Recovered accounts from the Vale expedition.
A long-forgotten, dragon-worshipping empire rose and fell in the heart of the Misty Vale, its legend now clouded in fog, ringed by peaks. Warbands of orcs once ruled the valley in savage isolation, but two decades ago, they began to withdraw. Now, the mist remains, the valley stirs with new life, and fortune-seekers cross the passes to Outskirt, the first Kin outpost. The journey begins at Dareholt, the last stop before the unknown.
We inserted our looted crystal coins in a locked door, that freed the tree spirit. The tree spirit flew back to the golden tree and that made it grow tremendously. It got so big that the fort collapsed.
Luckily we already found a statue and other cool stuf in a locked chest. After the fort came down, we searched the basement and got the field kitchen that we saw earlier.
Being outside, Arc killed instantly one of the cultists.
They started with a rest, a well earned rest after dealing with crooked knights. Being rather sure that the paralysed one would start moving in less than a stretch, they left him shackled and gagged.
Arcturus, leaving Silly and Bones with Ossiar, hiked up the hill towards the fort.
While the others caught their breath, Arcturus went directly to the tree, to see what he could find. He found the tree imbued with some residue of animism essence, and saw that the tree was withered but small pale green buds grew on some of the lower branches. He tried to read the ancient inscription, but failed to grasp its meaning. And decided to climb the wall and check inside. Not finding much, he grabbed on a small branch of the tree and pulled, breaking it...
At that exact moment, the whole hill shook and rumbled.
Meanwhile, Shanna and Lou tried to get anything from the tied up knight, Niklion, but he was not cooperating that much. He asked the halfling knight to untie him, and when she didn't do it, he started screaming for Isadelia... Lou, telling him that "we do not scream here," gagged him again.
Kaelen climbed the flight of stairs back to the first floor of the keep, and there she found three hay beds, some clothes and belongings, and a big robust chest, with a well made lock. She went outside to retrieve Shanna to deal with it.
Arcturus joined Lou on the knight interrogation, but Lou was already unamused with it, so he went back to the great hall in the keep. Here he saw the cellar door. A massive ironclad patinated door, without a lock, with ancient inscriptions over it, and with five horizontal indentations at chest height, each of them round and the size of a silver coin. One already had a yellow crystal.
On the first floor, Shanna, with a bit of work, was able to open the lock of the chest. In there, they found a piece of the statue, a bag of gold, and something that Kaelen recognised as a dragon scale. Green, polished, dragon scale. The piece of the statue looked to be the original one to the fake they found weeks ago, on the body of Mr Weatherman. Kaelen excitedly took the scale, cold to the touch, and passed it to Shanna. For the halfling the scale was warm on her hand, and suddenly she saw a reflection of a reptilian eye blinking... the furtive wink disappeared as soon as it came.
At the cellar door, Lou asked for the help of Aldonil to translate the inscription... the elf, moments later, exclaimed 'oh, it's a riddle'... and translated it:
The drop is east of the heart, but not in the center
The heart is not by the leaf, but just east of the sun
The sun is neither in the far west nor the far east
The moon is next to the drop alone
The leaf is west of the heart
They all gathered around the door with the crystal lenses, and figured out the riddle.
Lou excitedly placed each of the crystals in order, in their proper places: leaf (green), sun (yellow), heart (red), drop (blue) and moon (off-white).
Slowly the coins started shining, each of them casting a color beam into the hall, growing in intensity until it was almost blinding; the door started opening and from inside...
"At last I'm FREE!"... Rotlaug, a nature spirit, crooked as a dwarf birch with skin as rough and pale as a birch tree, stepped out of the cellar.
"Time to make things grow!"... and his face dominated by a wide toothless mouth and two small eyes turned towards Arcturus, and with a quick slash of one of his branch arms, snapped on the mage. Arcturus was fast, but not fast enough, and he ended up against the wall of the keep, hurting from the slam.
The spirit made his way through the keep, bringing it down on his pass. He stopped at the storeroom where Niklion was shackled and gagged, and stomped it down, killing the knight.
Finally he reached the withered apple tree, and merged with it...
And with a boom, everything started growing.
The tree, the roots, the vines, nature itself unleashed. Bringing the fort and walls down, as they were supposed to be hundreds of years ago.
Finally, Rotlaug's revenge was accomplished.
When the tree stopped growing, they were able to pluck some more beautiful golden and delicious apples, and searching the remains of the cellar they found treasure. Among the treasure was an old grimoire. They were also able to retrieve Blutuld's knapsack with the field kitchen.
They started to set up camp when the elves and Ossiar came back, and they told him about the fate of his friend. Ossiar started weeping.
At that moment, Arcturus screamed to the rest to grab Ossiar and check on his arm for tattoos... Instantly and still sobbing, Ossiar started running. He couldn't go far; the wizard cast a fireball and killed him rather quickly.
After searching through his body, they found Sathmog's mark on his forearm. This marked him as a cultist.
The elves, surprised at this display of ruthlessness, started saying their goodbyes, and thanking them profusely for their help in rescuing Iliel. They also promised a reward if they met again, deep in the Iron Forest.
After the elves left, they set up camp, assigned guards, and started to rest.
They talked about the events, and Arcturus was taken aback that no piece had been found, but at that moment Shanna took the piece of the statue out of her bag and handed it to the wizard. Without a second thought, Arcturus joined both pieces, and with a grinding noise they fused together.
During the first guard, Arcturus and Lou were talking about magic... as Lou grew infatuated with the branch of the magic tree... noises coming from the back of the dilapidated keep stopped their rest.
They managed to fight and slay a hippogriff, but not without Arcturus miscalculating a spell that froze both Lou and Kaelen during the fight.
After making a fire to warm up their cold friends, they all went back to sleep, mildly annoyed at each other.
The morning started with a steady snowfall that muffled the sounds around the keep.
They packed and started on their way towards the Oracle Cave.
Back at the foothill of the fort, covered by the tree line and the still falling snow, they regrouped to discuss the information scouted by Grimm and Kaelen.
Shanna also shared with the group her vision, making Grimm remember the reason he left Arkand and revealing to Shanna and the rest his Octopus brand, right on his left shoulder blade. Opposite from the IX mark on his left pectoral.
While all these matters were shared, revealed and discussed, they heard the noise of metal against stone, coming loudly from the fort.
And not too far from them, the crack of twigs and leaves took them out of the planning, to find an explorer approaching them cautiously. He presented himself as Ossiar, and claimed to be looking for help to free his travel companion Blutuld from the grips of the Knights. Another victim of this ruthless group.
With this new addition to the group, they reached a plan... Grimm, Lou, Shanna and Kaelen would sneak inside the fort, while the elves Aldonil and Orifin would follow the wall guards, and shoot them down if necessary. To be extra silent, Grimm removed his armor, wrapped it in some clothes, and carried it over his shoulder. Ossiar and Arcturus stayed behind with Silly and Bones.
The stealthy party sneaked through the crack on the wall closer to the tree, and made their way inside. Hiding behind the marble wall that surrounded the withered thing. Lou foraged it and found some small yellow/red fruits hanging... without second guesses he ate one, the apple filling him more than he expected. With Kaelen they shared and ate the two last fruits of the tree.
Investigating the marble circle around the tree, they cleaned the bushes and thorns that covered some ancient letters. The inscription read: “The golden tree will be forever in the care and possession of House Stoneoak; such is the agreement with the tree’s keeper and soul, Rotlaug, bound to this place in perpetuity.”
They sneaked behind the tree and towards some buildings with not closed doors. Here they found a storage and workshop, where stone carving tools and pieces of black obsidian stone lay over the table and floor.
Shanna and Kaelen got out of the shed and approached a small shed next to where they were, with light seeping through cracks in the brickwork and where the centuries-old roof tiles had fallen in. And as they approached, they could hear tense hissing voices. They got closer, close enough to eavesdrop and understand some of their words. One of the female voices sounded irritated and threatening, the other one defiant. One asking why the other one was refusing and saying that the other one could go free if she cooperated, the other voice just asking to be let go, to be set free.
A short moment after this interchange, one of them turned around, went to the door and opened it to leave the shed; Kaelen reacted quickly to it and hid around the corner; Shanna jumped back and went into the storage room next door.
They saw a knight leave the shed and make it through the courtyard towards the main keep, exasperated.
In this new store room, Shanna found some shackles, hay, and a knapsack with a field kitchen, and an ocarina shaped like a grinning demonic rooster.
When they considered the area safe, Shanna and Kaelen reconvened at the door of the shed, and the halfling picked open the lock to it. And after getting in, they saw a shackled elf. They quickly learnt that she was Iliel, the sister of Aldonil and Orifin, who was a bit wary and suspicious of Shanna, as she was wearing some ancient knight armor.
Grimm and Lou also made their way into the cell, and they all talked with Iliel. The elf explained she was taken against her will to translate some ancient inscription, and that she wouldn't cooperate with this murderous bunch. As it seemed, they had not so long ago burned alive the person kept captive in the building next to hers. The smell, the agonizing screams... Iliel was a bit taken aback by all this.
They released the elf, and after thanking them, she sneaked out through the same crack in the wall they came through.
They split, Lou and Shanna went around the left side of the Keep, Grimm and Kaelen around the right side, the plan was to scout and see what they could find.
What they saw peeking through the slits on the sides of the keep was the following... two roughened adventurers with pickaxes and shovels making a hole in the floor of the great hall, next was a knight in full plate with a warhammer on his side, pushing them to keep on digging.
Without doubting, Lou covered one of his arrows with poison, and at the count of three with Shanna both of them attacked. Shanna threw a knife, and Lou loosened the string of his bow, the poisoned arrow flying through the slit.
Shanna's dagger dug deep into the back of one adventurer, who fell face first into the hole. Lou's arrow only grazed the knight. A non prepared battle started, surprising everyone involved, even Kaelen and Grimm, whose armor was still packed over his shoulder.
A messy lot happened, the knight woman came down from the first floor. The knights and adventurers, not wanting to be pinned inside the great hall, made their way outside to confront the attackers.
In the back of the keep, a ferocious fight between Shanna and one of the ruffians took place, the little metal coated halfling stood her ground evading blows right and left.
In the front of the main gate, Kaelen and Grimm confronted the other knight. This dangerous lady kept both of them at bay, making Grimm run out to call for help, and the Karkion fly out of melee towards the first floor of the keep to save her skin.
