The glinting eyes of winter wolves hostile to man ringed the bonfire set by the Heroes of Universal Platitude in the ruined courtyard of Balean Nakt. Unsettling as those eyes were, there was an understanding between the packleader Blackpelt and Iorweth, the Druid of Unquenchable Odor, and so the wolves kept other, worse apparitions at bay through the long starless night of Winter’s Finding. The companions rested fitfully within the hastily cleansed walls of the old monastery, recently occupied by the beastial worshippers of Dark Gods. The remains of those occupiers had been tossed in a heap before the front gates to be lit afire when morning came. Until then, the men of Delver’s Dale fought the shadows of fear from their minds and hoped no reinforcements would arrive.

They had been sent on this perilous mission by the Lady of the Lake who promised that she would cure the Accursed Prince Caradoc if only they would retrieve for her the Cauldron that had been stolen from her.

It had been a hard fought battle of nightmarish quality within the old dwarven redoubt. The initial assault had been relatively easy due to an uneasy alliance with Blackpelt, but then, in the cellars beneath, things had gotten squishy. The final showdown with the dark priestess Griznak the Corruptor had been touch and go.

The feral beastwoman had many minions: hellhounds, a newly created Gnoll, and even a hidden ally in the form of a hideous floating brainiac-type creature called a Grell that burst forth from the ceiling to rain mind bending destruction upon the heroes.

Soon they would have their cure for Caradoc and finally return triumphant to the Black Eagle Castle to put the rightful King upon his throne.

But now all was silent but for the mournful howl of the wind.

The Cauldron of Selahine glinted dully in the firelight, now scrubbed clean and depicting the story of man immemorial.

Items found include the cauldron, the Lightning Lance, as set of Rune Tablets, and the Manual of Dwarven Lore among other more mundane treasures.