In the dark of the noon day sun
In the Dark of the Noonday sun
A caravan wends it’s miserable way to the furthest reaches of the far North. It is nearing the winter season and it is likely that the caravan will be the last to go this way until the weather eases and the trade route becomes navigable once more. The route is best by storms, wolf attacks and hard dirty work moving stuck wagons, tending livestock and trying to keep out the shrieking winds. As the caravan crawls further north travels the temperature gets colder and the days shorter.
You’ve been travelling for over a month, leaving on the last day of Eleasias, travelling for a tenday up through the Spine of the World, then held for five bitter days at the North/South pass by a howling blizzard. The trek since then has been harder than you would have believed with the barren tundra offering no shelter from the frozen northern winds. Respite is in sight now though as Beorne Steelstrike, the caravan master thinks that you might make Bryn Shander by nightfall if everyone pushes hard.
This then is the story of those who traveled on that caravan and what befell them in the northern wastes