket for?”
Uther takes the blanket off the mirror, then realizes there’s a mirror under the blanket! And the mirror has a reflection of him! And the mirror causes him to make a saving throw that he fails, and Uther falls to the ground, petrified.
Varian wakes up and is shocked to see Uther is frozen in place on the ground near the mirror. Afik, Klardini, and Mox are nowhere to be seen.
This worries the eladrin.
“Uh... guys... where is everyone!?” Varian shouts. “Wizard!?”
Varian realizes this mirror goes Medusa-style on people, so he carefully places it face down on the ground. He checks on Uther, who is still frozen in place. He has no idea what to do. This is terrible. He casts divine sense—he senses a celestial aura from Uther, big whoop, Uther’s always glowing like an angel. But he detects two undead auras swirling around in the room north of the place where they fought all the trinkets.
“Well Uther, you're coming with me. We gotta go find the wizard and fix this,” Varian says, grabbing Uther and dragging him along—they’re off to see the wizard, but there’s no yellow brick road to guide them.
He drags Uther back to the room where he fought the objects, then pushes open the doors to the north, revealing a crypt! Five stone sarcophagi lie in the room, two of them have their lids pushed open. None contain a decrepit sahuagin—drats! A jagged, purple crack crosses a large chunk of the room, and nasty goop drips from the ceiling through the open crack. Most surprising of all, two floating, skeletal corpses dance with each other. They’re dressed in rotted, aristocratic robes.
“Welcome visitor!” the male skeleton says, turning to Varian.
Varian stutters, “I was in the other room, and something happened to him. Can you help?” He points at the aasimar who he’s been dragging around.
“Help with what? He’s at rest like we are!” the lady skeleton says with a chuckle.
“Well, he's not at rest, and neither are you. You're dancing around. Have you seen a wizard come through here? He's old. He calls spells the wrong things.”
“No wizard through here—only us!” the male skeleton says, twirling his dance partner around.
Varian doesn’t want to be here anymore. “What's past your chamber here?”
“That is the Hall of the Hounds,” the skeletons say.
“Well... we're going to go past you now. If you try to stop us, then we're going to have to fight,” Varian says, not wanting to smash up these skeletons, but definitely willing to use his paladin magic if he needs to.
“Fair enough,” the skeletons say, then return to dancing.
Varian tries to slip past the drippy slime falling from the ceiling so he can reach the doors on the other side—he bypasses the slime, but a glob of it lands on Uther. The aasimar becomes lighter with each step Varian takes.
“Oh great, you seem to be getting easier to carry. I must be strong!” Varian says.
He then realizes that Uther is now floating straight up—lighter than air! Now the floating skeletons make sense to Varian. He takes out some rope and ties Uther to him like a balloon. He pushes the door open on the north end of the crypt and steps into the so-called Hall of the Hounds.

Within this room are four pillars, each depicting a carved relief of the war with the winter lands of the Feywild and the mortals. A set of massive doors rests against the north, and two enormous hounds carved out of stone sit on either side of the doors—almost like they can come to life and attack things. Varian’s a thing, so he doesn’t want to be attacked.
Varian takes his steps one at a time, then sees an inscription in Sylvan above the door that says, “Call to the companions.”
“Here boy! Who's a good boy?” Varian shouts.
Nothing happens.
“I'm out of ideas. Uther?” Varian says to Uther’s petrified, floating body.
Uther's eyes glow angrily.
“I don't know where to go!” Varian says.
He goes back to crypt because he’s lost and his only friends are skeletons.
“Hey! You two know anything about these dogs? How do I call the dogs?” Varian shouts to the dancing, floating dead skeletons.
“You must speak their names—I don't know their names,” the male skeleton says. “They are the hounds of Sir Chyde!”
Varian has heard of these dogs in his tales of Feywild history—Sir Chyde’s faithful hounds followed him everywhere. He has no idea what their names are. If only he paid attention in paladin school!