Meanwhile, one of the wall guards fell down the wall pierced by an arrow from the outside elves, the other one, after being hit by an arrow, came down to join the combat.
Kaelen, seeing Shanna alone with two opponents, angered and flew down sword high striking and killing one of the ruffians. But she left herself exposed and the knight punched her square on the face, making the Karkion fall, once again, valiantly unconscious.
Lou was running into the keep to retrieve his poisonous arrow, and this time he was able to shoot it against the knight who brought the Karkion down. The arrow flew through the slit of the keep, hitting the knight on his left shoulder, paralysing him.
At the gate of the keep, the last knight confronting Grimm made a desperate attempt and kicked the wolfkin into the bonfire, his hair catching fire rather fast, and almost leaving him unconscious. But at that same moment, Aldonil the elf came inside the fort, shooting his arrow and striking the knight down, before she could strike Grimm down.
In the embers of the bonfire, Grimm found a human skull with an injury to the bone, running from the forehead down under the left eye.
After such an intense encounter, they took the paralysed knight into the shed with the shackles and left him there. Shanna looted the fallen female knight, finding a pouch with four round crystals. They regrouped to catch their breath.
The courtyard of the fort was quiet again: no more digging, no more screams, no more metal against metal.
Without knowing if what they did would help the ancient tree and this forest, they took a rest. The clear skies and bitter cold were welcomed after the confrontations and hard labor.
Without them realising it, the sounds of wildlife returned. The cawing of crows reached them from not too far. Arcturus, unsettled, slipped into Anser and went to explore. The fox, still afraid of the forest, did not want to go deeper to investigate.
But at least, wildlife was returning.
The trek back to Oak Sage was uneventful, and when they reached the tree, its state was more balanced, remaining half withered, but the dark tendrils were not suffocating its roots anymore.
Gentle and thankful, Oak Sage rewarded them with words of wisdom, bark and leaves to start a medicine kit, and the sought after amber.
He talked about ancient times, before and during the dragon worshipping empire and the lich priest Azrahel Koth, about the oracle not far from here, about the orcs.
After exchanging some more pleasantries and thanks, the party returned to Gelund's cave. They reignited the hearth and started to prepare for the night.
Some of them decided to go and explore the natural cave system that opened through one wall of Gelund's cave, but the slippery floor and sharp stone quickly dissuaded them from investigating any further.
Finally, after some dinner and deep study, they took a well deserved rest.
The clear skies of the day before gave way to dark and thick clouds. Freezing was the rain that fell upon the forest, making the ground treacherous.
They decided to stay in and have a day to recover. Some of them took the day to study, others trained, some just relaxed.
Incessant rain gave way to icy wind and light drifting snow.
The journey couldn't be delayed anymore, so the party braved the weather and started the journey towards Fort Malus.
Safely they traveled through the Iron Forest until a pair of bow wielding elves lying in ambush revealed themselves.
Trying to keep the encounter civilised, they were able to convince the elves that they were not with the crazy knights that were kidnapping people and settling in the Fort.
The party learned that Aldonil and Orifin were seeking their friend Iliel, whom the mounted knight, Tylos, kidnapped a few days ago. After a good talk, the elves agreed to accompany the party to Fort Malus and help in exchange for the release of their friend.
In the encounter they had with Tylos a few days back, he was looking for help with something back at the Fort, one of those things was the translation of some elf writing. Iliel refused to help the knight, and the mounted bastard just overpowered her and took her by force.
Not much longer after the talk, the winter sun was setting, and they decided to camp all together and share the guard shifts.
The night went by peacefully, and the drifting snow turned into a steady snowfall, muffling steps and sounds all around the woods.
As a small caravan, they journeyed through the woods and hills, the party, the elves, Anser, Silly and Baloo, whom everyone else called Bones. They crossed paths with a few animals, less kin, and luckily no monsters.
As uneventful as it was, the trip was also tedious, and just past sunset, they reached the tree line that separated them from Fort Malus.
The wall around the fort was as tall as three full-grown humans, cracked, weathered, and covered in vines, but still sturdy. Guards carrying lanterns peered outward from atop the wall, though their attention seemed drawn back toward the warmth of the keep.
Kaelen and Grimm stealthily ran towards the wall and moved around the wall in separate directions. They found the main gate, a patinated double door, ajar but stuck. Kaelen knew that opening it would have squeaked enough to call the attention of the guards. They both found cracks on the wall that would allow the party to sneak inside.
Peering inside, they saw the keep, with light coming from inside. They also saw a firepit in the courtyard, its embers still glowing, and multiple sheds and buildings leaning against the wall.
They also saw the tree, a withered and dry old tree, surrounded by a meter tall wall.
As they made their way back to the party, to relate their discoveries and start making a plan, Shanna was recovering from a small episode.
Without them knowing yet, she had a vision:
Hidden behind the woodpile, he watches the barn. Three men stand with Da by the door. Big men. Rough beards. Their arms bare, red octopus tattoos, the ink fresh and angry-looking. The tallest one talks, his finger pointing at Da's chest. Da shakes his head, arms crossed. The second man leans against the barn wall, the octopus on his shoulder bunching as he shifts. The third stands with his back to the field, scanning the yard. Sunlight glints off a knife hilt. Dust swirls in the dry air. His knees press into the dirt. His pulse thumps in his throat. Sweat prickles his palms. The men don't look his way. Not yet.
Resolved to clear the wellspring of its dark, muddy, fungal corruption, they walked back toward the pond.
Night had already fallen, and the mist surrounded them like old friends, not thick enough to obscure visibility, but enough to brush the edges of their senses, casting unnecessary shadows here and there.
Something moved beyond the clearing, behind the treeline.
While they debated ideas and possibilities... burn everything? Give each animal a proper burial? Disrupt the circle enough?... Kaelen, already bored by the plotting, grabbed a stick from the wet grass and poked one of the tendrils. She wasn’t fast enough to pull her arm back. The tendril, quick as a whip, grabbed her arm, slimy, wet, warm. In a tight grip, this pasty, rubbery limb probed for something. When it didn't find what it was looking for, it lingered just long enough to make the karkion's neck hairs rise before releasing its prey. It left behind slime and the unpleasant feeling of unwanted, non-consensual contact.
One of the trees moved as if it were alive, revealing for a few seconds a burned and scratched visage. A moment later, it vanished, blending into the mist.
The party chose to fully break the circle of multispecies corpses and pile them away from the pond. As Shanna's attempts to light on a fire were proven impossible by the damp area.
Divided into two groups, they began the labor. They moved some badgers, goblins, a deer, and a few birds. The stench of decay clung to their hands as they piled the corpses. The pond’s surface barely rippled each time a corpse was removed, its tendrils retreating back into the murky water. Lou’s eyes kept drifting toward it. But his youth and fearlessness got the best of him. He decided to step into the pond to fight the tendrils in close combat. He removed his boots and rolled up the legs of his pants. The night and the work had exhausted them all, no one stopped Lou in his enterprise.
Lou stepped a bare foot onto the edge of the pond... Expecting it to be cold on a winter night, he was surprised to find it lukewarm, viscous, like dark ichor. And alive, as the edge of the pond receded, leaving his foot outside itself. Seeing the pond retreat, Lou took two more steps toward its center... steps that could have been his last.
The pond, the tendrils, no longer retreating from his touch, erupted from the water, shattering its quiet, sepulchral surface. The first tendrils lashed out, like wet leather stretched over bone, and seized his forearms. He managed to break free from their grip, but more tendrils shot out, coiling around his legs, arms, and torso. Their crushing weight squeezed the breath from his lungs. Grimm and Kaelen helped from the edge at first, but when they saw Lou struggling, Grimm jumped in, and Kaelen took flight. Grimm slashed at the tendrils binding Lou’s arms and torso, while Kaelen grabbed him under the armpits and carried him up, though the tendrils still clung desperately to his legs.
A treekin, moving fast and with momentum, its face marred, a powerful wooden spear in hand, stomped toward the party fighting at the pond. With a swing, it cut the last tendrils, freeing the karkion and Lou to fly clear of the pond.
Several moments were needed for them to recover their breath, and a few more for Lou. While the treekin waited patiently, its face expressionless, at the edge of the clearing. When they had gathered themselves enough, the treekin started walking out of the area and into the woods, signalling them to follow.
They followed their tree-like guide through the woods for about half an hour until they reached a hillock with a cave entrance three times their height. From within the cave came the flickering glow of fire and the smell of roasted meat, enticing and comforting. The treekin entered without looking back. Tired and in need of rest, the party had no second thoughts about following it toward the source of such comfort.
Inside the cave they found a forest giant sitting beside a fire, roasting the remains of an animal. The chamber was large but sparsely furnished. Spacious enough for the giant's size, it contained a lazily dancing fire, a large mattress of hay and nettles in one corner covered with a multitude of furs, a pantry stocked with pots and cooking ingredients, and charms and wood carvings hanging here and there.
Gelund, the giant, introduced himself and spoke to them slowly, his deep voice sounding as though it came from far underground. He explained the corruption spreading through the woods and overtaking the Ancient Tree.
A demon had entered the forest some weeks earlier and had begun killing animals and forest dwellers, corrupting the water and performing a ritual to spread that corruption even further. Gelund had tried to confront the demon, but to no avail. He had been wounded in the fight and was now recovering from an infected wound across his chest.
Upon hearing what the party had been doing, he asked for their help in destroying the demon and purifying the wellspring. The giant offered them food and a safe place to sleep while the treekin stepped outside to keep watch.
The party accepted the giant's hospitality, filled their bellies with roasted venison, and settled into their furs around the cave to sleep warmly and safely.
Morning started late in the cave. They slept as much as they needed, and the giant slept more. They got time to recover and prepare, and when they stepped outside the cave’s mouth, the clear skies and cold as bitter as a ghost’s embrace took them by surprise.
Following Gelund this time, they walked back through the dense woods toward the pond, where they found everything as they had left it the night before. The day did not make this place any less creepy or threatening.
With the help of the giant, the task of moving the corpses around turned faster, and progress was made in not too much time.
The clearing and surrounding forest remained silent, deprived of the songs of birds and the scuttling of small animals, probably scared away by the rottenness and stench of death.
Suddenly, the faraway sound of anguished moos came to them. They knew what was coming—Kaelen had had the fleeting displeasure of meeting them several days earlier.
