eotenheim session report 19/3/26
My Lord, it is Frigedaeg, and summer is around the corner. I journeyed to the Wolf's Head Cave on Wodnsdaeg. These were the Wulfashéafdu with whom I spoke:
- Hrothgar, the Aelfcynn spear terror
- Ethelred, the Eordwerod scynnlaeca
- Ikern brokenshield, the Dweorgas death dealer
- Gilthur, the Friscan curate.
They brought tidings from Eotenheim concerning the matter of the missing princess.
I had dispatched them a week before, as you instructed. In the foothills of Eotenheim they found deer droppings and clumps of white fur, which seems to confirm tales of the King's sister being bewitched into the form of a white doe.
They followed the spoor to a sinkhole high on the storm-soaked brow of Eotenheim. By their recount, o master, it is a fell place. They found halls of squared stone, finely worked, and a senile Dweorgas by the name of Lubok Fastbeard. Fastbeard took them to a second level, deeper into the heart of the mountain. They found more deer spoor and white fur, leading down.
Here the tale turns a shade queerer, my Lord. They found alabaster busts; giant heads, immersed halfway into the ground. The Wulfashéafdu say a whirlwind chased them away from the heads, into a grand hall holding a font of great size. Apparently wolves lived beside this font, but they were chased away. When they poured water into the font, my lord, the wall melted, or so they say!
Beyond the melting wall they say there was a buried longboat, as long as twenty men lying end on end. Inside there was a chest filled with glittering gold, enough to buy a kingdom. They showed me the handfuls of coins they snatched, stamped with the profiles of unfamiliar kings. If they had not shown me this, I would have called them liars.
If they are indeed to be believed, four skeletons laid at rest in the hull of that boat, each ten foot long and clutching a crown of gold!
But my lord, I am aggrieved to say it; this tale does not end with the recovery of the Princess. As they set out from the chember of gold and skeletons they were confronted by a dark one, a wielder of Gealdor who called himself Chetthe. He had two slaves with him: white-haired beasts that walked like men but hooted like cows. The Friscan curate called them "aeps".
By their account, when thr Wulfashéfdu refused to leave, this Chetthe summoned thunder from his fingertips, bringing Ikern and Hrothgar a hair's breadth from death. It was only with noxious gas from one of Ikern's Dweorgsic tricks that they chased the dark one off, coughing and spluttering. They then beat a hasty retreat all the way to the Wolf's Head Cave, where I found them some days later, licking their wounds.
My lord, if even one ounce of this story is true -- and I must admit to believing almost all of it -- then we must rally to action. The Eotenheim ruins may contain great treasures and boons. What's more, there is credit to the theory that this dark Gealdor, Chetthe, has the Princess in his custody. I worry for her safety. I believe we would benefit greatly from becoming the masters of this place before other Thegns learn of its existence, lest it be contested.
I have taken the liberty of rewarding the Wulfashéafdu's sweat and blood with a feast and some trifling pieces from your hoard -- pins and brooches of bronze and the like.
As always, my liege, I stand ready to receive your instructions. In a week or less, I believe the Wulfashéafod shall be ready for their next assignment. The threat of death does not deter them -- I suspect they keen for it, like hungry wolves.
p.s. The Wulfashéafdu made a map and took rubbings of some of the queer symbols from the ruin. Enclosed are crude copies for your perusal.
Your loyal servant,
- Jorru Adderfoot