Varian drags Uther’s angry, petrified body down a hallway. The aasimar scrapes along the ceiling. Varian soon finds a hallway leading to a small chapel—within are several rotten pews, a small altar, and a moldy curtain. The altar has a small statue of a goblin on it. The goblin suspiciously looks a bit like Mox.
Varian ties Uther to the goblin statue to keep him more anchored. He peers at the curtain—it is embroidered with a scene of Sir Chyde meeting a frost goblin in the afterlife. The goblin in the embroidery looks like the goblin statue that looks like Mox. This looks like lore! To hell with lore, Varian wants answers! He pushes the curtain aside, expecting a window—but no, there is a door!
A locked door!
A locked door behind the lore!
Score!
He peers through the keyhole and sees a small living quarter on the other side. There’s a wooden desk, a hole in the wall, and a little tile sitting askew in the stone floor. He can’t open the door, so he uses his fey step ability to teleport to the other side. He unlocks the door from within, then opens it.
Heck yeah! Sneaky shit!
The drawers to the desk are also locked. Fortunately, Uther has a key. He raises his great axe and chops up the desk with it, revealing a mold-covered book inside. He peels the cover open, which reveals a brass sheet inside inscribed with a pastoral poem about Sir Chyde hunting with his favored dogs—one of the dogs is named Flaegr.
He has the names! To heck with paladin school, he didn’t have to memorize that poem at all, it was in the desk library!
Varian scrambles over to the loose flagstone tile and throws it aside, revealing a hidden lockbox beneath! He also has a key to this one. He smashes the box with his great axe, triggering a dart trap that shoots from the box—it whizzes past his ear and sticks into the ceiling above. Within the broken lockbox, he finds a silver holy symbol for the Archfey worth 50 gp, a scroll of hold person, and a pristine prayer book stamped with gold leaf worth 500 gp. There’s a box with 20 holy wafers that, when eaten, restore 1 Hit Point.
Score!
Varian looks at the scary tunnel leading out of the room and decides to not go there—instead, he retraces his steps and returns to the room with the mural of Sir Chyde fighting the frost elves. He sees the same collar that Mox saw earlier—the second dog’s name is Chedr!
Paladin school be damned! Looting and stealing brings you knowledge!
With the names of the dogs memorized, Varian drags Uther back to the Hall of the Hounds and stands before the door. He speaks the names, Flaegr and Chedr, and the creepy doors creepily open.
“Greetings, kin of the Feywild,” a shimmering, semi-transparent, azure ghost speaks. He is thin, drawn with age, and armored with plate mail. His face is forlorn and love-lost, and he kneels before a portrait depicting a not unfamiliar visage—a fair maiden with long, flowing hair and a star on her forehead. Near the ghost is a stone coffer, carved in the likeness of a knight.
“This is my friend,” Varian says, pointing to Uther. “He's not normally a light-up balloon.”
The dead ghost of dead Sir Chyde smiles at them. “The aasimar were great allies of ours in the war against the Cold Prince. You wield your ally as a banner?”
“I think something happened with a cursed mirror—I didn't want to get close!” Varian says.
“Sunlight will cure his ailment,” Sir Chyde says.
“Maybe he'll see the sun again,” Varian says. The sun is literally outside.
“The aasimar sure love the sun,” Sir Chyde chuckles.
“Yes, they do!” Varian says. “They certainly talk about the sun!”
Uther talks about nothing right now because he’s paralyzed. He only seethes with rage.
“I never thought a mortal would find me—but I seek to be united with my long-lost love. You may have heard of her as the Lady of the Wood,” Sir Chyde says.
“Yes,” Varian says, holding his bag full of stolen shit.
“She is Princess Snowfall-at-Dusk, the daughter of the Cold Prince. I was to be wed to her, until I was slain. That was our engagement ring,” Sir Chyde says, pointing to his own corpse. A bronze band set with a moonstone glimmers on the hand of the dead body.

“Let's see. Would you like me to take it to her?” Varian says.
