As the party passes through the icy mountain pass entering into the valley of Spielburg, a distant rumble can be heard from far above them.  The sound starts distant and quickly rushes at them sounding like a racing train or the roll of thunder.  Those at the end of the caravan of would be heroes and merchants seeking a quick buck look back in horror as the very pass they had just taken begins to be devoured by a massive avalanche racing down the mountain trail.  Those who could make it rushed for the end of the pass but only ten such souls made it before the pass completely vanished into the compacted snow and ice.<br/><br/>Pulling themselves and the last of their gear free from the snow they find themselves at the edge of a dense forest on a cool spring day.  The temperature feels around sixty out but a dense fog has encompassed much of the forest.  A icy wind blows down from the pass behind them chilling them to the bones and beckoning them forward toward a small walled community only a half mile up the road.  Toward the community of Spielburg who's requests had lured many from their homelands, whether seeking honor, wealth, glory, or merely to test themselves.