Session 10

As I write this, I think: “But we did so much more than that!” Part of it stems from secrets involving in-game knowledge, and some of it comes from stories belonging to my teammates. After all, I’m only telling it through one point of view. It makes your realize how much you don’t know as a character, you’re just trying to make your way through the world.

Surprisingly we made it back to Stilt Town in one piece. One tired, frustrated and bickering piece. At the inn we spared no expense, each of us wolfing down meals, then melting comfortably into chairs by the fireplace, looking forward to actual beds.

Naturally, Maziel was the first to break the peace. “I’ve got business to attend.” She walked toward the door briskly before stopping. “And Taelim--”

“Stay out of trouble?” I finished.

The drow put a single finger to the tip of her nose, then headed out.

“She seems to be quite the enigma,” Zan said, looking after her.

I shrugged and sipped at my mead. “We all have our secrets.” Our eyes met and I stopped him before he could criticize. “And we’re entitled to them.”

“For the most part we share enough,” Klotonk chimed in. He was fiddling with a mechanical box on the table next us, squeezing tiny springs into peculiar compartments.

“Well, you aren’t the oddest group I’ve come across,” Zan admitted. “And the Sump’s been seeing a lot of them lately.”

“Hooray!” Cosmo cheered halfheartedly, cuddling with Barnaby on the floor beside the fireplace.

“I’m just sorry this is where we part.”

We all seemed to stop what we were doing to look at the monk.

“What do you mean, Zan?” Feeps asked, tilting his head so his feathered cap tickled my face.

“I had fun, don’t get me wrong!” Zan hurried to explain. “But like you said. We all have our secrets, and mine draws me away from Illium, where you folks plan to head next.”

“I’m guessing Maziel already knows.” I questioned casually.

The wood elf nodded once. He pulled out a yellowed map and unfolded it on the table. “This here’s Stilt Town,” his fingers followed a particular trail south. “You want to head to Freeport. That’s where prince charming will come get you.”

I scowled, but couldn’t resist matching his grin for long. I offered my hand. “Until we meet again.”

He took it and shook. “Until then.”

When Maziel came in that night, she looked different. Shaken. Zan had already gone, and only our group lingered by the dwindling fire. She pulled up a chair to an empty table. Klotonk was far too deep in a tome to be distracted, and Cosmo crawled somewhere in the rafters, Barnaby’s eyes searching various spots of the ceiling.

I leaned against Feeps who hummed a gentle tune, waiting for what I knew wouldn’t come. With a subdued sigh I got up and sat across from the drow.

“You look particularly peeved this evening, Maziel.”

“Taelim...” Feeps warned softly.

I held my head in my hand. “Really though. What’s wrong?”

The drow studied me carefully. I could see her lips twitching, considering the words but unable to form the order she sought. I sat back, patiently waiting, wondering if she might share her concerns or head to bed.

“What if I told you,” Maziel began, voice low and quivering. “That I met Lolth?”

My initial reaction was of course to laugh at the absurdity of it, but I bit my tongue. I recalled myself being saved by a deity I didn’t even pray to. Lolth did have a better presence within the drow community than most gods in their own, so I had no right to doubt. I clearly wasn’t a devout druid, tied to any nature god.

“Go on,” I said, tone neutral.

Maziel turned to stare upward, clearly spotting the snooping kender above. “My wish...she came to me because of it. Lolth knew, so we made a pact.”

“What sort of pact?” Klotonk asked cautiously, eyes peering over his book.

Maziel sneered. “For one year, drow loyal to her won’t kill each other, like they normally do…”

“And?” Feeps and I asked in tandem.

“In exchange, I won’t kill her.”

The room fell silent, and I learned back in my chair and whistled softly. Talk about responsibilities.  

It felt unusual to be on the road again, especially considering how much time we spent in the Sump. After everything we encountered. It was stranger still to know I was heading home, and bringing my circus friends with me. Literally. Mother was going to be so proud of my accomplishments.