“If you do, you can have all else that I took to the grave with me,” Sir Chyde says.
Varian’s eyes light up. Surrender one ring and get everything else? Legally? Blessed by a ghost and legally backed up by Mox’s paperwork? “Okay, well that sounds like a deal!”
Varian reaches in and grabs the ring from the corpse. The ghost of Sir Chyde disappears. Varian then takes everything else that isn’t nailed down, such as a pair of copper bracelets engraved with owls and bedecked with amethyst eyes, as well as a pair of silver candlesticks. He’s so happy that he received permission to rob the rest of Sir Chyde’s stuff that’s actually Mox’s. Just like he learned in paladin school: you can’t get arrested if a ghost told you to do it!
Meanwhile, back in the Feywild, Klardini is still in a tizzy about his sudden predicament! His eyes are growing out of the palms of his hands instead of the sockets of his face, his hair and fingernails are ten feet long, and he’s a towering, hunchbacked, 12 foot tall freak of nature. If only he didn’t eat four enchanted mushrooms one after the other!
His screams echo throughout the icy tower, and Afik’s screams soon join his. Afik takes his battle axe and chops away at the long hair protruding from all of Klardini’s orifices, and he even hacks away at some of the scary, haggard fingernails. Several waves of ragged hair still drag behind him. This is just not Klardini’s day!
“My life is pain!” Klardini shouts, bumbling around the lobby of the tower. He slams into a door, shoving it open and revealing a kitchen. Within the kitchen is a massive troll that stares at his hands staring back at it. Klardini screams and slams the door, his eyes sore from the process.
“What are you doing?” Afik says.
“I don't know!” Klardini cries out, his hands wet with tears.
“You're tripping everyone with your hair!” Afik says, then turns on the goblin butler. “What have you done with my friend?”
“He ate the nightfruit—and things happened. As with both of you,” the butler says, pointing to Afik and Mox.
“How long does this last?” Afik says.
The goblin butler shrugs. “If anything, you could remove the curse.”
“Do I have a scroll!?” Klardini puts his hand in his backpack to look around, finding no scrolls of remove curse.
“Well in the meantime... uh... let's do...” Klardini panics, then casts Klardini's kreatures, his own variation of find familiar, to summon an owl named Hootini.
“Be my eyes!” Klardini says and closes eyes on his hands. The owl sits on Klardini’s head and looks around. With this technique, Klardini can let the owl see on his behalf.
“Well done. You are certainly calmer,” the butler says.
“And for my next trick… you had better change me back, or else!” Klardini shouts, raising a clenched eye at the goblin.
“Perhaps Princess Snowfall-at-Dusk could assist you? She enjoys meeting mortals,” the goblin says.
“Is that the princess in there in the kitchen?” Klardini says, walking back to where he saw the troll. He opens the door, and the troll is still standing there. Klardini grabs the troll’s hand and kisses it. “Good evening princess, I am the great Klardini!”
“That is Grimelgridge, and he likes to eat mortals, so I suggest you don't get near him,” the butler says.
“Well, as you can see, Grimmelgridge, I am immortal as I am over 700 years old!” Klardini says, backing up.
“We should leave. She is clearly a beard-brew,” Afik says, gesturing towards the troll.
Nobody knows what he’s talking about—but they hope he never says that word again.
Afik, Mox, Klardini, and Hootini trapse up the stairs, trying not to trip over the chopped fragments of Klardini’s hair. On the second floor, a bountiful feast is laid out on a table—roast swan, sweet fruits, nectar wine, and frozen desserts fill the room with nostril-tickling goodness! Several frost elves sit and stand around the room, lazily imbibing the meals and chatting quietly—they are bedecked in aristocratic garb, while a few are armed with weapons.
“Hi, Klardini, we finally found a good room!” Afik says, admiring the feast.
“Does anyone know where the princess is? We have an appointment?” Klardini says.
“She's upstairs you… whatever you are,” one of the nobles says, pointing to the staircase.