As the sound came closer rapidly, all of them readied. Moos and hysterical screeching mixed and grew louder as the demon, flying atop a backward cow, appeared over the clearing. It jumped off its mount and landed between them. The cow continued its flight path and collided with the treekin. Guts and blood splashed in horrid squelching against the treant, whose limbs and trunk splattered and splintered into pieces. Combat started rapidly.
Kraxus, the demon, fought madly and relentlessly, but the party, supported by the giant, did not cower back. Shanna’s mace was ablaze with a blue hue. Kaelen relished the possibility of a second chance with this demon that, many days ago, had brought her down like a rag doll. Grimm took the front, face to face with this fire demon, and gave his all. Lou’s hopeful ballads gave strength and courage to his allies. Gelund fought as if the weight of the woods was on his shoulders.
During battle, there was a moment of despair as Kaelen and Gelund went down, and after them, Grimm. But as soon as Grimm touched the floor unconscious, he jumped back on his feet as if puppeteered by a higher entity, stealing a glance and a smirk from Kraxus, who was rather interested in what he was witnessing.
In the end, the party reigned supreme over this envoy of chaos and corruption. Its body turned into coals and ashes.
Shanna helped Kaelen up, but they were too late to help Gelund. The giant lay motionless next to a pile of rotten corpses.
As the demon had interrupted them when their job was almost done, they went back to work, dragging the few remaining corpses and severing their tendrils that connected them to the pond. When the last body was severed, the pond started bubbling, and a face-down, half-rotten corpse of a treekin surfaced, floating untethered. They got closer to the edge of the wellspring and saw a sort of stone protruding from its back.
When the corpse bobbed a bit closer to the edge, Lou, with a cloth on his hands, went to pick up the stone. What he found was another meteorite, like the one Arc carries around. He was careful not to touch it, as he was wary of what it could do.
It was past midday. Gelund and the treekin were gone. The corpse circle was undone, and the meteorite that was fueling this corruption was out of the pond. It was not a ritual site anymore, the cycle: stone, flesh, and root feeding each other disrupted. Was this enough to stop the corruption from spreading and restore the woods?
They woke up at their camp in the manor’s ruins. The cold bit at them, and the rain had turned the area into a muddy mess. They ventured to cross the river via the bridge south of the Temple, turned west, and kept walking with the river to their right.
Before dusk, they set up camp. Kaelen went hunting and, among the underbrush, spotted a red-haired fox, which she killed and brought back. Lou, excited, tried his hand at cooking it. The result was disastrous: half charred, half raw, and completely unappealing even to tired adventurers. Yet, fearless and stubborn, he still ate it.
Snow lightly covered their tracks, and the icy wind made their bones shudder. The morning didn’t start well for Lou, who felt under the weather.
By afternoon, they crossed paths with a battered group of adventurers: a human, a wolfkin, and a mallard. The wolfkin’s mother, Kale, was from a farmstead south of Dareholt. The group had been on their way to Troll Spire but was attacked in the forest by what they described as a bunch of "not-so-dead creatures." They shared little information, and both groups parted ways. Lou felt worse.
At camp, Lou was feverish and sweating. Kaelen brought back a deer from the edges of the woods. This time, Shanna cooked it properly. The meal was warm, earthy, and fulfilling. Lou tried to eat, but his stomach couldn’t hold anything solid. He spent the whole night emptying his innards.
The morning was eerily calm, disturbed only by Lou’s sickly moans and sighs.
Before starting the day’s walk, Shanna prepared a herbal concoction with herbs from Hafarmal’s patch, recalling what she had learned from the elf’s teachings.
As Lou showed no sign of improvement, Silly took his weight, and they walked the full day with Lou on the mule’s back.
At night, when the storm began, they gathered under their tents and used the cover nature provided. They shared a meal, and Shanna tended to Lou, making him drink the concoction.
The storm passed, leaving behind a bitter cold and clear skies.
Morning came, and Lou felt better. The sickness that had plagued his body was gone, leaving his stomach empty and hungry. While he grabbed a bite for the first time in days, Shanna found a reflective pond and took a moment to tend to herself.
Their path now took them into the Iron Forest. Before delving in, Kaelen, with Grimm’s spyglass, took to the air and located a massive tree to the southwest of their position. Believing this to be Oak Sage, they ventured in that direction.
In the forest, they heard the hooves of a horse. Everyone except Lou hid behind trees and underbrush. What appeared in front of him was an armored knight who identified himself as Tylos. He asked Lou if he was a cultist and where he was headed. Kaelen left her hiding spot as Lou began to share more than he should. They managed to calm Tylos’ suspicions about them being cultists by telling him they knew Alfilia and that she had been taken and imprisoned. The knight told them that their leader, Serenya, wouldn’t be happy about this, even though they did not see eye to eye with Alfilia. He mentioned he was from a faction called the Heirs of the Immaculate Flame. Kaelen remembered Alfilia had talked about these misguided knights, and how they would use everything in their path to reach their ends: to rid the world of the lich Azrahel Koth with the sword of Eledain and restore the days of the Dragon Empire. Shanna also remembered meeting someone called Serenya at the Three Stags Inn, wearing chainmail under her robes and a blue glove on her left hand. This could have been the same person who had talked with Bela before she disappeared, or so Toman had told her, many weeks ago.
After the encounter with the knight, they delved deep into the forest, where paths were trodden by several animals and humanoids, as the tracks on the path showed.
Without realizing it, they were ambushed by a group of not-so-dead animals: three half-skeletal wolves with pieces of skin and hair hanging from their faces and sides, and a big, half-rotten, decaying bear. Lou slew a wolf and, with his ballads, scared a second away. Kaelen killed the last wolf. The not-so-dead bear wasn’t so easy to deal with, but Kaelen half-displaced its head with an upward swing of her axe. The biggest loss of the battle was Kaelen’s axe, whose shaft broke while parrying a mighty bite from a zombie wolf.
As the last of the corrupted and decayed animals fell, they looked for a safe place to camp and rest. They found an opening, a clearing in the forest. The problem was what they found there, and the smell: nauseating and overwhelming. They found a pond, large and foreboding, with murky black waters, surrounded by a perfectly placed circle of dead animals and nightkin, all in different states of decay: deer, boars, squirrels, orcs, goblins, birds, and foxes. All of them were connected to the waters of the pond with black, fungus-like tendrils.
Lou, trying not to breathe too much, got close to the dead squirrel and kicked it into the pond. The squishy, fragile body of the little animal flew and flopped through the mud before diving into the pond with a squelching sound. A black tendril, moving with the speed of a whip, tried to wrap around Lou’s leg. It tried, but the youngster’s reflexes were still sharp, and he avoided the tendril’s grip.
They left the pond, searching for the tree. Kaelen guided them through the forest toward where she had seen a massive tree moving, not far from them.
They emerged into a large open glade, where at the center stood an ancient and majestic tree, moving restlessly as if in distress. Its vast form was partially rooted into the earth, and its roots were tangled with dark tendrils. Some of its massive, arm-like branches were adorned with withered leaves and moved jerkily. The carved face, twisted in agony, glowed with a strange light, its deep-set eyes burning with an eerie intensity.
There was no other sound than the rustling of leaves, and the smell of decay and rot was again a slap to the senses. Lou started running toward the ancient tree, while it spoke in a deep, tormented voice: "Help us... You must cleanse the water... the wellspring... save us..." A few seconds later, the tree’s face jerked and twisted, its expression becoming a mask of anger. With a massive branch-like arm, it slapped him back. He managed to escape without further issues and regrouped with the party. They decided they needed to cleanse the pond
It took them less than two hours to go from entering the Temple to leaving it.
Dennis was being carried while thrashing and turning on the party's arms.
On the stairs leading to the ground floor of the temple, Shanna suggested putting the mask on him. His body shook and spasmed as the mask drained his willpower to activate the protective spell it carried. He stopped thrashing, not completely, but enough for the party to walk him upstairs. The clouds and demons in his mind also cleared a little, allowing him to mumble about being betrayed by Annabella and the Truth Society being a cult. As they started walking out of the temple doors, they noticed another change: Dennis was quieter, calmer and lethargic.
As they stepped outside, Bones came running to Lou and Dennis. Hafarmal was sitting under the trees next to Silly, eating one of the halfling rations. His face quickly changed from its welcoming and amicable expression to one of worry and concern. 'What have you got there, lads?' The boisterous, dark-eyed elf asked, standing up and making his way to the group.
In the drizzly, cold morning, they spent a few minutes talking about what they had found and what had happened. Concerned about the situation and eager to help, Hafarmal invited them to take Dennis to his hut, where he would be able to understand his predicament more easily.
On the way, Dennis recognised the lyre hanging from Lou's back. He asked Lou to play something for him, which seemed to calm him down; a single tear rolled behind his bone mask.
Hafarmal's hut, a small, weathered, cosy wooden construction covered in moss and lichen, was hidden in the forest no more than 20 minutes from the temple. Inside, it was filled with herbs, books, and knick-knacks. The hearth was still lit, and the smell of smoke and pine wood filled the place.
Dennis was allowed to sleep in Hafarmal's bed and the party was able to enjoy a well-earned rest. At that very moment, the elf began researching Dennis's situation.
While preparing a calming cup of tea for Lou, Hafarmal called in Bones and started talking to him in a language the rest of the group did not understand. He explained that he was speaking the language of the forest and telling Bones about limits and boundaries, and instructing him to stay away from his vegetable patch at the back of the hut.
The day passed calmly, and in the evening, it started to snow.
The following two days were a balm of calmness in the Magna Woods. Snow covered everything, making the place feel oddly isolated.
The days were spent teaching each other skills, hunting, and looking after Dennis. Lou was able to talk to his brother during the times when Hafarmal stopped his research to go for walks and collect herbs.
Lou learnt the reason why Dennis had ventured into the Vale.
Many years ago, Dennis had come into possession of an artefact from a merchant who had come from the Misty Vale. This artefact had made him realise that his mother's bedtime stories and songs were not fables or fabrications; they were true. Dragons and a dragon empire whose knights were worthy enough to ride on the backs of dragons completely rocked his world and fascinated him at the same time. After a big discussion with his parents, he left for the Vale against their wishes. There he met a group of adventurers. They were given work by Annabella, who introduced them to the Truth Society. After working together for a couple of years, his party was invited to the temple to pledge fealty to the patron of the 'Society': Sathmog. Dennis refused to do such a thing or be branded, but he was pushed into the portal.
