The Gathering Storm

Summary of Events (11/6/2025):
11/27/4722

In the city of Lepidstadt… a letter arrived. Six invitations. Written in handwriting both elegant and hurried—as if penned in three different moments of time that happened to overlap.

Professor Sabine von Wriedt called them to the newly founded Limina Foundation. Born from the ashes of betrayal. The International Consortium of Epopts had collapsed in scandal. Dr. Etward Ritalson, once trusted, now revealed as corrupted. He had fled north toward the Crown of the World, pursuing dark bargains with entities that whispered of cold and hunger.

In the warehouse district, they gathered. Hugh Mannshield, warrior of the dead lands. Shakum, the Orcish sorcerer who commands fear itself. Jotaro, bound to a spirit of righteous fury. Kong, the Tengu who bends elements to his will. Nadja, the Poppet witch, searching for scattered pieces of herself. And Sweetback Willie, the goblin who negotiates from the end of a rifle barrel.

They knocked on a door, a gnome answered. Finnwick Goldwhistle—lawyer, unwilling doorman, perpetually harried. “You can’t come in without an invitation!”

Invitations were produced and he led them to Professor Sabine von Wriedt. A woman who exists slightly out of phase with time itself. Her words tumble over each other—past, present, and future intertwined. She speaks of chairs that remember being trees and time as a tangled thing.

Eventually she got to the hear of the matter. Dr. Morgrim vanished eleven weeks ago on Lake Prophyria. Investigating a fog and islands that shouldn’t exist. One message sent—then silence.

Two teams dispatched. The first ship returned empty. One word carved desperately into the mast: “CHOSE.” The second team sent seven weeks ago. Their final message spoke of impossible fog. Hungry fog. Then nothing. Not even a ship remained.

“We do not abandon our own,” Professor Wriedt declared.

The offer: Two hundred gold upon success. Fifty in advance. One hundred bonus for a comprehensive report. Letter of credit. Passage on the riverboat Cestus with Captain Wasserman. Communication pendant. And their handler—Rolf. Enthusiastic. Eager. Ready for a nice desk job after Magnimar’s chaos.

First stop? The Taume und Feen Library. Where previous teams researched before vanishing. “Ask for Henrik Voss. Mention the Ghost of the Fae if he hesitates.”

Then came the walk through Lepidstadt. Snow fell. The color of old iron. Muting sound. Dampening life. The air tasted metallic—like before lightning, but there was no lightning. Only snow.

The perceptive noticed: the snow fell in patterns. Too deliberate. Too wrong. Buildings began to change. Streets narrowed. Alleyways vanished. Architecture ceased making sense. Buildings swelled—two, three times their size. The party felt small. Locked out in the cold in a child’s view of a cruel adult world.

Then—children. First a few. Then dozens. Shadows too large. Moving like broken film frames. Forming a loose circle. Tightening.

Shakum’s warning cut the air: “These children are not what they appear to be.“

The children spoke with one voice—a voice not their own:

“This is their world. The world they lived in before I saved them. Invisible. Ignored. Desperate. Now I’ve given them purpose, they give me power. Abandon this foolish quest. Walk away, and I’ll let you walk away. Or would you hurt these poor little children?”

Jotaro spoke truth: “Those are no longer children. Let’s put them to rest.”

Hugh drew his warhammer. Sweetback: “I’ll smack anybody.”

The voice laughed through innocent mouths: “Really? You would hurt poor children? You are monsters.”

A girl pleaded: “Please, accept his offer so we can go home. Please, it hurts. I’m so cold. I can’t feel my feet.”

Sweetback’s response: “No, bitch.”

“Fine. They’ll remember every blow, every wound, every spell—child killers.

From the children’s forms erupted shadows. Transparent entities. Shinigami-like. Death-touched. Speaking in unison:

“One, two, three, four. Cold children at your door.”

The snow stopped falling. The flakes hung suspended in air.