Klardini tries to slip past the guests—it’s a process…

The abomination and his attendants go upstairs and enter the most extravagant bedroom they’ve ever seen in their lives. A canopy bed with veils of snow dust and sheets of white wolf skins dominates the room, while a dressing table, wardrobe, and fireplace of melting icicles and blue flames line the circular walls. Sitting at the table is the frost elf lady that all those goddamned statues look like: a beauty of ageless, otherworldly design, hair the color of the winter sun, scintillated pale skin like fresh snow, crystalline blue eyes, and a flashing star sapphire bound in a silver cord on her forehead. She stands regally, benevolent, dignified, resigned to her fate—and she smiles at her guests.
“Oh, strangers! How do you do!?” she chirps up.
“Well... I’ve been better,” Klardini says. “As you can see… my friends are normal, and I am not.”
“Oh, silly you! You've been eating the goblin nightfruit, haven't you?” the princess says.
“Yes, I was asked to, and I am not a rude person,” Klardini says.
“Oh, that Griddlegrim is always doing that to new people!” the princess says.
“He has poor product description,” Afik says, feeling the warmth tingling in his belly.
Princess Snowfall-at-Dusk giggles. “I don't get too many visitors, so tell me who you are.”
“I was formally known as the Great Klardini! Maybe you have heard of my exploits!” Klardini says.
“And I am Afik Bonefinger. Look down here!” Afik says.
She looks at him and smiles and says, “Oh I see you, of course!” then she gives him a kiss on the forehead.
“... That felt good,” Afik says, a warm tingle bubbling up somewhere else in him.
“So what's the mortal world like?” the princess says.
“Right now it's pain. Can we talk about this afterwards? I promise you I love to talk—I will stay and talk with you...” Klardini says, his anxiety rising.
“I too love to talk but... but I have been abandoned, yet…” Princess Snowfall-at-Dusk says. “I know my love yearns for me still. I have been waiting these many decades. He was taken from me before our wedding night, but not even death can shatter my love for him…”
Klardini’s hands well up with tears. “That's the saddest thing I ever heard!”
The princess hands him tissues, and he just holds them while they get wet in his hands.
“What was his name, or her name, or its name?” Klardini says between sobs.
“His name was Sir Chyde, and we were destined to betrothal. My wicked father, the Cold Prince, tried to cover the Feywild in ice—but Sir Chyde and an army of mortals stood up to him. Now Sir Chyde rests in eternal slumber in the mortal world… but, can you go into the mortal world?” she asks them.
“Not like this!” Klardini says.
“If you can bring him back to me, I'll grant you anything you desire,” the princess says.
“You said he was dead, right?” Klardini says.
“Death can't stop his love for me. He still seeks me out, as I do him.”
“This is getting weird,” Klardini says, wiping the eyes on his hands and scratching the owl on his head. “You want us to bring his body back?”
“Bring me the ring that lies within his tomb, and we can be together and married,” the princess says, showing the ring on her own finger—a moonstone inlaid on a bronze band.
“We can do that!” Klardini says.
Princess Snowfall-at-Dusk runs at Klardini and hugs him.
“Can I get some food on the way out? I'm starving?” Klardini says.
The princess gives him full permission to eat his fill from the wedding feast. On the way down, Klardini grabs a leg from one of the roast swans and chows down on it. He makes a Wisdom saving throw as he does so… rolling a natural 1. Klardini contracts yet another curse onto his collection of curses—fey madness! Also known as fairy melancholia. While it persists, he has a 50% chance to suffer disadvantage on either Wisdom or Charisma saving throws on any given day that is not spent towards actively working towards getting back to the Feywild as he forevermore will yearn to return there.
Klardini goes back up into the princess’ room. “On second thought on leaving, that bird was the best bird I ever had, and I don't think I'll ever find its equal anywhere else in the world. I think I'll be accepted here. Y'all seem to be accepting here with the eye hands. Anyway, you said you wanted to talk?”
“Klardini what are you doing!?” Afik asks.
