Beyond Trollheim, by Nestor Peregrine
There are many stories and histories among the dwarves about the mountains beyond Trollheim, all of which tell of great secrets and wealth lying buried for aeons. Now I’ve never been able to resist the lure of the unknown, which is the reason that I’ve explored the length and breadth of Gielinor, so rumours that an ancient temple had been discovered north of the Death Plateau had me jumping to get out there and see for myself.
The journey into the mountains was uneventful, save for the amount of time I had to spend finding a reasonable route into the mountains. My first attempt took me to the west of the Ice Path, journeying through the ice gate, but I was thwarted by a huge snowbank, which I couldn’t find any way over. I had no desire to pass any pesky trolls, so once again I took the long route.
This time I travelled deep into that blighted landscape that is called the Wilderness, only to be thwarted by a steep cliff. At one point I found some purchase in the rock face, but my attempts were futile and I was forced to abseil down the cliff to try a different approach.
My third attempt was from the south. I snuck past the trolls under cover of darkness and eventually found a small valley that was blocked by rockfall. Fortunately, my small size allowed me to squeeze between the rocks in the avalanche debris and I found myself beset by starving wolves. I fled from them and found signs of an ancient battle, mostly hidden by the snow. The ruins seemed to indicate that a great palace or temple once stood there, but time and events had taken their toll and there was naught but rubble left.
Exploring the area, I found a massive pit where the ground had collapsed, so I tied off my rope and descended, hand over hand, into the maws of hell. Below the ruins was a massive cave, stretching as far as the eye could see and filled with all manner of demons, goblins and strange birdmen, all locked in mortal combat. As I watched, a small battalion of orks surrounded and slew a demon, but were then themselves besieged by a pack of hellhounds! I am an explorer, not a warrior, so I left the same way that I had come, taking my rope with me so that none of those monstrosities could escape their prison. If there WAS treasure or gold to be found in those ruins the risk was not worth the reward, although some may argue with me.
One other incident bears remarking upon; while leaving the mountain peaks I stumbled upon a small group of undead trolls, marching northwards. All I can say is that trolls are even stupider dead than they are alive, for they did not see me at all – even though I was hiding behind some rubble, only feet from where they marched.
I feel that my next journey should take me in a different direction completely. Word has come to me that the poisonous swamps, far to the southwest, may be traversable, which is something I cannot help but explore. Even now I can feel a tingling wanderlust.