The group, now with pockets jingling from their delve into the Temple of the Crushing Wave, found an unexpected boon: a rejuvenating fountain in the north-east corner, which invigorated them as if they'd taken a short rest. Deciding to push onward, they ventured north through a long, earthen corridor, a journey of almost 20 minutes before light finally broke through.
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| Discovered Areas from the Temple of the Black Earth |
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| A Bulette |
Instead, they turned left into a crumbled corridor running north and south, both ends now blocked. Ahead, a set of double doors bore crude painted messages: "NORBS RUM! KEEP OWT BROOG!" on one, and "BROOGS RUM! NORB IZ STOOPID!" on the other. Pushing the doors open revealed the answer to the identity of these feuding idiots.
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| An Ettin |
Like many before them, the Ettin regretted their decision, though they provided a running commentary on their demise: "Ouch! Dis one got a sharp fing!" and "Das nuffin', dis one is like hittin' a metal box!" Eventually, realizing their fighting skills weren't up to par, the colossal pair keeled over with a loud thud.
After looting the Ettin's meagre worldly gains, the group continued north to a corridor running east and west. The chasm still cut through the earth to the east. To the west, another room (13) housed a large, rectangular marble basin filled with clean water. Its walls were adorned with carvings depicting ancient Dwarves hunting deer, bears, and fowl—a stark contrast to modern Dwarven life.
Heading east, Bessok decided to scout the chasm, flying down its 200-foot depth. He found nothing but rocks and stone, no lurking beasts. However, to the north-west, he spotted light from an active forge (15), manned by two Duergar and a creature called a Dao.
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| A Dao |
Deciding these were their next targets, they set an ambush: the main group would charge through the door, while Joe would fly over the chasm from the east, raining arrows and fireballs. Moving into position, Joe unleashed a fireball that instantly turned the Duergar into dust. The rest of the team rushed in to assault the Dao.
The Dao reacted by conjuring a solid wall of stone, blocking any further attacks from Joe's direction. Shrugging off a few hits, it decided to thin the attacking numbers, pointing a hand at Rowan. Behind the rogue, a glowing portal of light opened, sucking him in with a flash and a pop. Rowan was gone!
Gark, transforming into a giant crocodile, seized the Dao in his massive jaws, crushing it. Seeing the futility of continued resistance, the Dao transformed into a faint mist, drifting downwards and disappearing into the earth.
The short battle was over, but they had lost a vital member: their rogue, their scout, their perceptive eyes. Continuing with just three members felt like a death sentence given their recent encounters, and the Dao's disappearance meant it could be summoning reinforcements. Retreat was the best option. The group retraced their steps, through the Temple of the Crushing Wave, into their boat, and back to the surface where their Hippogriffs awaited.
Meanwhile...
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| The Outlands |
One moment, Rowan was battling in an ancient Dwarven dungeon; the next, he found himself in an entirely different reality. He was on a circular, flat world with a colossal spire in its centre, a torus-shaped structure slowly circled the very tip of the spire. Behind him, the world ended abruptly, a sheer drop into infinity.
Unsure what to do, he waited for an hour, then two. His friends didn't appear, nor did they contact him. It was time to explore. The nearest settlement was a distant, star-shaped area called Tradegate. Given his past, it was a natural fit. He realized he needed to "grease some palms" to escape, but quickly discovered the local currency was entirely different from the gold and silver he was used to. He was back to square one, taking pointless odd jobs to earn coin, which soon escalated into bigger tasks for the many merchants of Tradegate.
Days turned into weeks. Finally, Bessok's familiar voice echoed in his mind via a Sending spell, asking where he was and if he was alive. Rowan's response was filled with surprise—what had taken them so long? It had been days since his arrival. It seemed time flowed differently in this new place; a few minutes in the dungeon had been days for him. He wouldn't fully grasp the time dilation for another hour, as Bessok's swift response only further distorted the perception. Realizing a rescue might take months, if not more, Rowan dedicated himself to finding a way out. He needed to reach the torus-shaped structure on top of the spire, a place he learned was called Sigil, though only a few in the Outlands knew how to get there.
Days became weeks, then months, as the rogue made contacts and amassed enough of the strange new currency to finally reach Sigil. There was no direct route from the Outlands; he was guided from one plane of existence to another, eventually stepping through a final portal into the bizarre land of Sigil.
If the Outlands were strange, Sigil was off the charts. Every imaginable race and creature coexisted in its streets, bars, and gatherings. Devils and Angels debated philosophy at a tavern, fire elementals danced with water elementals, and unlikely groups of adventurers planned their next excursions.
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| The Strange Plane of Sigil |
Settling into his new environment, Rowan started scouting local bars, inquiring about "The Zhentarim." After a few confused questions about "what type of creature might that be?", he eventually found a bar where he was assured he could find Zhentarim agents, when they chose to show their faces.
It had been just over a year now. He hadn't heard from his old friends but had made new ones—a strange group of adventurers from a completely different world. Their power level was far beyond his, so joining their escapades would be suicidal.