“I'm trying to talk to the princess!” Klardini says.
“Shouldn't we go get the ring?” Afik says.
“That doesn't seem appealing! Have you tried the swan!? You know Princess…” Klardini begins.
Afik heads downstairs, and he doesn't eat anything or touch anything. His hands are tucked away in his pockets. And his teeth are tucked away in his mouth. He leaves the creepy fairy tower with the pretty fairy lady and runs through the ghost candle passageway back to the crypt. He creeps around, trying to find some kind of casket with a ring in it—instead, he finds Varian!
“What is going on in this place?” Afik pants.
“Dwarf! Dwarf! I don't know what happened!” Varian says.
“You won't believe what happened to us!”
“What happened?”
“I'd rather not say, I'd rather show you. We gotta get this ring from some dead guy!”
“Sir Chyde?” Varian says, reaching into his pocket and producing a ring that looks just like the ring on Princess Snowfall-at-Dusk’s finger.
“Perfect! We can save Klardini!” Afik shouts.
“Oh Klardini? Hrm…” Varian says, thinking very hard. “Okay, let's go!”
They follow back through the glistening portal with the candles, and as they step into the Feywild, the sunlight hits Uther and un-petrifies him. He’s still floating in the air, so Varian tethers him to Afik for transportation—just like old times!
“Don’t let him float away!” Varian says.
“Hey, it's the steed! What's going on? I was looking for you earlier!” Uther says.”
“We gotta go save Klardini!” Afik says. “The goblin is over here too!” he adds, pointing to Mox, who has been suspiciously quiet this whole time, as though the threads of fate that dictate Mox’s actions were LATE TO THE SESSION.
They barge back into the tower. The goblin butler sees the two newcomers. “Hello, would you like to try a mushroom—”
“Don't do it!” Afik says, pushing them past the goblin and up the stairs. He then pushes them past the wedding guests and up some more stairs. He then pushes them into the princess’ chambers, where they see the princess having a nice conversation with the most ripshit mad-looking fuckup of the abyss… oh, it’s just Klardini.
“See, I told you guys you wouldn't believe it!” Afik says.
“Oh, hello guys! It's been a doozy of a day!” Klardini says.
Varian does a divine sense like his life depends on it, and the princess shimmers as old royalty. Truly divine!
“Princess,” Varian says, kneeling before her. “We just encountered the specter of Sir Chyde! And he asked us to deliver this!” He opens his hand, revealing the engagement ring.
Princess Snowfall-at-Dusk’s eyes widen. She reaches for the ring and grasps it. “What do you desire, and I can grant it to you,” she says, solemnly.
“Can all of our friends be fixed? Like, wake up Mox the goblin and unfloat the angel and... whatever this is!?” Varian says, pointing to Klardini.
Princess Snowfall-at-Dusk nods. “So shall it be done!” she says, and she raises her hands. Frost floods the room, washing over the adventurers—and one by one, they return to normal.
Klardini recognizes this as one of the most powerful magic spells in the cosmos: a wish spell.
“Ah, we should have wished that you weren't afraid of boat rides!” Varian says, upset that a reality-bending spell wasn’t used to give a dwarf the ability to not be afraid of the water.
“Wait, doesn't Mox have an inheritance?” Uther says.
“It's probably that ring we just gave her,” Klardini says, looking down at his normal hands with his normal eyes.
The dead ghost of dead Sir Chyde manifests next to Princess Snowfall-at-Dusk. They stare longingly at each other. The princess turns to her heroes and speaks, “You need to leave soon. Now that we are together, the tangent between the Feywild and the Material Plane is waning—our unrequited desire to be together is what drew our worlds together. Now that we are here, the bond is withering…”

Everyone books it like mad out of the tower and back through the spooky candle barrier into the spooky crypt and out into the spooky sacrificial altar with the spooky dead lady’s dead body.
“Let us leave this place!” Klardini screams, and they make a mad dash back to the boat with Captain Swamu.