As Dennis's talk and tales drew closer to the portal event, he seemed to snap and revert to a half-feral state. Luckily, he was lethargic and rather weak.
It looks like the snow has come to stay. The morning started slowly, calmly, and coldly.
At the first signs of daylight, Hafarmal called the party together to share the results of his research on Dennis.
He told them a few things about his situation:
He told them that the ancient tree, which calls itself "Oak Sage", has been there since before the dragon-worshipping empire existed.
Armed with this information, they prepared by hunting rabbits and left the quiet surroundings of Hafarmal's hut and forest. They then started walking in the direction of the Ancient Tree and Malus Fort.
As soon as they stepped out of the tree line marking the edge of the Magna Woods, they heard strange noises and saw a flying creature approaching through the air towards them. A few minutes later, the noises became clearer: dreadful, anguished moos layered with crazy shrieks and cackling. Some of them remembered bedtime stories about demonic beings who travel between worlds on bewitched cattle. Kaelen knew this to be true. Suddenly, she flew up, catching the demon by surprise. She encountered a horned creature pulling the tail of a cow flying backwards, with a whip in its right hand. Without a second thought, and with the help of momentum, Kaelen swung her axe in a wide arc, opening the demon's left flank. The demon roared in pain and anger and skilfully whipped Kaelen down. The Karkin fell almost twenty metres towards the snow, unconscious. Shanna and Lou rushed to help her and managed to stabilise her. This was the quickest reality check Lou had ever experienced.
After this encounter, they continued travelling south towards the bridge, where they found a small ruin from the days of the Empire. In the inner yard stood an obelisk of weathered granite, covered in moss and undergrowth. On top of it, Kaelen found a hidden compartment containing a beautiful gold ring with a stylised crown.
They decided to make camp there for the night. They cooked the rabbits they had hunted that morning with some vegetables that Shanna had 'found' in Hafarmal's garden.
That evening, as they left the temple to rest, the dog that had been tied to the mule came running to greet them with a bone in her mouth.
As they looked in the direction from which the dog had come, they saw a hooded figure sitting next to Silly and eating one of their fatty, dense bread rations.
They later realised that the stranger was Hafarmal, an elf with a coarse voice who smoked from his pipe the whole time they spoke. He seemed unaware of the weirdness of his pure black eyes, which stood out to the party.
He talked to them about many subjects, for example:
There were probably many more ramblings about magic, herbs, and cultists.
After Hafarmal took his leave, they set up camp on the edge of the forest, hidden by the undergrowth. They were tired and battered after defeating the cultists and the manticore. Arcturus tried without success to remove the mask out of his face. Grimm and Shanna went to bed first, while Kaelen, Arct, and Lou took the first watch.
Not long after night fell, an apparition appeared at the edge of their field of vision. As Arct and Lou approached the ghost and confronted it, Kaelen borrowed Shanna's magical hammer, the only weapon they had that could injure it, just in case. In the end, however, the hammer, Fiendcrusher, was not needed. They were able to persuade the lost soul and figure out what had disturbed its rest. They needed to retrieve the bone that Bones had been playing with and bury it again in the poltergeist's burial place to restore its peace.
Once peace had been restored to the camp, the second watch began without incident.
It was a cold and drizzly morning. While they ate a light breakfast, they packed up the camp again. Having had time to rest and recover, they dived back into the temple without delay. They left Silly and Bones tied and leashed at the tree line.
When they reached the Manticore Hall in the basement and faced the large iron gate bearing a relief of a violet flame, the temple was quiet, and the light from Fiendcrusher was bright, a sharp shade of blue.
After opening the gate, they entered an ornate chamber adorned with murals and lavishly decorated columns. The rock seemed half-molten and semi-organic, like the inside of a fossilised monster. On a marble altar, a violet fire burned. Two tall figures with axes stood on either side of the altar. Behind it, framed by what seemed like the spine of an unreal monster, they could see a semi-organic city with strange angles under a purple sky. They soon realised that another tall humanoid figure was curled up in the middle of the room with its back to the wall.
They moved towards the middle of the room, talking. When they were close enough to see the tall figures in detail, they saw that they were humanoids with stretched limbs, their armour fused with their bodies, pitch-black eyes, a faint purple aura, and a visible mark of Sathmog. Lou spoke, and his voice made the third humanoid jump from its position. It exhorted him, calling Lou by name and demanding that he leave this place. It was in that moment that Lou found his lost brother, Dennis.
He was half demented, his eyes milky white, and his body showed no demon mark. In his state, he tried to push Lou out of the room while also stabbing him with a dagger, having lost all control. One moment he recognised Lou, the next he snarled at him.
Attempts were made to restrain him; he broke free a couple of times. During these events, the party was also fighting the other two twisted and demented cultists.
Once the altercation had finished and Dennis had been restrained, they searched the room more thoroughly. They found that the fire on the altar was burning without any fuel, and that the paintings on the walls depicted demonic beasts and priests with dark auras sacrificing bound dragons under a violet sun.
Arcturus had to keep Anser under his arm, as the fox pup was enthralled by the colours of the portal and what lay beyond it, almost falling victim to its inviting, shimmering glow.
Having investigated the place and brought Dennis under control, they decided to leave the temple and see what they could do about Lou's twisted brother.
The party investigated the altar room, including the frescoes, the altar, and all the spaces that had been used for partial accommodation.
During the investigation, Shanna realized that her hammer, Fiendcrusher, had a faint blueish glow. She suspected that there was a demonic presence or energy in the room.
The party discovered that the four sun reliefs on each side of the altar could be pressed. After trying various combinations, they pressed them all together at the same time, revealing a small compartment lined with velvet containing a bone mask. Holding the mask close to Fiendcrusher made the light dimmer. Arcturus put on the mask, and some of his willpower was absorbed by it to power an unknown magical effect.
They stepped through the west door toward the guardroom, where they found the remains of a large, six-legged beast bound in shackles. None of them recognized it as a creature from this world. Kaelen remembered that prolonged exposure to demonic energy could twist flora and fauna, which explained the vines and briars, as well as this skeleton. There must be a portal to a demonic plane in this temple. They picked up an oil lamp and used the key given to them by the cultist group they had met on the way there to open the west door. A narrow spiral staircase led downstairs.
At the bottom, they were ambushed by a cultist who could use magic and was wielding a staff made of bones and skulls, which he had hidden in the dark. After disposing of him, the party found themselves in a small chamber. This chamber contained a desk with some papers on it, as well as a small mattress in one corner. There were also some chains and shackles. From the slightly ajar door to the east, they heard the roar of a large beast. Here, things were put into motion: the desk was flipped and placed against the door while the remaining oil from the lamp was spread on the doorframe. At the same time, their beast hunter, Kaelen, went berserk, jumped over the desk, and entered the neighboring chamber in search of the beast.
In the vaulted hall, Kaelen found what used to be a manticore. This enlarged, twisted beast, distorted by unknown energies, prowled the hall, unable to leave through the doors.
A fierce battle erupted, with Kaelen being the only one in the hall with it, until Shanna appeared like a wraith, hammer in hand, to help her. She opened a gushing wound on the manticore's face, blinding it in one eye.
During the fight, the manticore's powerful body pinned Lou down, and after some clawing, it managed to knock him unconscious. This was the best death for Lou, painless... except that the pain was felt by one of his companions, injuring them, making them scream, and leaving them light-headed.
After several more rounds of savage altercations, they managed to defeat the twisted beast.
While Grimm and Shanna recovered, Kaelen gathered trophies and Lou's poison from the beast's spikes. Meanwhile, Arcturus investigated the room and found a small, low iron door, behind which was a half-dead cultist begging for help. As he approached the door, several hands and heads of reanimated skeletons emerged, offering him help and knowledge. Arcturus refused any help and went back to the group.
They left the hall behind and returned to the small study/sleeping room, where they found a secret door on a wall covered by vines. Inside, they found a grimoire and some other treasure.
As they were tired and it was late, they decided to leave the temple and sleep for the night. They hoped that tomorrow would be better.
After Shanna returned from the inn with news from Grub, Lou was unable to sleep. The knowledge that his brother had worked at the town stables kept spinning in his head. He left the hut and walked straight to the stables, sausage in one hand and his brother’s last letter in the other. There, he tried to coax the dogs into sniffing the letter to see if they would recognize the smell, but to no avail. He lured the old hunting dog back to the hut with the sausage. He named him Baloo.
Morning in the hut was agitated when the dog and fox pup encountered each other in close quarters. The fox escaped into the town, which was covered in light snow. After a small breakfast, discussions about the dog ensued; someone wondered if the dog was a shapeshifter.
They left the town before midday with the rations prepared by the miller. Everyone except Lou and Baloo went to the stables to collect Silly the mule. Niala had prepared Silly by brushing her hair and braiding her mane. She sent them off with a batch of Denis’s favourite pastries: pancanellas, which were buns with lots of cinnamon-flavoured glaze. She was a little concerned about her dog, Bones; she hadn’t seen him that morning.
The first day of their trip north towards the Temple passed quietly. They shared the pancanellas and enjoyed travelling under the first snows of winter in the Misty Vale.
By nightfall, they had found a place to camp, and the evening went smoothly.
The morning started off eerily calm and cold. After a brief breakfast, the party packed up and returned to the road, thick black clouds rolling in from the north.
In the afternoon, a heavy storm halted their progress, forcing them to seek shelter in the undergrowth of the forest. When the storm passed, it left behind a group of wet and cold adventurers.
As night fell, they had no choice but to look for a suitable place to camp, have dinner, warm up, and dry their clothes. They pitched the tents and lit a fire. They sat around the fire and talked about their pasts and told jokes. Kaelen started calling the dog by its real name, much to Lou’s annoyance as he had been trying to make the dog answer to "Baloo". Towards the end of the evening, Shanna revealed that each of them had made a deal with a demon to save their lives and escape the time loop in Blackridge, which made Kaelen flustered and unhappy.
After breakfast, they returned to the road in the rain. As they approached the bridge, Shanna lost her footing while having a vision of her brother falling from a tree. This left her worried and concerned about what was going on.
As they crossed the bridge, they started making plans about how to approach the temple, such as dressing up as cultists, marking themselves, or taking the karkion prisoner to the cult.