The fastest route turned out to be a slender river that spilled into the vast sea alongside Freeport’s coast. So we rented a boat, and took turns paddling down the lazy river. As is natural, we found trouble. Feeps, being the largest and most conspicuous creature on the boat, proved an easy target for an ocean Drake. As we cruised along the river, the creature swooped down, and lifted him up as quickly as a passing shadow.

“Oh, nooooooooo...” Feeps’s voice echoed away as we all leapt up in the boat, rocking it and tipping it over. It was just enough time for Maziel to let an arrow fly and Klotonk to shoot out a spell. The drake shrieked and veered out of our sight, relinquishing its hold on Feeps who went splashing into the river ahead.

I hurriedly swam over, diving below to help bring my sinking furniture friend to shore. I grinned as water poured out from his harpsichord body like a walking fountain.

“My art is smudged,” the warforged lamented, and I laughed. I sometimes forgot he bore the horrendous tattoos from an untalented child with a paintbrush.

“I can always draw more.”

The crew caught up, having righted the boat and climbed back in.

“Hurry up, will you?” Maziel barked, sopping wet. “Before I hunt and kill that thing.”

We rented some rooms at a Freeport inn that sat with an unmarred view of the docks. This allowed me plenty of time to watch the waters, and decide whether or not I could back out. Too late now.

We cut timing fairly close, arriving just before the two week deadline Killian promised. We decided to take it easy until then, not bothering to take out contracts for eager adventures. So the adventure came to us.

As we finished up dinner, huddled in our own corner while rowdy locals and sailors filled the room, a peculiar trio stepped inside and caused a commotion that drew our attention. They were tall, gaunt figures, their bald heads bearing a crown of spikes from their skulls. Beneath their plain robes, their arms were entirely covered in bizarre linen wrappings.

The trio chatted up the uncomfortable innkeeper, quickly coming to an agreement after a sizable pouch of silver was placed on the counter. One of the female humanoids gazed around the room and her eyes fell on our party with evident interest. She leaned into her group, whispering to the armored warrior who then nudged the tallest--a male wearing an eye patch on his left eye.

After they concluded with the innkeeper, they walked toward us.

The tall one spoke in a raspy voice. "This one is Truth, of the House Ineffable.” He pointed to the female. “This one is Pain, of the House Exquisite.” He gestured to the warrior. “This one is Blade, of the House Indomitable.”

True to our nature. We said nothing and stared, trying and failing to discern anything about these particular people.

Truth regarded us. “This one does not prefer to waste one’s time. It bears the mark of the Black Snake, and the White Orb, correct?” His fingers swept across each of us.

Orb? What in the…? Oh, the Primordial. I guess it did resemble a black snake. How in the hells do they know we were there?

Feeps came to our silent group’s rescue. “This one does,” he thumbed his chest, attempting to politely imitate their speech. “But this one did not know that it was so obvious!”

The trio grinned, revealing a sharp row of teeth.

“Excellent,” Truth continued. “May this Three request an interview?” He hurried to explain after we exchanged glances around the table. “We are Inquisitors, Knights, Librarians. We seek stories and secrets.”

“This one is inclined to say yes. But first tell us: how did it know?”

Pain came forward. “This one’s story, raiment, purpose is to see eyes unclouded. It bears the mark of an Orb Chosen. But only the one, not the Black Orb.”

“There is a Black Orb? That sounds...frightening,” Feeps mused aloud.

“It has touched the White, but not the Black? What a strange creature it is! Is it sentient? What is it made of?” Pain rambled excitedly, drawing near.

“He’s not an it,” I interjected annoyed, forgetting my unease.

“He? Is that...a name, house, purpose? Define for this one, please.” Pain asked, then added, “This one means no disrespect.”

“Taelim,” Feeps said, patting my hand like a child. “It is their mannerisms. When they say “it” they mean “you”.”