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| A Tavern in Sigil |
Surprised to see Rowan, Nalaskur approached, greeting him and questioning his presence and his friends' whereabouts. Nalaskur had errands to run but promised to escort Rowan back to Bargewright once finished.
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Nalaskur Thaelond |
More stairs led up into a maze of corridors, but Rowan barely remembered the path, should he ever need to escape to Sigil again. If the Zhentarim had a portal to Sigil beneath the Inn, it was no surprise they didn't abandon the location after the extensive flood damage. Entering the rather bland bar, a stark contrast to where he'd spent the last year, Rowan took a seat. Nalaskur placed food and ale before him, and Rowan offered his thanks.
And We're Back!
While Rowan was living a year's worth of adventures, the group (Gark, Bessok, and Joe) successfully navigated out of the Temple of the Crushing Wave and returned to their Hippogriffs. Coaxing Rowan's mount to follow, they took to the air, flying south towards Bargewright Inn. As they passed over the Cairn Road, they observed the forces from the High Forest still patrolling, but this time, there were no attacks; things had calmed down, perhaps due to the significant losses suffered by the cults.
Several hours later, the group flew over Bargewright, noting the impressive work the Modron had accomplished. Womford was now completely gone, replaced by clean land. On the Bargewright side of the river, a new dock was in place, with watermills built alongside for local farms. Bargewright itself was now fortified with thick wooden walls along its outer edges and a pair of watchtowers near the main gates.
The group touched down within the new defences. Their faces were now familiar to the guards, some of whom even waved as they landed. After stabling, feeding, and watering their Hippogriffs, they headed into the Inn, finding Rowan finishing his food, wiping ale from his chin. The group was together again!
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| Aldric Shadowveil |
Rowan's observation didn't go unnoticed. The vampire looked over, beckoned the rogue closer, and pointed to an empty chair. Aldric explained that one of "their cults" in the Dessarin Valley had attacked Triboar but failed. They had carried a box containing a glowing orb, which was subsequently seized by the Lord Protector and stored in her vault. The bad news? That same box and orb were now being auctioned off by a thieves' guild in Yartar.
The implication was clear: this was the same type of item that had destroyed Womford and nearly levelled Bargewright. If unleashed in a major city, the death toll would be horrendous, not to mention the severe impact on the Zhentarim's operations and bottom line.
Aldric formally requested the group fly quickly to Yartar to disrupt the auction, secure the item, and ensure it didn't fall into the hands of fanatics or terrorists. They would be well compensated upon their return. Free rooms for the night were offered, with instructions to depart in the morning—a morning that would be slightly groggy after a late-night celebration with Rowan.
Back on their Hippogriffs, the group took to the air. Given the long journey to Yartar, they decided on a slight detour to Feathergale Spire to investigate its fate. The flight was long enough that the sun was setting by the time they arrived, their tired Hippogriffs eagerly landing and stretching their massive wings.
Feathergale Spire was in ruins, clearly the victim of a targeted earthquake. A large crack ran beneath its foundations, causing it to topple into the valley. Nearby, they found the bodies of dead Gnolls and Hyenas, some being picked at by hungry vultures they had to scare away.
With his medical knowledge, Bessok noted that most Gnolls had been killed by solid fists, though a few had been cleanly cut in half by massive claws. Among the bodies, two Gnoll statues, frozen in a fighting stance, presented a curious sight that made Bessok consider buying a polished shield, pondering if a Medusa was the cause.
Rowan pulled out his small metal box, tossing it to the ground. A large metallic watchtower flashed into existence, providing them with a secure place to rest overnight. A good supper, a few drinks, and then it was off to sleep, with only the watch awake. Even the Hippogriffs slept comfortably on the ground floor.
As Gark's watch ended, the rains began, steadily growing heavier. The Druid headed to bed with a hint of concern. Joe was on watch next, taking to the battlements as the rain turned torrential, reminding him of the downpour that hit Bargewright days ago. Pulling his hood tighter, a face materialized out of the rain—a face as large as Joe himself, floating in the night sky.
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| The Face in the Rain |
The group was roused by Joe's shouts and another lightning strike that shook their fortress. Bessok was first up the trapdoor, climbing onto the battlements into the torrential rain. The huge water face stared down at him. Another lightning bolt flashed down, but the Dwarf raised his shield, catching it squarely. Sparks flew as the electricity harmlessly discharged through his plate armour into the ground. Looking around, he saw eight glowing balls of light at the very edge of his vision, barely visible through the rain. Each started blinking out randomly: one, two, four, five...
Gark and Rowan descended the inner ladder to the ground floor. Gark stepped outside into the rain, looking up at the watery face. As a Druid, he recognized the spell calling down the lightning, and perhaps even causing the rains. He reached skyward, casting a spell to counter the magical effects. As Gark's spell hit, the face in the rain pulled back and disappeared, the thunder and lightning ceasing. His guess about the lightning's source was correct. Behind him, however, one of the Hippogriffs let out an uncomfortable squeal of pain, followed by a thud as its body collapsed.
