Here follows a report of our journey towards Zigilgund starting from Ost Forod, the last safe haven in the north. Not that it is a place you would like stay long, but Master Dofri is welcoming and has a nice pint ready for the weary traveller. We started with a shipment of twenty ale kegs that needed to be brought to the cold north. The one road that leads north is settled in a valley surrounded by mountain peaks and pine trees. These mountains here are left untreated, who knows what treasures they may hold! Either way one needs to be wary for men and bandits on this part, for it wasn’t long as a group of them tried to cut us off. A host with bows wanted to claim our shipment near the gate towards the north. One does not easily part a dwarrow from his ale, so unfortunately this meeting quickly resorted into violence. I brought a large shield, my father had quite an arsenal of weapons on his belt and Throngur proved to be quite the marksman. Yet we did not get through it unharmed. We had to care for our wounds when we had a fire going. There are quite a few spots to set up camp upon the climbing road towards the north, where the first patches of snow can be found.
The next day we traveled further up the road, a climbing path where the amount of snow increases with every hour. At the end of our climb we found ourselves in a snow covered pine forest, cold winds increased and it was about the right time to use our fur travel robes. Throngur thought he could brave the cold with his arms bare, something he would soon after regret. We dwarrows are quite used to walk and live in the cold, but the cold in this region is something else. But not only the weather, the ice-bay is an accursed place, a place forsaken by Mahal. Some sorcery turns the sky into green fire, blue mists of unmatched cold and not forget strange ice spirits. Despite these oddities, the road was so far quite manageable for trade wagons, up till we found a new settlement. It was a camp where both men and dwarrow co-exist. We were hailed by a dwarrow who introduced himself as Plumehelm, was it? Oh I don’t recall anymore. There was no chance to go around this settlement with a full wagon, and we needed warm clothing for Throngur. So we had little choice than to talk our way through. The men did not seem very welcoming, so we decided to follow the strange dwarrow. He talked half Westron, and half something native. He first inspected our wagon, luckily we didn’t have animal hides otherwise we had gotten into quite a trouble with these folk. I managed to trade one keg of ale for a warm fur suit for Master Throngur, to the dismay of my father who thought all these icefishers were a bunch of halfwits. We received many warnings about angry spirits that may cross our path, quite unsettling. After the dead fields I was not comfortable at all, and also these lands appear to be forsaken by the maker. My worry was soothed by a crude crafted local amulet as a shield against the vile spirits.
The path continued through more pine forests. The snow grew thicker here until the path disappeared. There were many points at where we doubted which route to take. Around these parts the route should be marked for traders like us. We climbed through the thick snow up a hill where trees no longer grow. Once we were high enough the view was simply breathtaking. For hours we ploughed through the snow, the weather was on our side! But luck was not, our path turned in a very steep ice slide in what seemed like a deep gorge of ice. We unloaded all the kegs from the wagon. Ullfar and Throngur stood below the slide to catch the kegs as I rolled them down one by one. Four kegs we lost here. I cringed as I saw its precious content splatter against the ice wall, what a waste... Once the unwilling poney was tossed down, we loaded the fifteen remaining kegs on the wagon again, this ordeal took us half a day at least. We dwarrows need to dig ourselves a better road if we are to keep up this route, or did we take the wrong way somewhere? The ice gorge led us into an ice cave, where we set up camp.
The last day, what can I write? We found the icebay, and turned west from there. We were in luck as the weather stayed on our side and no snowstorm found us. It was a terrible long march over cold plains. There were no places to seek cover or set up a decent camp along the main road, and the evil ice spirits are everywhere! I saw them, blue wolf like apparitions with wolf heads or white cold lights that may freeze your beard clean off! Throngur saw them too, but my father had enough of our so called ‘superstitious ranting’. He snatched away the amulet and tossed it away. Truly my father is becoming more blunt with each passing day. Hunger, the stinging cold, yes our mood was sour. Only the sight of high dwarf-make towers made our hearts jump. We reached Zigilgund! A sleep behind thick walls and a nice piece of meat is what we need now.
On a final note:
- The trade route is doable when the weather is decent but some parts need some more effort. More marking stones are required.
- The steep iceslide need to be dealt with for the caravans.
- We need to keep the local men and dwarrows on our good side, they can block our trade route if they have ill intentions.
- Outside the walls you need an amulet!
*Signed Hilfar