On the way up the forested hills towards the temple, they saw a group of people walking down. Some of them hid while others waited in the road. Lou and Shanna talked to this group. They looked ragged and hungry. They asked for food in exchange for a small key that was supposed to open a door in the armoury. It was the only valuable thing they had. They also told them that they were cultists and that they had left the temple a couple of days ago because the priestess returned raging mad, threw one of them into a pit trap, and left. They looked so ragged because they had encountered a group of harpies and barely escaped with their lives. Shanna and Lou gave them some rations, received the key, and let them go.
That night, after the encounter with the cultists, they camped in the forest, but they didn’t light a fire, a smart choice, as they heard the screams and the sound of wings battling in the air from a small group of harpies while they were on guard. They remained silent, and the harpies didn’t find them.
They woke up to a weak sun and lazy snowflakes falling. They left the cover of the forest and ventured back onto the path towards the Temple.
As the afternoon passed, they reached the top of the hill and were able to fully take in the impressive and oppressive façade of the Temple of the Purple Flame, a name given by the murals on the exterior of the building. They saw this partly dilapidated stone structure with collapsed towers and spires, covered in overgrown vegetation dominated by huge briars with formidable thorns. The door stood slightly ajar.
Lou, always courageous, approached the door and started screaming into the depths of the building. No one answered his calls. As they entered the vestibule, Arcturus started to check the murals covered in vines depicting demonic monsters vanquishing dragons. Suddenly, one of the vines moved and slashed his face. Wanting to avoid touching these walls, they moved towards the northern door, avoiding a pit trap, and entered the altar room.
This was a spacious room with a domed ceiling and a black-green stone altar. On each side of the altar was a relief of demons battling dragons under a violet sun. It had clearly been used as an altar, as evidenced by the candles, braziers and metal branding sticks bearing the mark of Sathmog. However, it had also been used as living quarters for a group of cultists; there was still a makeshift bed in a corner. A brass gong hung on the wall, waiting to be struck.
The icy wind of the Misty Vale night filters through the cracks in the shack that used to be Branik's. The party is shaken by tonight's events: the dead people, Anabella's escape, Quasimund's death, and Arcturus's magical backfire.
For the first time in days, Lou Holt is responsive and reactive. He chats and asks questions, getting all the news and happenings at once. Meanwhile, Anser curls up next to him, calming his nerves.
The next morning, the 22nd of Coalfrost, icy wind and drifting snow stick to the streets, buildings, and inhabitants of the Outskirts. The town is already quiet, the air heavy with grief and unspoken blame.
They decide to talk to Vagnhild, but on their way, Anabella's house door catches their attention. Everything looks quiet; even the blood spilled the night before is now masked by a thin layer of undisturbed snow. The door is locked, but they open it with their unsubtle axe-hacking ways. This calls the attention of a couple of town guards who are on patrol. Inside, they find Quasimund's dead body, just as Annabella left it. They rummage around the cabin, trying to find clues or something. They find poison and a cage with a sleeping demonic bat on the second floor. At that moment, an angry Hardy comes stomping into the house, alerted by the guards. He asks them all to leave. Grimm blocks the bedroom door, Annabella's, and starts searching with renewed vigor. Lou hides in a corner of the house, pocketing the poisons. When Hardy finally makes it into the bedroom and finds Grimm searching under the bed, they exchange unpleasant words. Grimm tells Hardy that it is his fault the townspeople are dead because of his lack of skill in managing the town's guard and security. Hardy turns red, holds himself back from a physical altercation, and escorts Grimm outside. He closes the door behind him and stomps toward the Three Stags.
There, Hardy storms out of Vagnhild’s private quarters, his face still flushed with anger. Vagnhild carries the weight of the past days, the chest, Alfilia's armor, five townsfolk dead, Jory clinging to life, and the party’s recklessness. The break-in at Anabella’s, as if the town belonged to them, and Grimm’s words blaming of Hardy had been the final straw. Hardy had demanded she banish them for good
When she speaks, her voice is firm but not unkind. She tells them to leave Outskirt for a few days, not as punishment, but for the town’s sake. Arcturus reacts immediately, his pride stung. He argues that they were only trying to root out the cultists, that the town would be worse off without them. Vagnhild doesn’t bother to justify herself further. She just meets his eyes, her silence making it clear this isn’t up for debate.
No one mentions the five dead. Meanwhile, Lou, still hiding in the house, rummages for anything of value. He tries one of the poisons on the sleeping bat. The bat becomes paralyzed and falls down. Lou kills the defenseless bat. He leaves the house and, before meeting the others, sells the items he found.
After these events, they decide to gather their resources, buy a pack animal, and venture into the valley. They leave town and head towards Rowan's Post. As soon as Lou enters, Niala, the woman running the post, mistakes him for his brother Dennis. The shock silences them both for a moment. Lou discovers that his brother used to work there before he disappeared. Niala tells him that his brother left with a group of adventurers on their way to the Temple of the Purple Flame, but that was over a year ago. They acquire a sturdy mule named Silly. She is cross-eyed and has a small limp, but they are assured that she is the hardest-working and strongest mule in the post.
They also talk with the Chubbycheek couple, the halflings who run the mill in town, and buy multiple bags of typical halfling traveler's rations, a sturdy, cookie-like bread containing high amounts of animal fat and fried pork chunks.
Shanna stays behind at the Three Stags, covering shifts while Vagnhild helps Hardy and the town grapple with the aftermath of the night’s chaos.
Later, during her shift, a group of cloaked orcs and goblins enter the inn, paying for food, drink, and beds. Their demeanor is subdued, their eyes wary. As Shanna steps into the kitchen, a small, hooded figure slips in behind her. When the hood falls back, she recognizes Grub, his usual mischief replaced by something grim. He presses the stolen statue piece into her hands.
"Maladûk is dead" he says. "Ukka killed her." He glances nervously toward the common room, where the other orcs sit. "She’s gathering whats left of the clans. Not to fight the cultists, not to find the statue, she’s done with that. She wants the old ways back. The days before the mist, before the monsters, before kin. She’s taking the Tower of Sighs first. But to get there, she’s got to go through Outskirt." His grip tightens on Shanna’s wrist. "She’s coming for kin. As soon as the snow melts, the troops move. We’re leaving. We won’t be part of this. But you should know: she’s changed the orders. Some orcs will listen, some won’t. Either way, don’t expect mercy. She won’t care if you’re cultists, travelers, or explorers... you’re all in her way now."
Before Shanna can respond, the kitchen door swings open. Grub melts into the shadows as Vagnhild returns, her face drawn. Shanna hesitates, then tells her everything. Vagnhild’s last bit of hope vanishes.
Back at the cabin, Shanna hands the fake statue piece to Arcturus and relays Grub’s warning. The Tower of Sighs. Ukka’s madness. The coming war. The party knows the truth of it, they were there in the loop with her, watched her madness, even Grimm had a glimpse of the axe. Now she’s bringing that fury to the valley, and winter won’t protect them forever.
That evening at the shack, after stealing the chest from Quasimund, the party discussed what to do the following day. Leaving his reckless and foolhardy spirit aside, Grimm asked Arcturus to scout the barn with the help of his familiar. The fox headed to the duck's dwelling, but everything was dark and quiet.
It was a grey, chilly, rainy morning. The town was quiet. In the shack, Arcturus, Grimm, and Shanna were deliberating about what to do about the current situation. There was more talk about sending the fox, but in the end, the party decided to head to the Three Stags Inn. On their way, Marc, the nosy neighbour of the Master Weatherman, was talking with a group of townsmen. They were concerned about Quasimund because the duck was screaming about thieves and doubling the tax collection for the next week.
When they arrived at the inn, it was quiet. Soon, however, villagers started gathering there, complaining about Quasimund and his gang of bullies. They were more on edge than usual and roughing folks up more than before. Word on the street was that someone had stolen the tax money, and Quasimund was on a quest to recover it from Outskirt's pockets.
When more people started gathering, Annabella asked to leave her shift early because she was worried about the events. Vagnhild, always the accommodating boss, asked if Shanna, who was already there, could take over. Shanna, honest and selfless, accepted and started her shift right then.
A few hours later, Jory arrived at the inn bearing a message from Hardy. Five minutes later, Vagnhild left the inn, leaving Shanna in full charge until her return.
After Vagnhild left, Arcturus and Grimm began spreading rumours that Quasimund had kidnapped Knight Alfilia. They were quite successful, and the group of townspeople gathered became enraged. They talked about driving the duck out of town. When Vagnhild returned from her talk with Hardy, the mob started screaming. She failed to de-escalate the situation, and they left the inn looking for the Duck. After admonishing the party for their involvement and creation of the current situation, Vagnhild sent Arcturus and Grimm to stop the townspeople from starting something they couldn't finish.
Meanwhile, a lonely Karkion was about to enter town from the North Gate. But before she made it there, screams and noises called her attention from the stables, where there was a group of angry and drunk townspeople taking pitchforks, brooms, and creating bolas out of horseshoes and rope. Realising she could not do anything there, she crossed the gate, and headed directly to Three Stags Inn, where she was welcomed by a worried and sarcastic Vagnhild, "Just my luck! Welcome saviour of Road's End Inn!"
They exchanged greetings, some talk about the current situation, but Kaelen let them know that some days ago, while scouting the Temple of the Purple Flame, she saw a group of cultists dragging a barely clothed and chained Alfilia. Their direction, northwest towards the Mirror Lake.
While Shanna was chatting with Vagnhild and Kaelen, Arcturus and Grimm found their mob, but as their luck ran out, the angry townspeople also found Quasimund and his gang. An uneven, unbalanced fight took place, where Quasimund weaseled away without being noticed. Grimm looked for him, and Arct went around the group, and cast some fireballs towards the bullies, but at that moment his determination faltered, perhaps fear of burning the people of the town, and the spell exploded on his face, burning his eyebrows and sending him 4 meters back, shocked.
At the same moment that Arcturus suffered a magical hiccup with inconvenient results, Grimm found Quasimund inside Annabella’s house, desperately demanding her help. Thinking herself alone with him, Annabella reacted fast as lightning, drawing a dagger and striking twice at the duck’s neck, killing him on the spot. She then turned and screamed for help. Grimm witnessed it all and realised how dangerous she is.
Grimm picks up Arcturus, and in haste takes him back to the Inn, as the farmers, trappers, and drunkards also ran away from the fight, leaving five dead bodies behind.
