The Deepwinter Vault lay in the shadow of the cemetery’s wall, just off one of the main paths. The vault’s masonry was cracked and stained with lichen, and vegetation covered much of the structure. Beneath the canopy of frozen ivy, the mausoleum’s outer walls were carved with depictions of a northern landscape cloaked in heavy snow. At the southern end of the vault, atop five wide, shallow steps, two large, iron-bound wooden doors stood slightly ajar, covered in a rime of frost. Siegfried wrapped his scarf around his neck twice to shore up against the bracing cold. Using his magical gloves, he inspected the doors for traps and found none. The locks on the doors had been broken open ages ago. The doors themselves were frozen fast in their frames. Erwen pointed at the ground around the front door. “People have been going in and out of here on a regular basis,” he told his friends. “These are old tracks, but there are a lot of them. Humanoids.” Bob inspected the carvings on the doors and walls. He noticed that the carvings were laced with religious icons from the Church of Auril, the Frostmaiden, and told his companions as much. Varien nodded. He was quite familiar with the worship of Auril, the divine embodiment of winter’s wrath and cold fury. He too inspected the carvings and identified famous landmarks from the Frozenfar. Varien looked over his shoulder at Siegfried as he prepared to force the doors open wider. “Why do they have this thing here?” he asked. “The Deepwinters were once a noble family, but their line died out two hundred years ago during the Guildwars,” Siegfried said. “They once controlled the Guild of Silversmiths and Gilders here in Waterdeep.” “Well, I knew that. Don’t know why I asked,” Varien said. “Were they from the North and came to Waterdeep?” “I can’t speak to their pedigree but it’s possible they hailed from the North, like you,” Siegfried said. “The fact that the Open Lord didn’t salvage their family is a bit of a scandal, actually. There is usually an attempt to marry off a surviving heir to keep the bloodline going, when push comes to shove.” Varien laid hands on the door and steadied himself. Siegfried fished around in his bag of holding and produced a battering ram. Varien rolled his eyes with disdain, lowered his shoulder, and put his back into it, straining against the partially-open door. There was a shriek from frozen hinges as Varien brute forced the door open. “No need for that,” Varien said as he shoved the door. From out of nowhere, a snowball struck Varien in the shoulder pauldron. The paladin turned and scanned the area outside the vault. Standing in the snow a few yards away was a young girl clad in a pale blue dress, her black hair up in pigtails, her cheeks mischievously dimpled. She was likely between the ages of 8 and 10. Varien gave the girl a wave. She waved back, somewhat shyly. Siegfried’s eyes narrowed. The girl’s dress was quite fine; something a child of nobility would wear to a formal engagement. However, he had never laid eyes on her before, despite several social seasons under his belt. “Hi!” the girl said brightly. “Are you friends of the family?” she asked, pointing at the vault. “Which family?” Varien said, suddenly suspicious. The girl rocked back on her heels playfully. “The Deepwinters, of course!” Siegfried cast protection from evil and good on himself. Varien stepped towards the girl. “My name’s Varien. What’s yours?” “Hi, Varien!” the girl replied. “My name’s Perdita!” “And your surname?” Varien asked. Perdita smiled and winked. “I’m going to guess Deepwinter,” Bob said. “How’d you know?” Perdita smiled. “Lucky guess,” Bob said. “Varien,” Siegfried said warningly. “Get ahold of yourself.” Varien used his divine sense and discovered that the girl was in fact a ghostly apparition that appeared corporeal until one gave a closer look to some of her finer details. He did not detect an aura of evil from the undead girl before him, rather something along the lines of childlike innocence. Through the gap in the tomb’s door, he detected auras of consecration and desecration. Siegfried nodded to himself as he recognized elements of Perdita’s clothing that he’d seen in histories of Waterdeep’s nobilities. Varien looked back at his companions, drew his sword, and squatted down beside Perdita. “I think it’s time for you to go home, little girl,” Varien said. “I agree!” Perdita said. “Have you seen my mother?” “Child, I think your mother’s been dead for a long time,” Varien said. Siegfried winced at that. “And I think you’ve been dead for a long time, too,” Varien continued. Perdita pouted. “Am not!” she said, stomping a foot into the snow without leaving a footprint. Angrily, she began to gather snow with her pale hands. Varien’s eyes widened as he saw her forming snowballs even as her ghostly hands passed through the snowdrift at her feet. “I’ll show you how alive I am,” Perdita muttered. Varien weighed his