Eric Vang's Quest of the heart

The Prophecy

The room erupted into a mix of gasps and murmurs, but the elf's expression remained stoic. He slid the parchment across the table to Eric. "The quest is yours if you accept it. But be warned, the Spine Mountains are no place for the faint of heart."

With a nod, Eric unfurled the parchment, revealing a detailed map with a red 'X' marked at the heart of the mountain range. "We'll need supplies and information," he said, his eyes scanning the map.

Elian pushed a bag of gold towards him. "This should cover your expenses. The Council has also provided you with a scroll of teleportation to assist you in reaching the base of the Spine Mountains swiftly."

The group took the scroll and the gold, the weight of their new mission heavy in the air. They retreated to a quiet corner of the tavern to plan. Axel pulled out a map and spread it on the table, pointing out the various paths and dangers that lay ahead. The townsfolk whispered among themselves, casting admiring glances at the young heroes.

As they discussed their strategy, Eric couldn't help but feel the eyes of the mysterious elf on him. He had never felt such a sense of destiny before. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. He knew that this quest was not just for their own gain, but for the fate of the lands they loved.

They decided to leave at first light, eager to get a head start on their journey. The night was spent in restless sleep, filled with dreams of icy landscapes and the whispers of the undead. When dawn broke, they rose early, packing their gear with a sense of urgency. The villagers had come to see them off, whispering words of good luck and blessings for their quest.

The teleportation scroll was a high rank artifact, and using it was no simple task. Elian had instructed them to read the incantation aloud while holding the parchment together. Eric took a deep breath and began the incantation, feeling the magic coil around them like a serpent. The air grew thick, and a cold wind whipped through the courtyard, sending dust and leaves swirling around their feet. With a blinding flash, they were gone, leaving behind the warm embrace of Freehaven for the unknown.

When they reappeared, the stark contrast was palpable. The warmth of the tavern was replaced by the biting chill of the Spine Mountains. Eric stumbled slightly, his eyes adjusting to the sudden change from firelight to the pale, diffuse glow of the snow-covered world around them. The others looked equally disoriented, but they quickly regained their footing. The mountain peaks towered above them, their jagged silhouettes etched against the leaden sky. The air was thick with the promise of danger and the stench of the undead.

They set up camp in the relative shelter of a rocky outcropping. Axel and Eric took turns keeping watch as the others slept, their breaths misting in the frigid air. The silence was broken only by the occasional howl of the wind and the distant echoes of something far more sinister. Despite the cold, Eric felt a warmth spread through him as he watched over his companions.

The journey to the lich's lair was fraught with peril. They encountered bands of the undead, each encounter more harrowing than the last. Each victory brought them closer to their goal but also drained their energy and resources. The mountain air was thin, and the relentless cold bit into their bones, testing their endurance. Yet, they pushed on, driven by the knowledge that the fate of the lands rested in their hands.

As they huddled around a small fire, Eric noticed a strange glow emanating from the map. It grew brighter, pulsing in time with the heartbeat of the mountain beneath them. The scroll was reacting to the presence of the lich, guiding them closer to their destination. He pointed it out to the others, and they all felt the excitement and fear mingling in their chests.

They followed the map's glow, which grew stronger with each step. The trees grew sparse, the ground more treacherous, and the air thicker with the taint of decay. Finally, they reached the entrance to a cave, its mouth gaping like a frozen maw. The wind howled through it, carrying the whispers of the damned.