They collect Vagnhild, Shanna and Kaelen, close the Inn, and go back towards the massacre. There they find Jory calming down a shocked Anabella, while Hardy tried to get a hold of the situation, not believing what has happened. The gang of bullies is nowhere to be seen. As they reach Anabella's house, they find the body of Quasimund with his left forearm discovered, and on it, the mark of Sathmog, the mark of the cult. The party pressures Vagnhild to check on Annabella's house, as they say she is not who she says she is. Vagnhild only trusted Shanna's word. And while she went in to inspect, a swarm of demonic bats attacked all people involved. Anabella used the same technique to subdue Jory and ran away, while Grimm and Kaelen pursued her. The rest of the group with Hardy, with much difficulty, slew the swarm of oversized and overaggressive bats.
Kaelen and Grimm could not catch Annabella, and they stop the chase as soon as six cultists, Quasimund's gang, stepped out of the South Gate and covered Anabella's retreat.
Back in the middle of town, the party regrouped, while they tried to stabilise and help a really injured Jory, and Hardy started deputising people from the neighbourhood to remove the dead bodies of their fallen fellows.
The shack was quiet in the morning, the frost still clinging to the boards. With ownership came a new worry: upkeep. Coin had to come from somewhere.
Each of you looked for a way to anchor yourselves in Outskirt.
Shanna spoke with Vagnhild at the Three Stags. By evening she had a job, working the late shift. Vagnhild seemed relieved, Annabella had been eager to reduce her hours. The pay was modest, but it came with food, easing the burden of keeping the shack standing.
Grimm went to Edric. Winter had tightened the Vale’s supply lines, and caravans to Dareholt were becoming risky. Edric offered work guarding the next trip through the pass, leaving on the 12th.
Arcturus spoke with Hardy. What began as a discussion about record-keeping and patrols soured briefly over coin, but in the end Arcturus joined the night watch, walking Outskirt’s streets after dark.
From the 12th onward, the week split the party.
Grimm left Outskirt with the caravan bound for Dareholt: two carts, four horses, six people in all. The road held, the trade went through, and the return began without incident.
Near the pass, the sky darkened.
A vast shadow slid across the ground. Wings. Spines. An elongated snout cutting through the clouds.
Panic took hold. One horse tore free and fled into the mountains. Old memories burned back into Grimm, dragonfire, death, and dying again. They reached Outskirt a day late, shaken but alive. The coin was paid all the same.
Back in Outskirt, those same days passed more quietly... at least on the surface.
Shanna worked her shifts at the Three Stags. Patrons came and went. Stories circulated. One woman stood apart from the rest.
She wore a blue glove and spoke carefully, meeting travelers in hushed conversations at the edges of the common room. One night, Shanna caught fragments of a discussion, something about smoking cultists out of town.
The woman called herself Serenya. Beneath her cloak, Shanna glimpsed chainmail. Before the week was out, Serenya left Outskirt, a broadsword strapped across her back.
Arcturus walked the night patrols. Mostly boredom, until voices carried from Master Weatherman’s old house. Not inside. Around back. A door opened. Closed.
Immediately , Arcturus sat against a neighbor’s wall and sent the fox slipping through the alleys.
Through its eyes, he saw Annabella and Quasimund entering a barn behind the houses. The place reeked of sweat, filth, and too many men living too close together.
Inside, voices carried clearly enough:
“The package left the temple toward the isle.”
“Why is the armor still here?”
The link snapped.
Marc found Arcturus slumped in the street and helped him inside, pressing warm tea into his hands. By morning, the rumor had already begun: the new guard had been found drunk and unconscious on duty.
That evening, you gathered in the shack and compared fragments of the week.
What Arcturus had seen mattered.
A plan formed, uneven, rushed, and full of hope.
Shanna would take one of Annabella’s tablets from the inn.
Arcturus would forge a message, drawing Quasimund to the temple.
Grimm would stay close, watching the gang.
The next day, the plan began to unravel almost immediately.
Annabella was home, cooking. The smell of stew filled the street.
You regrouped at the Three Stags. Quasimund and his men were drinking, playing Grave Toll. Grimm stayed behind to watch them.
Shanna and Arcturus slipped away.
The barn door was unlocked.
Inside: coin, chains, manacles. A chest heavy with money. A suit of full plate marked with the signs of the Keepers. And a false wall leading to a gap in the palisade.
Arcturus tried to move the chest alone. It scraped. Shanna hesitated, and then reluctantly helped.
Together, you dragged it through the hidden exit, out of town, and around to the south gate.
Hardy was waiting.
He listened. He frowned. He said what everyone already knew: Outskirt had no sheriff, no law strong enough to move openly against Quasimund. Still, he hid the chest in his home and promised to keep the town steady. Unhappy and worried, he sent Arcturus home without finishing his shift. Arcturus had brought him a problem, and Hardy had done enough for one night.
Shanna returned to the inn pale and shaken. Vagnhild pressed a drink into her hands without asking questions.
That night, you met again in the shack. The chest was hidden. The barn was compromised. Quasimund still drank at the Three Stags.
Outside, winter tightened its grip.
They woke on the 6th of Coalfrost to a clammy, lightless morning. Lou barely managed to rise from Canutus’ bed, his gaze unfocused and hollow. Before they set out, Grimm, Arcturus, and Shanna told Canutus everything they could remember of Blackridge. He listened without interruption.
They turned south toward Outskirt.
Early on the road, Grimm caught movement in the underbrush to their left, a wolf, perhaps. Or something that wanted to be seen. Distracted, he missed a wasp nest, and Grub blundered straight into it. Stung and furious, he fled into the river and emerged soaked, swollen, and cursing.
Later they found a dead trapper. His chest was split open, his head removed with a clean, practiced axe stroke. They wrapped the head and carried it with them, uneasily wondering if Ukka had already passed this way.
That night, by the fire, the talk turned to Ukka again. The others said she might be heading toward Maladûk. Grub grew quiet. Worried. Before dawn, he was gone, carrying their warning with him.
In his sleep, Arcturus screamed, dreaming of his leg caught in a bear trap. He woke to real cries echoing from the dark, sharp, broken sounds like a fox in pain. Grimm followed them and found a white fox pup, its leg caught fast. He freed it and carried it back toward camp.
While Grimm was gone, Arcturus examined the shard. It pulsed with heat. He pushed blood and will into the stone, and pain took him at once. When Grimm returned with the pup, both Arcturus and the animal lay collapsed by the fire.
In his vision, a dying vixen whispered of the thing that fell from the sky, that drank without hunger, that killed without need, and begged him to keep the pup safe. When Arcturus woke, the bond remained. The fox would not leave him.
They rested and recovered. When they broke camp the next morning, Arcturus realised the false statuette was gone. Grub had taken it.
They reached Outskirt that evening.
At the smithy, Okald named the dead man: Branik, a trapper with no family. Vagnhild thanked them for returning his head and said Branik’s shack south of town would stand empty, theirs, if they wished, come morning.
They slept in Annabella’s old room at the Three Stags.
The next day, they told Astara what had happened in Blackridge. He had no answers. As they asked for more information, things he couldn't answer, he remembered an old belief, of an Oracle somewhere in the Vale. A child had gone missing a couple of days ago. Some whispered of sacrifice.
Before midday on the 8th of Coalfrost, Vagnhild led them to Branik’s shack.
A roof. A door. A place that did not move when time broke.
For now, it was enough.
Ix was waiting.
Angry now. Amused no longer. He offered no clever bargains, only one demand: someone must take Kato’s place, sign the contract, and burn forever. They refused. The fire came. They died again.
In the hours that followed, they planned. Split. Lied. Bargained.
Grimm and Shanna brought Ukka and Thorendil to the tower. Arcturus and Lou slipped inside by other ways, Arcturus lingering among Kato’s laboratories and reference halls, places of rot and vivisection, learning what he could before the flames returned. Lou climbed higher, alone, toward the door behind which Ix waited.
At the summit, everything unraveled.
Thorendil signed the contract. He did not vanish. When the fire came again and the afternoon returned, he was still there, crawling where Kato once had, understanding too late what he had agreed to become.
Ukka accepted a different bargain. Her axe changed. Her eyes gleamed. She disappeared.
Grimm broke next. He accepted the deal and vanished without a word.
When the fire came again, Shanna died. Arcturus kept reading until the heat took him.
Grimm awoke outside the loop, rain-soaked and shaking, beside Ukka. She smiled once, stood, took her axe, and walked away into the dark. Grimm watched her go, certain, or afraid, that the blade had winked at him.
Inside the loop, Shanna, Lou, and Arcturus continued. They tried water, tools, and tricks pulled from stolen notes. It was not enough. Without Grimm, there was no path through.
Arcturus accepted the deal.
Shanna followed, looking back at Lou with wet eyes before she vanished.
They returned outside the loop, changed and silent, greeted by Grimm and Canutus.
Sixteen more hours passed.
Sixteen more deaths.
At last, Lou accepted his bargain. He asked only for a painless end. Ix embraced him, smiling, and Lou vanished between the demon’s arms.
He appeared after dusk.
The rain still fell. The barrier still shimmered in the distance. Blackridge remained trapped in its endless afternoon, and Ix continued his feast, now upon Thorendil, who crawled and burned and crawled again.
They had not broken the curse.
They had only bought their way out.
They walked toward the village, and when they looked back, the barrier was gone. No shimmer. No tent. No Canutus. Only the road behind them, as if it had always been so.
Blackridge lay ahead. The village square was small, paved in stones forming the image of a rearing dragon. The black tower loomed close, its shadow never quite leaving the ground. A farmer with a walking stick hurried toward them, flustered and polite, asking for help rounding up sheep that had fled north. He spoke in an old manner, and named this place a fief of Kato the Curious, trusted wizard of Emperor Eledain, speaking of a time centuries before their own.
They wandered the town. Beneath the tower, a foul heap of dung lay piled below a strange horizontal pole jutting from its side. Sheep grazed there, nibbling pale mushrooms. A lone sheepdog moved among them, calmly guiding the flock. When it barked and circled wide, the sheep bolted, not away, but up, bursting into the air and racing off faster than thought.
Things unraveled quickly after that.
At the Blazing Breath, Grimm crossed words with Ukka, a broken orc once sworn to darker causes, and Thorendil, a mage whose mind had been chewed hollow by sleepless years. Blood was spilled as Ukka wouldn't talk to Grimm without a fight, and Grimm poisoned her and killed Thorendil. Elsewhere, the tower’s guardian Gorm, a velvet-clad cave troll with a fondness for plums, barred the way to his master.
Then the sheep returned.