options. The child might be linked to this plane of existence for a specific reason, and he wasn’t sure if he could painlessly send Perdita on her way to the afterlife. “My mother is worried about me!” Perdita was saying. “She didn’t mean to leave me alone! I want to see my mother!” Tears sparkled like diamonds on her cheeks. Siegfried put a hand on Varien’s shoulder. “If I may?” He squatted down next to Perdita. “Hi Perdita, I am Erktos Thann,” Siegfried said, conjuring up an ancestor’s name in the hopes that Perdita might recognize it. Perdit sniffled and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her dress. “Have I seen you at a ball?” “You might have,” Siegfried replied. “Our parents are friends.” “Well, I think that means we can be friends!” Perdita said with a smile, brightening up. “Excellent,” Siegfried said. “Now, I don’t know where your mother is, but one of our servants lost something inside your family’s vault and so I brought some of my friends here to help me find it. Would it be okay if you showed us the way?” Perdita bit her lower lip. “I’m not allowed in there unescorted, my mother says it’s too dangerous, but I’ve seen them go inside before.” “Well, then let’s hold hands and walk together, shall we?” Siegfried said with a smile. “Yeah, I can’t go in there alone – I’m scared,” Perdita said. “But okay, Uncle Erktos!” She looked Siegfried up and down. “You’re taller than I remember,” she said. “I can’t go in there, I get scared too easily. There are bad things inside there. But I have to tell my mom where I’ve been. She’s so worried about me. I have to see her.” “Can I tell you a secret, Perdita?” Siegfried asked. The girl ghost nodded. Siegfried leaned down and whispered into her ear. “I get scared too.” Perdita’s eyes went wide. “You do?” Siegfried nodded. “And when I get scared, do you know what I do?” Perdita shook her head. “I look in all the dark places in the room, and decide if they’re scary, I’m going to be scarier than all of them. I get really big and tall and look down my nose at them, so they know I’m scarier than they are. And when I do that, I don’t feel scared anymore.” Siegfried said. “Do you want to show me how you do it?” Perdita nodded. “I just hide,” she said. “I’m sure I can help you find your mum, and she’ll take you home,” Siegfried said. “That sounds good,” Perdita said. “I’ve been alone for so long.” Varien cast light on Fiendsbane. “Sometimes mean people come to this place,” Perdita said. “They’re not supposed to go inside. I don’t like them.” “Do they wear robes and masks?” Varien asked. Perdita shook her head. “They are very. Poorly. Dressed.” “Commoners,” Siegfried said. Perdita nodded agreement. Siegfried twirled his axe to Perdita’s delight. “We’ve lost a family heirloom inside,” he said. “Perhaps your mother knows where it is, and we can be on our way.” Perdita sighed. “My mother Tasima is so great. She’s beautiful and smart and knows everything.” Siegfried hung on the girl ghost’s every word, eager to build trust with the spectre. “Do you know where we should or shouldn’t go once we’re inside?” “There are too many scaries in there,” Perdita said, her lower lip trembling. “I get so scared and turned around when I go in there. But I’m not scared now that you’re here, Uncle Erktos. You and your friends seem nice.” “We’re right here with you, so if you remember something just tell us.” Siegfried said. Varien stepped through the doorway, followed by his companions. They were standing in one-grand chamber that occupied the southern end of the vault. The room was unnaturally cold; a thin sheet of ice slung to the walls and small icicles hung from the ceiling. Against all laws of nature, it was lightly snowing inside the vault. From beneath the ice, faded frescoes hinted at the past glories of the tomb’s buildings. In the centre of the floor was the coat-of-arms of the family who once built this place: a snowcapped mountain with a large, stylized snowflake above and to the left of the mountain peak. A narrow door opposite the main entrance led deeper into the vault, with similar hallways leading east and west. Varien recognized the mountain on the Deepwinter crest – the famous dormant volcano known as Kelvin’s Cairn, which was a prominent feature of Icewind Dale, far to the north. He touched the ice-covered walls and felt a chill through his gauntlets. Around the room were the shattered remains of glass bottles and crockery, wads of trash, and the remains of a failed attempt to start a fire using kindling from outside the crypt. Varien pursed his lips and manifested a flame in his free hand, which helped to light the way and provided a bit of warmth in the cold recesses of the forechamber. Varien turned to the west, where there was a narrow corridor with stairs leading downwards into a crypt. He took the stairs. Siegfried and the rest of the party inspected the northern corridor. A door, frozen fast in its