I folded my arms across my chest and said nothing, waiting for the rest of the exchange to wrap up.

Feeps turned back to the group. “Well, I suppose that if there was a White one, there had to be a Black one too.” He cocked his head at them, addressing their original question. “Where must these ones go to answer its interview questions?”

Truth responded. “So, does it and its companions wish to speak with The Three in a private location? The Three have just purchased a stable to rest in.”

Again, we glanced around the table. For the first time in a long time, I felt annoyed with Feeps for putting himself at risk. In a secluded stable. With strangers who wanted to question us. And I wasn’t about to let him go alone.

“Yes! Stories and secrets. This is going to be great!” Klotonk piped up, practically leaping off his seat.

I could feel Maziel writhing besides me, and even Cosmo shushed Barnaby’s whines.

The Three turned to guide us out back, Klotonk practically skipping behind them with Feeps's centaur frame not far off. The rest of us trailed, checking over our shoulders as we went.

The Three rode Worgs, the massive snarling beasts dominated the stables, hardly friendly, even to their masters. While Klotonk and Feeps moved toward an empty stall with The Three, I neared the beasts alone. Maziel and Cosmo were gone. Typical.

They called themselves Incunabula, an ancient race of the Shadowfell committed to acquiring all manners of knowledge, secrets, mysteries and history. This often forced them into the role of scribe, treasure hunter and inquisitor to obtain what they sought. They kept history alive, all in the name of their god, Vecna.

The Three planned on journeying to the Sump, and since they happened to know that’s where we came from, they wanted information. Why we were dragged in the stables to do so, I had no idea.

“Be careful what you tell them?” I pulled Klotonk and Feeps aside, whispering as The Three waited patiently.

“Of course,” Feeps responded, hand on my shoulder. “My mouth shall withhold sensitive information, but for the sake of history and knowledge, I will share what I can.”

I nodded. “Just keep dad’s tower out of it, okay?” I paused. “And me, not like Ilium won’t find out, but still…”

“Trust me, Taelim.” Feeps said, turning back toward The Three and leaving me with the Worgs.

“Hey…” I tried.

Their alpha returned a half snarl half snort, and continued to watch our group with bared teeth.

Klotonk decided to go first.

Pain carefully unwrapped her strange bandages, giving one end to the gnome. “Memories will be...exchanged.”

Klo took the bandage reverently, the two closing their eyes as eerie markings seemed to glow on the linens. It happened quickly. Pain pulled back the bandage, inclining her head, leaving the gnome to shuffle away, his mind clearly racing with newly learned information.

The gnome stumbled toward me, regarding me and my clearly failed attempt to make new friends.

“They don’t like anyone,” I explained, as Klo moved to my opposite flank, away from the Worgs.

Feeps was up next, repeating a process similar to Klotonk’s. Still, it seemed to take longer, that or my irrational fears made me presume so.

When Pain pulled away from the warforged, a different expression came over her. She reached into her bag, and handed him a scroll. “A gift.”

My guardian took the scroll with a gentle smile. “Thank you.”
I watched The Three incline their heads, clearly content with what they learned. We left the stables and returned back to our inn, practically bumping into Maziel who materialized out of the shadows.

“That was...interesting?” The drow admitted, taking the lead.

“You saw?” I asked, glancing over at Feeps who seemed lost in thought.

“Mmhmm.”

A redheaded kender leapt off the rooftops and joined us. “Here I am!” Cosmo offered, clearly amused he too alluded our perception. Maziel looked as annoyed as ever.

We returned to our rooms, and hoped for an uneventful remainder of our stay. I should have known better.

“Taelim. Wake up and get dressed.” Feeps shook me softly.

I tried to roll away, but the warforged was used to this procedure by now, and began to play an off key tune on his harpsichord.

“Gods, I’m up!” I snapped groggily. Even through my half asleep state I picked up on his hesitation. “What’s wrong?”