They came screaming over the square, flying low and fast, smashing into stone and timber, bursting like sacks of meat. The crowd’s cries drowned out the sound of wings, until dragons fell upon the town. Fire erased Blackridge.
And then...
They were walking toward the village again.
The farmer greeted them as before. The square was whole. The afternoon unchanged.
The loop revealed its shape slowly. Ukka waited here to die. Thorendil withered between cycles. In the hills they found old reliefs of Mormel the Tall, and warnings carved with bitter humor: Do not approach the east side of the tower without a nose clip. Gorm likes plums. Nearby, a still place existed, a circle where time did not reset, where rest and memory held.
At last, with fire always coming, they ran the tower.
At its peak lay Kato, ruined by stroke and fear, crawling endlessly toward a contract he could never reach. Beside him sat Ix, radiant and obscene, feeding on the wizard’s humiliation. The demon froze time and offered escape, anything they desired, for a favor yet unnamed.
They refused.
Steel flashed. Magic burned. Lou was changed into a cat. Shanna struck true. Grimm seized the contract. Arcturus burned it, and Grimm with it. Kato died smiling. Ix screamed.
Time resumed. Dragons came. They burned.
Again.
Only Lou escaped the fire, leaping from the tower as a cat, dying on the stones below.
Then the afternoon returned.
And Blackridge waited.
They did not linger near the crater. With the shard wrapped and humming softly, the company turned north toward Blackridge, leaving the smoking wound behind them.
At the edge of the Haunted Marshes they found shelter in a derelict watermill. It was not empty. Two wanderers shared the fire there: Tharga, a human, and Borga, an orc, monster hunters and musicians, waiting out the marsh before crossing into the mountains. Food was shared, and songs. One of them, The Ballad of the Dragon Knight, struck Lou like a remembered dream. It was a lullaby his mother once sang. When the song ended, something had taken root in him, a strength carried by words and melody, able to stir courage or awaken fear.
The next day they crossed a narrow river on a raft of ice shaped by Arcturus. Mosquitoes rose in a biting cloud, and Grub suffered badly. Hoping to help, Lou offered him a mushroom. Instead, visions took hold. Grub stripped, raved, and plunged naked into the water while the others made camp in uneasy silence. That night, Arcturus dreamed of a watching shape, dog, fox, or wolf, just beyond the firelight.
Rain followed them north. A boar charged from the brush and was slain; Grimm skinned it clean, and that evening they ate well despite the cold and wet.
On the fourth day they reached the mountain pass, an ancient barricade layered with warnings in tongues long dead, urging all travelers to turn back. They climbed it anyway. Grimm fell hard, bloodied but alive.
Beyond the pass, Lou spotted a shimmering barrier in the distance, and nearby a small tent. There they met Canutus Boetii, an academic who spoke of an event horizon and showed them its only known weakness: grains of guano draconis that glowed and vanished when cast against the barrier.
After a brief deliberation, they stepped through.
The world shifted.
They emerged into an eternal autumn afternoon. A small village lay ahead, sheep wandering its edge, houses clustered around a tall black tower. Crows circled above it, and the light was already fading.
The party returned to Outskirt late in the afternoon. In the town square, stalls were being raised for the Festival of the Last Light, the yearly end-of-month gathering when merchants, travelers, and musicians fill the streets with chatter and smoke. Laughter and the ring of hammers mixed uneasily with talk of the meteor shower that had lit the Vale only nights before.
They made their way through the crowd to Astara’s home in Wellsend. The scholar nearly burst with joy on seeing the shard, proof that his research had been right all along. He turned it in his hands, beaming, and spoke of how “the fragments sing faintly to their kin.” He could offer little more for now, though he shared rumors of Kato the Curious and his haunted tower in the far northeast, and suggested they seek the hermit Dranath, who might know older lore.
Following his advice, the adventurers stopped by the bakery to buy gifts, sugared doughnuts, and met the harried halfling baker Baryton, before climbing toward the temple square. On the way, Tomas stopped them, haunted by memory.
“Before Bela’s last trip,” he said softly, “I saw her speaking with a stranger, a woman with one blue glove. After that… she was different.”
He had glimpsed the same woman again only days ago. The confession left him shaken.
At Dranath’s hut, smoke drifted from the thatched roof and the scent of herbs filled the air. The wrinkled mystic welcomed them with a grin and a mouthful of pastry. When Arcturus showed him the false statuette, the hermit dispelled its lingering glamour and spoke of the legend of Um-Durman, the sword of the Dragon Emperor, the blade of life, forged to keep balance between dragons and demons. He warned that four true fragments of a sacred statuette are needed to open the crypt where the sword now rests, somewhere beneath the Vale.
After sharing what he knew, and requesting more doughnuts, Dranath mentioned hearing strange hissing voices at night near the old wall. The company left him to his meditations and returned to the Split Cup to rest, unwilling to stay another night beneath Annabella’s roof at the Three Stags.
The next morning, on the 36th of Ashfall at the Festival of the Last Light, townsfolk drank watered wine and cheap ale, bartering, laughing, pretending nothing was wrong. Lou mingled with local youths, learning that the hunters and foragers at the Split Cup dealt in herbs and illicit mushrooms. Arcturus received from Astara a few precious pages of a grimoire and spent the afternoon copying the spell by candlelight, while Shanna bartered with Theobald, a traveling trader who sold her a fine set of lockpicks. Before they departed, Lou pressed a few coppers into Grub’s hand to fetch ale for the road, then urged the others to slip away before the goblin returned. Yet Arcturus lingered towards the gate, unwilling to truly leave him behind. By dusk, with supplies packed and tempers cooled, the adventurers left Outskirt once more, bound east toward the fallen star.
On the first day of the new month, they found it, a crater of cracked earth and scorched trees, the air thick with sulfur and burned resin. At its heart lay a black stone streaked with yellow and violet light, humming when touched, its tone low and alive. At the crater’s edge sprawled the husk of a beast, not burned, but drained. None dared touch it themselves; instead they sent Grub, who crept forward and pried the humming shard from the scorched earth. The Vale was silent as they turned away, leaving the smoking wound behind them.
Deep within Riddermound, in the tomb of the wight, the company uncovered their first true fragment of the Dragon Emperor’s statue. The shard lay hidden in a stone compartment, which Shanna boldly smashed open with her warhammer. The choice nearly cost them their lives, as razor-sharp blades lashed out, but the group endured and claimed the relic at last.
A giant spider briefly barred their path, but the adventurers slammed a gate before it, slipping deeper into the mound. There they discovered the crushed bodies of Grub’s missing companions, the rest of his goblin band, slain in some unseen struggle. Lou was soon seized by a vision not his own: he looked out over a city of horn-spired towers, only to see a golden knight astride a dragon diving toward him. The memory lingered like a brand upon his mind.
With treasure, relic, and Grub in tow, the party emerged from Riddermound alive. Shanna now strode resplendent in new chainmail, wielding Fiendcrusher, the jeweled hammer. The adventurers left past midday, resting in shifts to recover from the ordeal.
At dawn they were confronted by a goblin warband led by an orc named Vrek. He dispatched a goblin runner, Zesh, to carry word of Riddermound, and told the company they should seek Maladûk, the orc chieftain dwelling in the dwarven mines to the southwest. With that, the warband moved on, bound for Drakmar Pass.
Later that day, as the adventurers drew nearer to Outskirt, the heavens themselves seemed to fall. A storm of meteors rained across the Misty Vale, filling the skies with fire and dread. One blazing star-stone struck the earth just east of the settlement, toward which the weary company now returns.
The oak doors slammed shut behind them, cutting off the shrieking bats. The stale air of the mound pressed in, damp and heavy, as Lou held their only torch aloft. Roots dangled from the earthen ceiling, slick with moisture. From somewhere deep in the tunnels to the east came a faint, dreadful sound: the scrape of metal on stone, and the slow, dragging steps of something that should not walk.
They pressed north, only a few steps, into the Guardhouse. A rusted portcullis barred the way, torchlight flickering through its bars from another chamber beyond. Jonas tested the mechanism but found it seized and useless. Grimm, undeterred, drove his crowbar into the grooves, wrenching the gate open with sheer strength. The noise rang through the tunnels like a dinner bell.
While Grimm worked, Arcturus prodded the armored mummies flanking the gate. Their rusted chainmail collapsed at his touch, one arm tumbling to the ground with its spear. He searched their brittle remains and found nothing but a fresh-cut strap hanging from a belt. Whoever had robbed these tombs had been here recently.
The scraping grew louder. Grimm strained. The gate groaned. And then, across the bars of the Lady’s hall, a figure began to press through. A great knight, skeletal face glaring from the shadow of a horned helm, its armor shrieking against the metal as it forced itself through. The Barrow Wight had come for them. The gate shuddered open before Grimm.
The chamber erupted into chaos. Steel clashed, spells flared, and the Wight’s morningstar smashed into the walls with ruinous force. Some of the party struck true, but most broke and ran. Lou, Grimm, and Arcturus fled west into the Servants’ Crypt, while Jonas stood his ground at the gate, and Shanna’s steps carried her elsewhere into the dark.
The Servants’ Crypt stank of rot and ruin. Niches were ripped open, bones strewn, funerary jars smashed. The tunnels looped back east to another portcullis, this one jammed with a broken half-key. Here Lou raised his voice, singing against the gloom, and from the shadows crawled Grub, a trembling goblin survivor, inspired enough to whisper that the knight must be left in peace.
Back in the Guardhouse, Jonas forced the Wight to stagger and retreat through the Lady’s hall, slipping behind an oak door marked with a silver crown. Jonas, furious and reckless, gave chase. He touched the door, and the mummified woman at the table stirred. Her face, once serene, blurred into a shimmering phantom, the Lady, guardian of the knight’s rest.
She spoke in the ancient tongue, her voice a lament: “Drakôn… Emperath… Kel’vorn thar’ul kor’veth… Fiendcrusher… thar’el ishkai vorn… Nol tal’kesh dor’vak… Tharn ul… ashar’ven… ashar…” But Jonas did not understand her words. He pulled the door open and stepped into the tomb.
Arcturus, understanding the ghost’s words, realized the mistake in Jonas’s action. The Lady had warned: "Dragon… Empire… He rode against the corruption… Fiendcrusher burns with cleansing fire… Do not break the seal… Let him sleep… let ash remain ash…"
As soon as he entered the tomb, Jonas saw the shattered sarcophagus, its lid blasted outward, and the fresco of the Dragon Knight astride his mount, helm and armor the same as the Wight’s. Within the chamber, the Wight itself waited. The Lady shrieked and descended upon Jonas, who now stood between ghost and death knight both. He tried to burn the corpse in the coffin, but found it empty, the Wight was its own body. Moments later, the morningstar struck him down.
