The mysteries of the Artifact Wheel are something the Gnomes tight lipped about even with the contributions of the group. They have the thanks of the House of Gears but are not welcomed in their doors. This is brushed off as city business investigating all that has happened. One might overhear messengers being dispatched through the tunnels to Vishinihienhuas to rally the House of Hooks. Gossip might be hunted down but no official statement is given to the non Gnome folk.
Few Gnomes have plumbed south and returned safely so little hard information is available. Some rumors exist that a ziggurat lies somewhere south but no maps have been etched. Some guides might be hired at the shanty tents just outside the city where Gnomes trade with the savage folk who dwell in the cold or the group can tough it out alone. Either way the path to save Garyson is marked with danger in the frozen wastes of the Forgotten Fields.
It is only a couple of days before the vast mountains that make up Under Country are out of sight, cloaking by whipping winds, fog and snow. It here that first resistance is met, a strange ooze creature hungry and cruel.
The first monster encountered is an omen to unforgiving nature of this land. The cold is a constant danger as are storms and the land being hard to navigate. A guide can help but even then only so much. Blizzards, freezing winds and sleet can all be expected to be endured. The chaotic nature of the Forgotten Fields immediately tells the group why so few Gnomes have knowledge of these unforgiving lands.
After enjoying the environment the group becomes victim of one of the mysterious denizens of the cold. The Yeti. The group is not way layed at random but stalked by an intelligent predator. Among the treasure from this encounter is a strange medallion that is slightly warm to the touch even when plucked from the snow. What becomes evident is that the Yeti was not hunting the group so much as pushing them in a certain direction. One of the guide’s dog, Jangles the Alpha was slain by the Yeti.
A trench opens up underfoot swallowing the group and heaps of snow. Awareness only marks how much damage the group takes on their tumble down. The snow and chunks of ice, rock and soil clump behind them pushing them forward into the halls. They can explore or set to weeks if not months of excavation if they even have the tools. The pitch black ruins behind them beckon. The Keen eyes of Phoebe saved the dog train from tumbling in. The guide and his dogs wait while the adventurers explore.
Regardless if a decision is made right away the group is greeted by some of the ruins inhabitants. Frozen creatures infected by the Negative energy surging through the ruined city. Four frozen skeletons moving with less speed normal skeletons do but with no less wicked intent as normal for the undead.
Narrow hall ways whip around to dead ends or caved in passages. Artwork is frozen to the walls in aged outlines. The stone bears on occasional scar from a blade or maybe in some cases claws. As the group reaches a fork they might see a pale flicker almost like candlelight in the distance to the right and maybe from the left they hear some thing heavy and slick being dragged on the ground in short bursts.
One way or the other the group ventures to the left stumbling upon a frozen Ghast dragging the freshly dead body of one of the savage folk who migrate around the Forgotten Fields. It seems focused on the corpse but charges as soon as the adventurers come into view. When the battle ends they find themselves before three closed doors and a sign in an archaic form of Common. Once the rumble of a cave in echoes back to them they decide to investigate upon their return they choose to explore the path not ventured.
The long hall to the right ends at a large market center with stone and some enchanted wood stalls swallowed by the caved in roof. Time has ground most of the wares to dust but some valuables survived in the ice. As the group approaches six of the frozen Skeletons rise with spears in hand and lurch into battle.
The door leading to the laboratory opens to a garden long dead. Pots filled with dust, the roof top collapsed where once light came in and to those aware beset with powerful Abjuration runes designed to ward off the evil and incorporeal. The door to the lab itself is locked but can be open opened with hammer if no other option exists. The tools of a specialist wizard are laid out in rigid order. Books on the treatise of the art of necromancy and the undead lay on shelves mostly unharmed. Beakers and vials are aligned in an orderly fashioned by size filled with ruined components and long inert potions. Half finished magical items lay haphazardly around the lab. Secrets lay in wait too for the perceptive.
The center door leads down a hallway with freshly lit candles in the candelabrum and clean chairs lining the walls notated for petitioners awaiting meetings. The chamber room is likewise clean and well ordered unlike the rest of the ruins. A cloaked figure sits at the head chair over looking the entrance from a good two hundred feet away. “You! More rebels? Have I not crushed your movement! Does the peace of Kret not inspire you to yet lay down your arms? I have done what was besought of me and I will not have my reward stripped so soon! Guards!” and the figure leaps up and flees as a Shadow rises from the center of the chamber. Once the combat is over the group may find books with their writing mostly faded. In one however, “Councilman Daedalon is hereby stripped of title and property by the city of Kret for high treason and conspiring with extra dimensional forces.”.
The only door out leads into a hallway the opens for ten feet before being filled with cave in rubble. When penetrated the illusion fades and reveals a large section of a residential portion of the city beset by ruin. Days can be spent exploring the area but aside from make shift shelter nothing of value exists.
Opposite the chambers is a door that leads to a large room with a translucent roof. Alien markings are etched into the wall glowing a sickly yellow. Stairs leading up into what appears to the the snowy landscape stretch upward at the far end. Cackling madly between the door and the stairs is Daedalon, lesser worm of the cursed cosmos.