frame, barred the way forward. Siegfried turned to Erwen and produced a scrap of parchment he’d purloined from the Hall of Heroes that showed the form and shape of the Ettin Axe of Uruth. “This is what we’re looking for, Erwen.” Erwen nodded, concentrated, and cast locate object . He stood with his hands on his hips and looked around. “It’s not here,” he said simply. At the bottom of the stairs, Varien found himself in a crypt with two sarcophagi in the centre of the room, with another set of stairs leading downward into a recessed chamber, while a second set of stairs led to an open door in the northern wall. Both sarcophagi had their lids removed. Once, each crypt had been sealed with a plaque denoting the name of the deceased and the dates of their birth, death and interment, but the plaques had been defaced or destroyed outright, if the shards of stone strewn about the chamber were any indication. Varien frowned as he saw a bedraggled skeleton, still half-clad in funeral garb, that looked to have been dragged from its resting place and dumped unceremoniously in the corner. “Rude,” Varien said. Bone fragments littered the floor of the chamber, suggesting that robbers had plundered the place long ago. There was a row of empty wine bottles lined up on the lid of the second sarcophagus, and bits of naughty graffiti were scrawled on the walls. “Why would anyone use a frozen crypt for a party?” Varien asked aloud. As his eyes adjusted, Varien took note of a sickly yellow light that seemed to be emanating from the lower crypt. He sighed, but turned to the corpse. “Let’s get you back in your final resting place, yeah?” Varien said to the dead body. He gathered up as much of the bones as he could in his arms and moved to the open sarcophagus, noting that its interior was now also littered with trash, broken bottles, and stains, the source of which he could only guess as. He laid the bones carefully back in the stone box and moved to the heavy stone lid. “By Sune, this is heavy,” he muttered as he tried to deadlift the stylized stone lid back atop the sarcophagus. There was a scraping sound as he shifted the lid. “Who goes there?” a voice called from the recessed chamber. The yellow light flared weakly as the voice echoed. Varien sighed. “Varien Aether, first of my name!” he replied as he tried to move the lid again. “Find a friend down there, Varien?” Siegfried called out. “Come help me with this!” Varien replied to Siegfried. Siegfried entered the chamber. “I’m not know for my brawn, Varien.” “I don’t need your brawn, just your leverage,” Varien said. As Siegfried dutifully grabbed at the leaning stone lid, Varien whispered, “there’s someone down in that crypt yonder.” And nodded in the direction of the recessed chamber. Grunting, the two heaved the lid atop the sarcophagus with a grinding thud. “You’re welcome,” sniffed Siegfried. As the two pushed the lid into place, they heard the sound of grinding stone echoing from the chamber to the north. Out of the corner of his eye, Varien spied a hanging globe of white light drifting lazily near the entrance to the northern chamber. A will ‘o the wisp? He thought. Then he realized that the white light was spilling out of the hood of a humanoid figure that was shambling towards the duo. Varien turned to Siegfried. “Get back for the girl,” he said. “Protect her.” Siegfried heard the voice from the west call out, “Who goes there?” “We’re friends of Lady Deepwinter!” Siegfried replied. “Who are you?” “I am Lost!” the voice called back, echoing eerily. Varien descended the stairs in the direction of the voice. He was in another crypt with a disturbed sarcophagus. Standing beyond the coffin on a raised dais was a humanoid figure holding a long pole in one hand, from the end of which dangled a lantern that spilled out the sickly yellow light. In the creature’s other hand was a sword, and he wore a hood that kept his face in shadow. The creature swung the lantern pole around as if in an effort to illuminate any intruders. “Who goes there?” he called again. Varien checked the coffin before him. He could see a body at rest within the sarcophagus, but atop it was a rolled-up piece of parchment. Varien grabbed the scroll and unrolled it. The paper was of much fresher vintage than the corpse it was set upon. The eyes cannot reach you. So look away; for they can still see you. Varien used his hand-flame to burn up the parchment. “Be at rest,” he said and shoved the lid closed with a thump. At the noise, the creature swung around his lamp and stared in the vicinity of the coffin. The hood fell back from his face, revealing that he was blinded by thick scar tissue that covered his eyes and forehead. “Is that a challenge?” he hissed at Varien. “No challenge,” Varien said. “I merely implore you to spend your death in rest.” “Rest? Rest!?” the creature chuckled. “I cannot rest. I am Lost.” Three ragged figures shambled down the crypt stairs towards