“Get ready,” he repeated again. Worried. “Illium’s ships are almost here.” He paused, clearly contemplating what he should tell me. “An airship has already landed, and the Rose Knight is here…”

“Oliander?” I uttered in disbelief, rushing to get ready. Shit. The Rose Knight himself. An Eldritch Knight gnome, and the general of Illium’s army. I was either in serious trouble, or something was very wrong. Probably both.

Then we were there, part of the throng of people that swarmed the docks to watch Illium’s ships making berth. “This wasn’t the agreement,” I told my party in a hushed crowd. “It’s practically a hunting party. Where’s Killian?”
“Oh. My. Goodness!” Klotonk practically screamed, pointing at the airship. “I built that!”

I regarded the airship with wonder. I didn’t remember that belonging to my father’s fleet. It was certainly a wonder, and I couldn’t begin to fathom the ingenuity it took. I glanced down at my genius gnome friend and believed every word.

“I-I mean--the blueprints--I drafted them. I made the initial estimates, the specifications. I calculated…”

Then I drowned Klotonk out as he spewed on about algorithms he didn’t think were possible. Who had gotten his designs? Well, other than Illium. More importantly. Who finished them?

Maziel stepped up beside me as we. “So, not to plan then?”

“No,” I replied distantly.

“Do you still want to go through with this?”

“Yes, but, it feels wrong....”

Maziel pursed her lips. “Change into a wolf.”

“What?”

“Change into my companion, and we’ll take you to Illium.” She eyed me frankly. “Now! Before people take notice.”

I obeyed, sitting on my haunches and the ranger’s heels. She scratched my ear, amused. Just in time.

“Master Feeps!” A thin, unruly attendant bearing Illium’s coat ran up to our party, focused on the walking centaur warforged. His calls parted the curious crowd, making a clear path to our party.

“Castral!” Feeps called back cheerily.

“Master Feeps!” Castral cried, eyes brimming with tears. “It’s true. You’re returning to us.”

“Indeed, we are. All of us,” his arms swept across us, introducing the group as part of my entourage. Except for one crucial detail.

“But where is Princess Taelim?” He asked hurriedly, concern dawning.

“Yes, where is our princess?” A deep demanded. A fully armored gnome stepped into view. Alongside Illium’s crest, his armor was etched with roses. He tapped a slender flute against his leg impatiently, his natural talent outside of battle. Oliander, the Rose Knight of Ilium.

“General,” Feeps inclined his head respectfully. “We expected Killian, not a fleet.”
Oliander’s eyes narrowed. “Killian returned stating he found the princess and aimed to bring her home. Prince Valium didn’t take too kindly to the notion. He sent me in Killian’s stead.”

Unintentionally I growled at the statement, forcing Maziel to grip my muzzle tightly.

“Now then,” Oliander continued brusquely. “I don’t see Princess Taelim among you.”

“About that,” Feeps feigned a laugh. “Taelim, ever impatient, managed to secure passage to Illium...via teleportation. She should be there by now. She had us wait here for you.”

Even the Rose Knight raised an eyebrow at the warforged’s evident bluff. “The last five years you’ve presumably spent alongside her,” his eyes wandered the crowd, searching. “And you mean to say she went back to Illium on her own?”

“She heard of...troubles.” Feeps replied calmly. “You know how she gets.”

“And this is her entourage I'm to bring back?”

“Yes, she was hoping so...”

We hung there in silence, on the thin thread of Feep’s deception.

“Fine, then there’s no time to waste.” He signaled toward the approaching Illium contingent. “Give me a wizard. Now.”

A robed figured stepped out of the brigade, saluting the General.

“I want a teleportation circle to Illium. Get started.” Oliander commanded, and the wizard obeyed with another salute as we all made way.

Maziel whistled softly. “Guess there is no time to lose.”

I whined in agreement as the caster made quick work of the ritual.

