After collecting themselves after their ordeal, the party made a brief search of the beach upon which they had mysteriously appeared. The sharp, grey rocks and icy cold water mirrored the unfriendliness of the clouded sky overheard. The smell of salt water and dead fish hung heavy in the air, and an almost palpable sense of death and defeat hung in the air.

But not all of the members of the party were disheartened. Ghrym seemed positively energized, eager to explore this new, soulless land. This was the land that he had glimpsed in his deepest dreams, and he was sure that the lost Ba'alstones - his family legacy - were to be found here. A faint, almost ghostlike sense of direction filled him when he gripped the handle of his ebon-headed hammer, and he spent many long moments looking out across the sea before declaring that the party sould set off in search of a port.

With their guide lost in excitement, and the Seeker Ekel lost in private despair, the half-elf and the halfling allowed themselves to be led along the beach, hoping to shed some light on their situation. Soon, the squat silhouettes of a seaside town appeared ahead, though no lights of welcome pierced the mist-shrouded gloom. Searching for answers, the party headed into town.

Right away, the sense of wrongness hit the band, as the only signs of life seemed to be the desolate, gaunt seagulls which had claimed the abandoned town for their own. Ghrym was not to be deterred, however, and sent Ekel and Brandon to search for a ship or other means of passage across the sea, while he and Leif continued their search for inhabitants. Their search proved not to be in vain, for in a small tavern they found a bedraggled man who identified himself as Ian Bradwardyn. The man, a former cleric by his looks, had been wandering the beach himself, only to find the empty town and no hope of escape from what he referred to as his "prison". Grim and nearly without hope, Ian accepted the offer of companionship over wasting away alone in the deserted seatown.

However, as night began to darken the already bleak sky, the true secrets of the town emerged. After finding a small rowboat, Brandon began to scrounge for supplies, his search eventually taking him to a row of large warehouses. Inside, in the damp, briny darkness, the townsfolk - or what remained of them - were gathered. Moving with the shambling gait of the undead, the town's inhabitants pursued the fleeing halfling as he rejoined his companions.

With a nearly solid wall of zombies driving them forward, the party found themselves with no recourse but to flee to the docks. There, they scrambled into the rowboat and pushed off, just as the first ranks of the undead stumbled into the icy waters. Heading out towards the blankness of the mists, the party rapidly left the docks behind them, but the zombies were undaunted. Grey, lifeless forms moved through the churning waters, relentless in their attempts to claim the sparks of life from their prey.

Then, out of the grey mists, a shape appeared -- a large sailing ship, anchored just off the shore. In desperation, Leif turned the boat towards the vessel, just as pale hands reached up from the waters to clutch the side of the dinghy. The party struck out with their weapons, but more zombies appeared in the frothy waters. Suddenly, a rope ladder dropped from the ship's deck; without hesitation, the party grabbed ahold and abandoned the already sinking rowboat to the undead. Climbing aboard, the small group fell to the ship's deck, cold, wet, and panicked by their ordeal.

All was silent for many long minutes, until rough hands helped the party to their feet. Gazing at them from across the ship's quarterdeck was a world-weary man whose haunted eyes mirrored those of the preist Ian. After another pause, the man sternly spoke.

"Welcome," he said, "aboard the Endurance."