“Does anyone know why this lady died?” Uther says, looking back at Briar-Anne’s corpse on the altar.
“Yeah, she wanted to!” Klardini says.
“I'm sure lots of guys say that about ladies but whatever, weirdo,” Uther retorts.
“I thought assisted suicide was legal in this nation!” Klardini says.
“Well, is it legal to loot her corpse?” Uther says.
Klardini snaps back at Uther. “How do you know her corpse was looted!?”
Uther thinks for a bit. “... Yeah, she chose to die!”
The temperature warms up as they flee, and the snow begins to melt. Soon they see the boat moored in the distance, and they run up the gangplank to meet with Captain Swamu.
“Hello Captain Swamu! You see that I look the same as I left!” Klardini says, standing normally.
“Nothing strange happened while we were away!” Varian says.
As the adventurers sit on the deck, they debate whether to return to Semnu Island or go somewhere else. None of them have any real ties to Semnu Island, and they have quite the loot haul from the crypt. They go through their looted gear and price it out with Captain Swamu:
Sir Chyde’s copper bracelets – 2000 gp total
2 silver candlesticks – 400 gp total
Black headband with gold embroidery – 5 gp
Weapons from the statues – 150 gp total
Book of stamped gold leaf – 500 gp
Silver holy symbol of the Archfey – 50 gp.
That’s when Mox sets down a bundle and opens it—apparently Princess Snowfall-at-Dusk let them leave with more gifts! A frosty scabbard, a fat mushroom, a mist-wing beetle brooch, and a circlet with icy-glass teardrops around the band. They also produce Sir Chyde’s sword. Klardini examines the items through his identify and detect magic spells to decipher them.
The teardrop circlet is given to Afik, since it protects its wearer from fire spell damage cast by an ally. The brooch of the mist-wing beetle is given to Klardini since it allows its wearer to teleport along with an ally when that ally casts misty step—which would also work with Varian’s fey step! Now when Varian uses fey step, Klardini can teleport along with him. The frost-coated scabbard is a pilgrim’s scabbard, which is given to Varian since, once per day, when a sword is drawn from it, the sword deals an extra 1d6 cold damage on its next hit. At the same time, a little ghost-bee flutters out of the scabbard and circles around Varian—he knows who this is!
The bee is the fabled Rumpy-Bumble Plumperton, a creature from old winter Eladrin fairy-fairy tales! Rumpy-Bumble Plumperton is said to traverse between the Feywild and the Material plane—but only if its friend succeeds on a Performance (Charisma) check DC 12. He flutters around for an hour, then disappears. Rumpy-Bumble Plumperton has no agenda—he also wears a little hat!
That’s it!
He also grants the ability to speak Sylvan while summoned, but Varian already does that. He just gets to keep this cool-as-shit, little, befriended bee friend from old childhood stories!
Finally, Mox sets his hand on a large goblin nigh fruit mushroom. Every time a goblin bites it, the goblin gains 1d6 Dexterity but loses 1d6 Wisdom and Intelligence for ten minutes. Sometimes it’s best to be fast and stupid.
Sir Chyde’s sword, however, is enchanted with a powerful, near-damning spell. The +2 longsword calls for its wielder to make a DC 16 Wisdom saving throw in combat or be compelled with haughty hubris to attack the largest or toughest target in the room—unable to willingly surrender until the target is defeated. They decide to add it to the list of gear to sell since it’s a historical artifact.
Varian produces the twenty holy wafers with healing capabilities and eats one—sure enough, he regains 1 Hit Point. He divvies them among his comrades, then produces the small statue of the goblin that looks like Mox—which he can only assume is Mox’s ancestor, Amoxi the Cold.
“Does it look valuable?” Mox says, examining it.
“I was using it as an Uther-weight!” Varian says.
Mox thinks about his heritage and his home, then turns to the rest of the adventurers. They need a base of operations, and here they are with plenty of startup cash. They also have experience with looting dungeons and fighting monsters.
“To Waterdeep…” Mox says to Captain Swamu.
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