“Come, Master Feeps, bring your group.” Oliadner beckoned, stepping inside the circle. He turned back to the waiting crew and barked orders. “Resupply and ship out, we have no idea what awaits at home.”

I watched familiar faces rush to obey as the rest of us stepped inside the teleportation circle dutifully. The urge to flee left me, replaced by eagerness to get home. I had never seen the Rose Knight so serious.

Oliander nodded to the wizard, and like that, we left that part of the world and returned to home. We were warped back to the center of the city, amid burning buildings and the sound of roars. Black oil fell from the sky, while fighting took place all around. Illium was at war.

Session 9

It looked like some sort of dragon. An undead dragon, bony back claws gripping the edge of the crumbling church we tried to camp in. A lone wight straddled its back, pointing a knobby finger in our direction.

Collectively, fear and survival drew our party closer together, weapons drawn as we faced it in a half circle. The undead dragon leapt down with a screeching roar. Instinctively, I stepped back, noting the unnatural crunch of frosted grass beneath my boots. The air felt frigid, and our clouded gasps kept time to our uneasy breaths.

“It’s just a wyvern,” Maziel announced, but even her voice betrayed a quaver. She hurried to nock an arrow and aimed. “We can win this one.”

“And the undead things shambling toward us from behind?” Barnaby questioned, poking his muzzle out of Cosmo’s bag with a whine.

Sure enough, emerging from the frozen mist were the ever faithful undead ilk we continually failed to elude.

Maziel pressed her lips into a thin line, and I could see her recalculating our odds. If she considered running, the moment passed and her arrow flew, sinking into the wyvern’s neck. The wyvern snarled and snapped in her direction, but the drow had already taken off for high ground, the kender at her heels.

“I suggest you look for cover, Klotonk.” Feeps said, drawing his rapier between a hum.

The gnome nodded. When a crossbow bolt wholly earned the ire of the wyvern, he rushed for the empty rectory beside the church, starting up a spell.

Zan trotted toward the ghouls, raising a hand to stop our incredulous shouts to come back. He moved straight toward the mob, so close one of the ghouls couldn’t have possibly missed him. But it had. It was unable to see the wood elf thanks to the Primordial boon of undead invisibility.

Zan grinned broadly, as if he didn’t expect it to actually work. Then he pulled back his fist and punched a hole through its rotting skull.

The ghoul mob cried out and surged toward me and Feeps. The last two in sight.

“I don’t really have a plan,” I told my friend, digging my feet into the ground.

“You never do.”

I snorted at his sass, then changed into a tiger and pounced into the crowd, despite his worried protests trailing behind me. There’s something about a wild shape, something feral that makes me alive and apart from my half elf from. Sometimes it’s the battle fever, and sometimes it’s lounging in a tree as a cat watching the world ignore me for a little while. Most of it involves not thinking.

Claws and fangs tore at the flesh of my foes as I bounded through the mist. I could see Zan’s fist and feet flying as he amassed a pile of confused crowds searching for the unseen killer.

Behind me echoed the sound of explosive spells, whizzing arrows and a howling wyvern toppling over.

What I missed however, was the ever growing group of ghouls I somehow surrounded myself with in the frigid fog. Something raked my back, and I snarled in pain, whipping out against my attacker. Then another claw tore a wound in my haunches, and I slashed back savagely. It was the bite that sunk into my neck that stopped me, spreading a poison deep into my bloodstream.

My muscles locked, paralyzing me in sporadic moments as the ghouls continued to lash out.  Weak and bloodied, I dropped my wild shape and tried to focus on fending off the horde. Overwhelmed, I missed the next bite that dropped me, sight and sound fading entirely.

Then someone shook me awake, reminding me of the cold ground where I lay. Pale irises beneath a wild mane of white hair hovered over me. It was Maziel, with a very worried Feeps behind her. All around, ghoul bodies littered the area.

I licked my lips and cringed at the taste. “Ugh, did you feed me a--?”

