“It is surprising to see the people so merry with everything that has happened,” Igraine said to Halvard as they sat at a table in the Einsamall Inn & Public House.
“These are a hard folk,” Halvard replied as he ate a plate of sausages. “If they let every hardship defeat them, none one would rise to see the day.”
“That may be true, but these seem like extreme circumstances,” Igraine answered. “Why are they not out looking for whatever is attacking them? How can they sit here while whatever is killing their own is out there?”
“You forget where you are, Igraine of Eathyross,” Halvard snapped. “These are not the front lines of your army. These are people who wished only to be left to their lives. That is why they came here in the first place, to get away from all the death and all the fighting. Plunging headfirst into battle is not their natural reaction.”
He downed his ale and got up from his seat.
“Excuse me,” he said. “I need to stretch my legs and get some air.”
Igraine excused Halvard. Now alone at her table, she found herself looking about the room. These were indeed a hard and hearty people. The harshness of Einsamall did not allow them to be anything else, but Halvard was right - they were not soldiers. They knew how to handle hardships brought on by the weather or local predators, but whatever was attacking them now was beyond these normal threats. There was a monster in Einsamall, or at least that is what the evidence pointed towards.
“Watch where you are going!” roared a deep voice over the din of the room.
Igraine turned and saw her party’s paladin standing face to face with an angry Tundra Orc. The orc’s body was draped in fur and bones while a pair of gnarled wooden horns rose from the sides of his dark steel helmet.
“Calm down, friend,” said the paladin as he put his hands up before him. The orc slapped them away.
“I am not a friend,” the orc spat. “And you are a long way from home. Lions do not come this far north.”
All had gone quiet and everyone was staring at the boisterous orc as he looked about the room.
“The lion is far from his den, and so is the snake, and the eagle, and deer. None of them know the North!”
“But the bear does,” Halvard replied, making his way from the quieted crowd of the inn and into the center of the room. His hands were free of any weapons, but an axe hung as his hip and he was read to draw it should the need arise. "Do not doubt the words I speak, orc. Despite this lot that I travel with, trust that the bear knows the North as well as any."
“J’akull Ironbones! Behave yourself!” Burris chastised the orc. “They are here by my invitation and I would have you show some respect!”
The orc spat on the floor in front of the gnome’s feet.
“You are not my leader! I do not take no orders from you!”
“You are allowed here in Einsamall only by our consent!” the gnome shot back. “You are not the only hunter around. Where will you trade your kills if we close our doors to you? What do you think of that?”
The orc named J’akull snarled but did not reply.
“There is no need to fight,” the paladin said as he reached out to pat the orc on the shoulder. “We are here to save you. You should be thanking me and my friends, not picking a quarrel with me.”
The orc tightened the grip on the bone weapon he carried and used it to smash the paladin from Leandorr over the head. The big man’s knees buckled and he immediately fell to the ground.”
“But who will save you?” J’akull roared.
Halvard drew his axe and launched forward, but the gnome immediately stepped between him and the orc.
“Get out!” Burris commanded, staring up at the orc who towered above him. Despite the Tundra Orc’s clear advantage in size and strength, the gnome showed no fear at all and he did not back down.
“Keep your ale and your meat,” the orc finally said as he turned and left the inn. “And luck to you when the night comes! Death will be coming. Mark the words J'akull Ironbones speaks!”
The paladin rubbed the lump on his head and shakily tried to regain his feet as he watched the angry orc disappear into the swirling white snows of Einsamall.
Night came to the Far North and the adventurers from the Castle of Four Sides prepared for their first night in Einsamall. The paladin assured Commander Igraine that he was fine and that the orc’s blow had simply caught him by surprise. He refused to miss the watch and insisted that he would join the others.
Igraine assigned each of her fellow soldiers a position along the perimeter gates surrounding Einsamall. The main gate where their party had entered was the primary road to the settlement. At least one attack had happened there with the taking of the previous watchman, but there was no telling if whatever evil they were contending with was gaining access to the town by that path or from some other way. From their various vantage points, the heroes could observe almost the entire perimeter of Einsamall. If something came for them this night, they would see it, and they would be ready.
J’akull Ironbones sat upon his throne. Chiseled from the rock of the mountain itself, it sat inside of the deep cavern that the Tundra Orc claimed as his lair.
The orc tore a piece of bloody meat off of the bone he held, his latest kill providing him with his evening’s meal. He was the best hunter in the North and he traveled great distances to seek his prey. Einsamall needed the meat he provided, and they would regret sending him away.
J’akull tossed the remains of his meal aside and rose from his throne. He would not let this insult stand. He was J’akull Ironbones, and he hunt and would show the weaklings of Einsamall what they were up against. They would never forget his name - the hunter known as Old Ironbones.
Igraine had taken the patrol at the main gate. It was the most accessible route into the settlement and therefor the most likely to be attacked, so as the leader of this mission, that is where she set herself.
The night had been quiet thus far and Igraine found her eyes growing heavy. She was a solider and she was disciplined, but she knew that she needed to sleep soon. She questioned whether they should have rested after speaking with the Mayor, before they set out for the night’s watch. It made sense in retrospect, but there was no way to change that decision now. Night was upon them and sleep was far away.
A blood-curdling scream cut through the night, immediately jolting Igraine alert and driving any weariness from her bones.
“Help!” came the scream. “Help me!”
Igraine jumped down from the watcher’s platform and ran towards the screams. They were coming from other side of the settlement. She saw Halvard to her left, running in the same direction that she was. His cloak trailed behind him and he held his axe and shield in his hands.
“It is the paladin!” he called to Igraine. “Something has him.”
Igraine hadn’t recognized the voice at first, but the screams continued and she knew that Halvard was right. It was the paladin from Leandorr and he was obviously in trouble.
“What is going on?” asked the mage and the ranger as they came around the corner to meet Igraine and Halvard.
“Look!” said Halvard.
The large wooden fence that sat at the northwestern corner of the settlement laid before them. A tattered piece of red fabric with the golden lion of Leodysseus hung from the top of the fence and blood dripped from what had once been the paladin’s cape. The red blood stood out against the white snow below as it dripped down and slowly formed a pool at the base of the fence.
“Listen! He is still alive!” Halvard said.
Sure enough, they could hear screams over the wind, fading slowly into the night as something dragged the paladin away.
“Come on!” Igraine said as she grabbed a torch and ran towards the front gates. “We are going after him!”
It had been a dangerous plan, and one that Igraine had not fully considered. She had instinctively reacted to the loss of someone under her command. She had seen many of her fellow soldiers fall in battle, but this was her first true command, and as such the first of her own troops who had been lost.
In the end, the decision to pursue whatever had taken the paladin was inconsequential. They did not find their fellow traveler, nor did they encounter whatever had taken him. As the sun began to rise, the heroes returned to Einsamall, alone.
Continued in Part 5: Bylur Frostfurr
Published on 07.24.25