Easthaven was a busy town. People gathered in crowds to watch evil wizards meet their fate at burning pyres while fishermen ventured through the crackling frozen lake praying for next’s day meal. Townsfolk sheltered in cozy and warm taverns just so all the heat could leave the building as seance brought cold and treacherous spirits to the place. How I miss the good old city of Phlan.

Despite all its weirdness, the busy town had its need for adventurers like us. The city captain asked us to track down missing fishermen. It sounded like any standard job, go somewhere, find some of the fisherman belongings and get back saying that whatever I found was what was left of the them. It’s not like I’ll enter a Yeti’s den to save some perilous fisherman. So I hoped.

As before, I was in the company of the Small towering threat, a group of capable adventurers. Both Or’o, the goliath druid and Pox, the reckless gnome barbarian, were accomplished trackers and thus, finding the fisherman’s boat was no big deal. I thought that that would be enough to go back to a tavern and spend some well-earned coin but some of my companions did not share my morale. I wonder how such good-willed people would survive the streets of Zenthil keep, but anyway.

Our search for the missing townsfolk led us further into the wilderness. We fought starving harpies that looked at me and some of my small sized companions as delicious fat chickens, albeit carrying bows and sharp weapons. It suffices to say that the harpies would have had better luck attacking someone else.

There at a cave entrance we found the fisherman’s track once again. At this point, I have to say that I was curious enough to venture forth. Venturing inside a cave in the cold north? What could go wrong?

Although we knew that death lurked in the place, some of my companions were eager to explore the place, particularly Ranmorr. The drunken dwarf wizard stormed ahead of the party. I can only assume that his thirst for knowledge could only be beaten by his thirst for ale.

Ranmorr’s reckless awoke some sort of giant undead monstrosity from its slumber. We heard the creature break free from the ice and the rest of us rushed towards the fight. The creature’s ice maul swang through the air, crashing into the thick ice walls of the cave. I wondered if some of us would die by the creature’s weapon or encased under the falling ice. Thankfully, Or’o’s spell destroyed the best before it could do more harm.

We had little time to tend our wounds when we heard laughs down the corridor. This time, we proceeded more carefully. The hag was there cooking her stew. The air was filled with magic and illusion. The hag had something in her sleeve. Wreckage, the goliath artificer, and Ranmorr proceeded to parley with the fiend. The rest of us noticed the fishermen’s belongings, ; it seems that she had them for spices. Approaching the hag, Wreckage and Ranmorr tried to shove the boiling cauldron over the hideous creature. However, they lacked the strength to do so and. Noticing our ill intentions, the hag decided to add us to her stew. Honestly, some of us don’t look that tasty, though.

It was a fierce battle, the hag hurled spells and hexes at us. She summoned will’o’wisp entities from the Shadowfell in her assistance and all of a sudden, we were surrounded. I feared for Wreckage’s life as she took several lightning blasts from the wisps, but Magnus spells could break through the wisps’ resistances while Or’o burnt the hag with his druidic flames.

Pox was the one to collect mementos from the fisherman. His gesture gave me some reassurance that there was still kindness in the cold frozen north. We had to return to Easthaven with the unfortunate news. The fishermen’s disappearance would serve as bonfires tales warning others not to dare curiosity. Nonetheless, we adventurers earned our coin.

Details were omitted and/or modified, so I don’t spoil much of an official Adventures League game. I am not a native speaker and this is a small exercise to improve my writing. Please be kind.