The drow held up a tiny, empty vial. “Potion.” She crushed the container and powdered my chest with broken glass.

I sighed, laying my head back down. “You’re mad at me.” From the corner of my eye I watched the group scatter. Feeps was the only one brave enough to linger, and only for my sake.

“What kind of reckless shit was that?” Maziel snapped.

“We were fighting a horde of ghouls, and I was trying to keep them off your backs!”

“And you went in head first---unthinking as always! You almost got yourself killed!”

I sat up and faced Maziel head on. Immediately, I felt my defiance fade away. I didn’t see the usual exasperation and annoyance. I saw worry. I hesitated awkwardly. “I-I’m sorry, okay?”

The drow rose to her feet, extending her hand and pulling me up. “Two weeks, Taelim. Only two before you go home. Try to stay alive until then will you?”

Maziel turned to lead the group into a distant forest of dead trees, and Feeps fell in line beside me as we trailed behind.

“Please don’t start,” I begged my warforged companion.

Feeps looked at me dolefully, but dutifully obeyed my wishes as we pushed into the woods searching wearily for any place to rest that night.

None of us slept well in the hovel of a house we hid in that evening. Every snapping branch, every echoing cry caused us to wake and brace for the worst. Before the sun rose we set off again, scurrying back to the ramshackle Stilt Town that seemed like home at this point. According to both our ranger and native guide (who always seem to contend for control of pathfinder), that was back through a forest you might warn children about.

“Why is it so cold?” Cosmo grumbled, accepting nuzzles from the furry Barnaby. They both looked at me as if to ask: Druid?

I threw up my hands. “I don’t know. Clearly this place isn’t 'one with nature'.” I quoted the air.

I paused as we crested a hill to catch our breath. The thought did cross my mind, but I couldn’t explain it. I had no clue other than it felt wrong, and the feeling had been nagging at me since we returned back to the Material Plane. My eyes wandered over the dead treetops, their skeletal branches scraping the gray sky. My gaze fell upon a wide clearing. Tall, jagged stones jutted out in a circle at bizarre angles as if placed. They reminded me of the stones where I completed my Geas.

“Hey Zan,” I called him over. “What is that place?” I pointed at the clearing.

The wood elf’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

Feeps gaped at us, and I forced a smile. I didn’t really appreciate the word.

“Why not?”

Zan folded his arms across his chest. “Because bad things happen there. Plain and simple.”

“Klotonk,” I called the gnome over, guiding his attention to the clearing. “Weird and mysterious phenomenons happen there. Feeps and I are heading over, want to come?”

His eyes widened. “Um, yes!”

Zan’s jaw dropped as I lead the way, Feeps apologizing as he hurried to get to my side and scold me softly. Maziel called after us, then cursed my name when Cosmo was suddenly in the group despite Barnaby’s protests. Both our guides followed grudgingly.

It took longer than expected to reach the clearing. By then we were shivering, and I was pretty sure Maziel loathed me again. It was hard to explain being drawn to it, the compulsion to go without knowing what waited ahead. Still, I did it often enough.

The stones were far taller than I perceived from afar, each pointing inward in a perfect circle.

“Now what?” Zan asked, hands on his hips, glowering.

I bit my lip and glanced around, keeping my distance from the stones. Even Klotonk approached cautiously, careful not to get too close. Something drew my gaze upward, and I only just realized how dark the sky was, despite what should have been noon.

“Well, we came all this way in the woods of the undead!” Zan said bitterly before storming off toward the center of the stone circle. He spun and faced us. “And for what? Now, if you don’t mind, let me be the guide.”

Nobody answered him. We were too busy eyeing the glowing spirit that had risen from the ground and towered over the wood elf. After a few seconds, he noticed our frozen horror and turned slowly to face whatever the looming entity was. Piercing eyes connected with Zan’s and then he dropped to his knees, clutching his chest.