Siegfried, Bob, and Alec. They appeared to be wearing tattered winter gear – cloaks and heavy wrappings, but there were frays and gaps from which poured out cold white light. Beams of light also spilled out from within their fringed hoods. They raised their gloved hands and approached, silent as the grave. Siegfried looked at Perdita, stood up straight, and put on a serious face. Then, he unleashed the loudest orcish roar he could muster, fracturing the ice on the walls. “I’m scarier than they are, aren’t I?” Siegfried asked Perdita. Perdita’s eyes were as big as saucers. Azuredge in hand, Siegfried leapt into battle, blocked the creatures’ silent advance as he attacked. He slashed the creature in the middle, cleaving deep into it, and followed up with a second savage slash, adding a defensive flourish. The creature standing before Varien pointed the tip of his sword at the paladin. “You, who burn after reading. Are you here to waste my time? Because I have nothing but time!” “So you understand your situation, then?” Varien asked. “I have had an eternity to understand my situation,” the creature replied. “How about you?” “You called out for me,” Varien said. “What is it you want from me?” “I cannot atone for my crimes. I want to know if you can atone for yours.” “What crimes can’t you atone for?” Varien asked. “I year for death, but cannot rest,” the creature said. “I was a coward when it counted most. I forsook my vows. I did not protect the innocent. You may yet have the opportunity to do so. Do not waste your life as I have wasted mine. I forsook my vows, but I am still bound by honour. Are you an honourable man?” Varien stared back at the creature. “Do try to rest, then.” He turned his back on the creature and walked up the steps. Siegfried was bathed in cold, white light, which intensified into a blinding scourge that seared his eyes. He was suddenly blinded. Siegfried attempted to headbutt the creature who blinded him. Even blinded, Siegfried had the presence of mind to engage in his bardic katas, dodging and ducking the slamming attacks from the three creatures. “You think the light is your ally?” Siegfried called out. Alec hefted Oathtaker and rushed the creatures. The axe’s radiant aura burned the undead creature and infused Alec with new strength reserves. He swung the axe recklessly, missing with the first and second swing, but catching the creature with his third strike, slashing it violently, letting more light spill from the rend in the creature’s clothing. Varien walked up the stairs and from behind him he heard the creature shout “COWARD!” He turned around. “Rest!” he said as he channeled divinity and activated his Helm of the Regent’s Glare . A beam of radiant light blasted the creature. Varien quickened a destructive wave and let loose a wave of thunderous energy that knocked the first creature and the three light-emitting attackers. The creature leaned against his lantern pole, going down on one knee. “That’s the spirit!” it cried out. One of the light-emitting creatures was blasted into smithereens while the other two were knocked prone. The destructive wave made Alec’s hair and Siegfried’s scarf wave majestically. Violance trotted into the crypt and stomped one of the prone creatures. Bob twinned a toll the dead cantrip. A dolorous bell tolled for the two undead. One of the creatures shuddered and its lights went out permanently. Bob moved closer to the remaining creature. Siegfried put one hand on Violance’s flank, and the other on Alec’s shoulder, and violently stomped down on the prone creature, killing it. “Fight me!” the remaining creature howled from the crypt. “No,” Varien said. Siegfried walked back to Perdita and said, “See? Not so bad when you can make yourself scary.” Perdita nodded. Erwen padded into the crypt. “I’m not feeling this axe anywhere close by,” he said. Siegfried looked at Perdita. “Are there stairs down somewhere” Perdita shrugged. “I don’t know. I think the architect my father hired disappeared.” “Architects tend to do this,” Siegfried said. “I think my mom’s that way!” Perdita pointed north. As Violance feasted on the remains of the light-glowing undead creatures, Siegfried inspected the chamber they had shambled from. There were three sarcophagi, two of which contained the bones of a Deepwinter family member, but the third was filled with a corpse that was much fresher than the mouldy bones in the other coffins. It was the body of a young man dressed in labourer’s clothes. A badge on his chest marked him as a member of the Guild of Chandlers and Lamplighters. His pockets contained broken candles, and his body smelled of lamp oil. Siegfried took the body’s badge and made a note to send it to the Guild headquarters. Siegfried pulled out his wand of secrets and expended a charge. To his disappointment he discovered no secret passages. “Ah well,” he said. The party prepared to go deeper into the Deepwinter Vault.