Targos

When the party is ready, Ras calls deeply on his druidic magic to enact a powerful spell that changes the heroes' bodies to cloudlike forms that can move at the speed of wind, and they all take to the morning sky and leave behind all that remains of the Hand of the Seldarine - a charred stump of stone.

The companions have experienced the gentle flight of an airship and the felt mighty beat of a dragon's wings, but the thrill of this journey is something like they have never known before. Miles of trees and ridges whip past them as they run on the wind itself. The icy mountain wind that once assailed their skin and ears now speeds them swiftly along their way.

As the group travels, Ras cannot help but remember Aeri's parting words...

After merely a short time one of the cloud-like forms breaks away from the others, two smaller figures tucked close to it, as Halla and the cambion twins make their own journey to Kuldahar and the safety of the Great Oak.

The hours pass as the group continues on. Eventually they leave the peaks of the Spine of the World and continue on above the foothills, and then cross the tundra of Icewind Dale. From their high vantage they can barely make out several of the Ten Towns clustered around the enormous Lac Dinneshere: Caer-Konig, Caer-Dineval, and Easthaven.

In the light of the afternoon sun, they can dimly make out the skeletal remains of an enormous dragon at the bottom of Lac Dinneshere, and they wonder what might have become of Jhonen, the descendant of Aihonen, the slayer of the Heart of Winter, the great white dragon queen Icasaracht. Even Aerihykloarara would have been dwarfed by this wyrm in life.



Off in the distance, farther to the north, stands the towering lone mountain known as Kelvin's Cairn. To the south is another great lake, this one known as Redwaters, with a couple more fishing towns hugging its shores.

As the sun falls toward the horizon, they cannot miss the sight of Bryn Shander, the large town that acts as the center of civilization here in the Ten Towns. And well beyond it, a third lake, the largest of them all. Maer Dualdon.

As the sun begins to set, the heroes approach Targos. The northern side of the town sits on the southern bank of Maer Dualdon, and a thick wooden palisade runs about the entire town aside from the harbor, which is open to the lake.

As they draw closer, they discover that what they had once thought was night's shadow creeping across the tundra is in reality the presence of an army. It looks to be many hundreds strong, perhaps even a thousand, though it is difficult to tell in the fading light. Firelight springs up about the army as the party touches down on the parade grounds just within the eastern gate.

With Ras' spell almost entirely spent, the heroes reform amidst human soldiers dressed in the rugged attire of Targos militia. The soldiers bustle about, manning the walls, carrying supplies, and outfitting several small catapults.

When the party's presence is noticed, a cry of alarm goes up and soldiers surround them, spears at the ready.