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| Will-O-Wisp's |
The Wisps didn't last long. Nothing ever does when this group of adventurers focuses. They worked seamlessly, despite their small numbers compared to a typical adventuring party. As the dust settled, Bessok called upon his God's strength, breathing life back into the Hippogriff. It blinked its large black eyes in surprise as it awoke, then leaned its massive head onto the Dwarf's shoulder in a strange display of affection.
Wanting to identify the attacker, Bessok performed a Divination, asking his God for answers. The response was the name "Gar Shatterkeel" and the ominous phrase, "The path you were traveling would have taken you directly to him." The exact path was open to interpretation, but Bessok believed he knew which one it was.
Now able to rest despite the lingering rain, Joe returned to his watch while the others slept. As the sun rose, the rains receded, leaving widespread puddles and flooding. As they took to the skies, they saw the full extent of the damage, thankfully confined to uninhabited areas.
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| Map of the City of Yartar |
The flight to Yartar consumed the rest of the day, the sun again setting as they landed on the city's outskirts. The group found a farm willing to care for their Hippogriffs, rested for the night, then journeyed into the city the next morning. Splitting up, Joe ventured into the city alone, his Hat of Disguise allowing him to change appearance repeatedly, working like a seasoned undercover agent.
The rest of the group inquired about lodging and, upon revealing their adventurer status, were directed to The Happy Hall of Fortuitous Happenstance, a temple to Tymora, the Goddess of Luck. It was an open house for adventurers, offering free stays for up to ten days. A noticeboard displayed job offerings, most below their current pay grade, though one, offering thousands of gold for the heads of Werewolves, including a Giant Werewolf, caught their interest. They'd revisit that after their current problem.
With Rowan's contacts in the criminal underworld, he quickly discovered the auction's location: The Wink & Kiss tavern, on the southern side of the major marketplace. Joe, through his own investigations, independently confirmed the same information. With Joe slightly ahead, they all converged at the tavern. Joe remained hidden, his appearance altered to blend with the locals, while the rest of the group drew curious stares, the locals not overly welcoming to newcomers.
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| Nareen Dhest |
At the same moment in the main tavern room, Joe spotted a woman acting suspiciously, glancing twice at the door the group had entered. She then exited the building. Joe rose and followed, tracking her to an alleyway, placing a ranger's mark on her to always know her location. He sensed her climbing the side of the opposite building, heading for the roof.
Inside the room, Nareen announced the bidding would start at 1,500 Gold. But after asking how they knew about the auction, their answer didn't sit right with her, so she raised the starting bid to 2,000 Gold. Seconds later, a poisoned crossbow bolt shattered a nearby window and struck Nareen's neck. A look of shock morphed into sudden death as the poison took effect, killing her instantly.
Outside, Joe had tried to intervene. He'd covered himself in dust of disappearance, becoming invisible, and flew up to attack the woman as she prepared her crossbow. He loosed arrow after arrow, hitting her repeatedly, but she was tough and focused on her target. The crossbow bolt flew true. She then quickly shifted her aim to Joe, who filled her with a couple more arrows. The woman almost tumbled off the roof as her body crumpled, but Joe's quick reflexes caught her before she fell.
Back inside, the guards were confused, unsure if the group had set up the attack or if it was an outside job. Bessok and Rowan managed to de-escalate the situation. As one guard rushed to clear the bar, the other happily accepted a large bribe, revealing where Nareen had recently visited. He also gave them a key to something in a nearby graveyard, a key bearing the inscription 'NQM18'. He didn't know the exact location within the graveyard, leaving it to them to figure out.
As Nareen's body was carried away, Joe gleaned his own information from the assassin on the roof. She had a small notebook with sketches: this very location for an attack, the local graveyard with an 'X' marking a spot, and the Yartar waterfront with an 'X' marking a specific warehouse.
Joe brought his findings to the group as they left The Wink & Kiss, heading back to The Happy Hall of Fortuitous Happenstance to discuss. As they entered, Rowan was pulled aside by a Zhentarim member, engaging in an intense discussion that left the rest of the group waiting. Rowan glanced at his friends, a profound consideration in his eyes.
Aldric, the vampire from Bargewright, had sent word: he wanted Rowan for "something big," needing someone he could trust with those particular skills. Perhaps his time on another plane had shifted his perspective, or perhaps this mission alone made him realize he wasn't truly cut out for risking his life in ancient Dwarven ruins. Or maybe, it was simply time for something new.
Regardless of his reasons, Rowan approached his friends on the steps, explaining that he had to leave, that it was something he needed to do. Though sad, they understood that things change. They watched as the rogue walked off into the bustling marketplace, the throngs of people steadily swallowing him up until he was lost from sight.
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| Farewell Rowan, You Will Be Missed. |
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