We all made a lunge for our companion, but tiny fiery spirits alighted in front of us, the pretty and deadly will-o-wisps.

“The s-stones!” Zan choked out.

Maziel made a break for inner circle, her body seizing for a moment before she successfully dropped to Zan’s side, avoiding the spirit’s gaze. With one hand she cast Faerie Fire, outlining the massive, flickering spirit with an otherworldly light, with the other she dragged the monk out of the ring.

Cosmo and Feeps drew daggers, trying to keep the wisps at bay as they occasionally disappeared and reappeared around us. Then the air drummed, and we all cried out as a dark energy pulsed through us painfully, the spirit in the center laughing.

“I can’t read this!” Klotonk called, ducking near one of the jagged stones, eyes darting across the writing.

Zan, trying to gather his bearings, pointed at me.

Shit. I bolted over beside the gnome. Of course he couldn’t read it. The language was druidic.

“It’s a ritual!” I called out to my party. “Buy me time!” I pushed Klotonk gently back and set to work, calling forward nature’s divine energy. Whatever this spirit was, it broke a containment spell, but it could be sealed away again. I hoped.

Maziel returned to her trusty bow and was firing glowing arrows at the imposing spirit. Klotonk ducked back into the forest, sending spiraling magic the entity's way. The spirit slashed out against the air, sending waves of wild energy.

“Contain it!” Zan shouted. “Everyone take an angle!”

I barely grasped his words as I rushed to the next stone, concentrating on rebuilding the druidic bindings.

“Taelim!” Multiple voices shouted at once.

I glanced up, and barely ducked out of the spirit’s strike. Back pressed against the stone’s surface, I could feel its gaze on me, and didn't dare move. Once my party unleashed another torrent of attacks, I hurried to complete the next piece of the puzzle.

A massive pulse of painful energy shook the air and I staggered, struggling to concentrate on the incantation. A commotion erupted from my group, and I couldn’t help but watch in horror. They managed to take down the wisps, and forced the dark spirit into a submissive hunch. It stared them down with utter hatred as its body slowly dissipated, revealing gaping holes in its form. It, however, had no intention of going down alone. Slowly, our legs began to petrify into stone.

I cursed under my breath and awkwardly stomped over to finish the last stone, the dark spirit in the center screeching wildly as it hissed away into nothingness from the party’s final onslaught. As I worked along the circle I didn’t exactly take in my efforts as I went. I might have noticed the surge of life spreading out from the base of each of stone, the golden glow of druidic runes drawing in the blight like a beacon. When the ritual was completed, a wave of warm energy swept over us, and the petrification on our  legs shattered.

If anyone asked, I couldn’t explain the purification process. I followed directions--old directions--and something happened. Something that had been in place far before my time.

A bright blue sky greeted us, light rays of sunshine reaching our shoulders. The frigid fog vanished, replaced with a clear, crisp air. Ever so slowly, life was returning back to the swamp’s outskirts.

I walked over to my friends and beamed widely, knowing full well they had faced the brunt of it. “You guys look awful.”

Even Maziel’s austere features softened, if only slightly.

“What was all this about?” Klo asked.

I shrugged, having only paid attention to the basics of what the stones said. "Something about a demon lord and an avatar…”

The gnome pouted, disheartened I didn't know more.

“Doresian. This whole cursed blight was thanks to some alliance with him and Orcus.” Zan offered, shifting uncomfortably. “Seems like it's sealed once again. First time in a loooong time.”

“That is good, is it not?” Feeps asked, daring to feel proud.

“Sure, yeah, we're the heroes of the swamp. Again.” Zan feigned excitement. “Or maybe we painted a target on our backs and the hunter is Orcus.”

I slapped Zan in the back playfully. “No point freaking out about it now.” I stepped to his side, gesturing forward grandly. “Will you lead us out of here, o great guide?”

He snorted. “As you wish, princess.”

I frowned and followed. Got me there.