Meanwhile, in the tunnels near the Lady’s hall, Arcturus hurled fire at the ghost and then fled back into the Servants’ Crypt. The Lady glided after him, and there she embraced him. Her spectral arms wrapped tight, and the warmth bled out of his body. A killing cold settled deep in his bones, leaving him unable to mend until he could find true warmth again.
Grub dove back into his niche. Grimm tried to rush past the Lady, but with a gesture she hurled him aside, flinging him unconscious into the tunnels. Arcturus, scorched and desperate, called fire once more, and what a fire he called... he burned her to ectoplasmic ash before collapsing at Grimm’s side.
The crypt was falling silent. The Wight had sealed its door, Jonas lay dying within, and two of their own were down. Arcturus and Lou pulled themselves together, healing Grimm and then stumbling toward the antechamber's oak doors. Grub scuttled after them, clutching a ring hung with three keys.
But there, from the oak doors, they saw Shanna. She stood in the Lady’s gilded chainmail, Fiendcrusher clutched in her small hands. Her eyes shone with grim resolve. Jonas was still inside. She would not abandon him.
The others tried to stop her, but Shanna wrenched the doors open and ran toward the tomb. They had no choice but to follow.
The battle that followed was desperate. Shanna knelt to heal Jonas, but failed. Lou recited a poem, his words sparking fire in Jonas’s heart, and the mallard pirate staggered back to his feet, furious. Arcturus drew the Wight’s hatred and lured it from the tomb into the Lady’s hall. Shanna healed Jonas at last. Lou darted forward, tripped the Wight, and pressed his torch to its fallen form.
The armored corpse screamed, dissolved into ash, and blew away on a cold breeze that came from nowhere.
The mound fell still.
Only then did Arcturus enter the tomb, and by torchlight he traced the inscriptions on the fresco:
“The Emperor’s gift lies here. Let none but the worthy claim it. Holy wrath shall consume the impure.”
And on the sarcophagus:
“Let none unworthy lift it. With iron, we answer the greedy.”
Barely twenty minutes had passed since they first entered the barrow. The party stood battered, breathless, scarred in ways both seen and unseen. Shanna bore Fiendcrusher. Arcturus carried a chill that no fire could yet warm. Jonas had skirted death and returned. Grimm was bloodied once more. Lou’s torch lay forgotten beside the Lady’s mummified body.
And in the middle of it, Grub the goblin lingered, eyes wide with awe.
With their gear packed, a freshly repaired spyglass, and a map in hand, the party left Outskirt behind. Lars, the indifferent guard at the North Gate, barely looked up as they passed. Beyond the palisade, the rolling hills of the Vale stretched ahead, open, uncertain, and waiting.
Their plan was simple: follow the old path for a day, then veer into the Iron Forest on the second. The weather held cold but dry, and the travel was easy at first.
Midway through the first day, they encountered a stranded dwarf,Halwyld, a stonecutter, whose wagon was stuck in the ruts of the road, weighed down with freshly "cut" stones. The group helped him dislodge it, and in return, he offered each of them a silver coin. He spoke of Edric Holmes, the noble from Dareholt, who was apparently paying him to strip stone from an abandoned stretch of imperial road nearby. His tone suggested he didn’t ask too many questions.
That evening, they made camp beneath the open sky. A deer was hunted, the fire lit, and the mood warm. Grimm and Lou shared had talk by the flames, one of those rare, honest conversations only found at the edge of danger. The night passed peacefully.
The second day brought storm clouds. Rain caught them early, and they lost hours seeking shelter beneath the skeletal edge of the Iron Fores. When the downpour passed, they pressed onward, but the woods greeted them poorly.
Grimm fell into a hidden pit trap and crashed down hard. Goblins emerged from the brush, quick, shrieking, opportunistic. The ambush turned bloody. Grimm fought valiantly but was brought down again, unconscious. The rest held fast. Some goblins fell, others fled into the forest shadows. When it was over, Grimm rose again, shaken, but without severe injuries.
That night, they camped cold and fireless. Shanna foraged mushrooms and herbs to stretch their rations. Grimm couldn't sleep. The brush with death lingered on him like a film he couldn't scrub away.
On the third morning, Riddermound awaited them.
In the heart of the forest clearing, a hill rose, crowned by tall standing stones. The glade was deathly quiet, and a foul odor hung in the air: a rank stench like rotting vegetables. Gobling and Warg tracks, mixed with Warg droppings nearby confirmed their suspicion, a band og goblins had passed through here, and recently. Tracks led down the hill, west and south-west, but the focus lay at the top.
There, embedded in the earth, sat a heavy square slab of stone, roughly carved and slightly shifted from its resting place. With some effort, they moved it, revealing a shaft below. A thick breath of musty air spilled up, reeking of old stone and long-dead things.
Lou was the first to descend, tied by rope, torch in hand. He dropped into a circular antechamber far below, its floor earthen and damp. A pair of oak doors stood to the north, sealed with a silvery symbol and flanked by ancient statues of armored knights. But worse: above him, on the domed ceiling, a cauldron of sleeping bats clung in a mass, unmoving... for now.
He signaled for the others. Together, they extended their ropes and one by one lowered themselves into the dark.
But stealth abandoned them. The bats awoke in a shrieking storm. Wings beat the stale air into chaos. With no time to spare, and after a quick skirmish, the group rushed the oak doors, forced them open, and slammed them shut behind, leaving the bats behind them in the pitch black.
Now inside the mound, they stood at the mouth of a cold, narrow tunnel. The path ahead split and curled in the earth like roots. Slithering insects clung to the ceiling; the ground squelched underfoot. And the air?
Heavy. Old. Watching.
Riddermound had opened its mouth. Now it waited to see what they'd do.
After speaking with Alfilia, the party sought out Toman, the town’s carpenter. Shanna had found his letter in Master Drubar’s pocket, one that spoke of someone dearly missed: Bela, Toman’s wife. She’d left for Dareholt and never returned.
They found Toman’s home and workshop tucked away in the southwestern corner of Outskirt, just past the old well near the edge of town. But before reaching his door, they were ambushed by the drunk mallard and his band of bullies, demanding toll for passage through town. Rather than escalate the situation, the party handed over part of the coin and moved on, silently weighing the cost of bloodshed against silver.
Inside the shop, Toman was carving wood, the air thick with the scent of cedar and smoke. Shanna broke the news gently, offering up Drubar’s pipe. Toman recognized it instantly, it was his work. But when the second pipe was revealed, the one Bela had carried, he crumbled. Silent sobs overtook him as he realized what he'd feared was now true.
“I should have seen it,” he muttered. “She was scared. I saw it in her hands… the way she held that pipe…”
Arcturus, without a word, had already brewed a pot of coffee and handed Toman a warm cup. The gesture was accepted without question. After a quiet moment, Toman thanked them and asked to be left alone.
But as they walked away, his door creaked open again. He stepped out, eyes still red, and handed Bela's pipe to Shanna. “No use for it now,” he said. “You’re her messengers, whether you meant to be or not.”
The group regrouped to finish errands, but Grimm came across something strange, a dead bat with a scrap of parchment tied to its leg. The message read:
“Newcomers in Outskirt. Purpose unclear. Keeping an eye on them.”
At the Smithy, the dwarven twins Okald and Badinor sold them gear and agreed to repair Grimm’s broken spyglass. Lou, ever the bard, promised to immortalize their names in verse, in exchange for some discount. The dwarves, clearly nostalgic for taverns and songs, laughed, promising him a pint if he made good on the rhyme.
That evening, the group split up.
Arcturus and Shanna returned to the Three Stags. Arcturus created a distraction, buying a round of mead for the common room and charming the locals. Annabella was kept busy, and Shanna slipped upstairs to the second floor.
Anabella’s room was sandwiched between two storage closets. Shanna picked the lock easily. Inside, the space was spartan: a bed, desk, cabinet, and hearth. She found plain clothes, a locked chest, and a half-burnt part of a note:
“[...] still waiting confirmation. Keep watching. The wolf may be useful.”
Opening the window, Shanna discovered something else: a bat cage, lashed to the outer wall of the inn, hidden between chimneys and vines. Two bats slept within, larger than expected.
She left the room as quietly as she came, but downstairs, Alfilia’s eyes caught hers. The knight beckoned her over and asked, point-blank, what she’d found. Shanna didn’t lie. Alfilia was pleased, and more than that: she hinted about a place among the Keepers, should she wish it.
Lou, meanwhile, visited the Split Cup, Outskirt’s smaller, rougher tavern. There he met Edric Holmes, a flamboyant exile from a minor Dareholt merchant house, flanked by his two surly bodyguards, Sorev and Brynn. Edric fancied himself a visionary, talking of taxes, councils, and rule.
Lou found that flattery worked wonders. They spoke of Dareholt, of Lou’s brother Dennis, and of poetry. Edric remembered Dennis heading for the Vale years ago, but hadn’t seen him since.
After some drinks, Edric had Sorev present Lou to the crowd. Lou’s poem about the twins and their Smithy earned a cheer, especially from Okald, though she did express mild disappointment that "the wolf" hadn’t come along.
In a rare moment of dwarven sentiment, Okald sang a work chant over her ale:
“Stone holds truth, and truth runs deep,
In halls of flame where old gods sleep.
Strike and shape, then let it rest,
We carve our oath in mountain’s chest.Ash and ember, forge and flame,
No hammer falls without a name.
Voices echo, past unknown,
We do not carve, we do not carve alone.When stone remembers what we hid,
And waking fire breaks the lid...
Let steel be sharp and hearts be true,
The dark beneath remembers too.”
Lou’s curiosity flared, but when he pressed for details, Badinor stepped in and steered his sister home.
Grimm, last of the trio, attempted something bolder: breaking into the late Weatherman’s house. Armed with the “sausage trick” he learned from Lou, he staked out the place while munching meat under a tree. When the moment seemed right, he crossed the street, but his chainmail betrayed him. A neighbor spotted him and politely requested he leave. Grimm, grumbling, retreated without incident.
Back at the Three Stags, the party regrouped, shared discoveries, and made a decision. It was time to leave Outskirt.
The next morning, they packed, ate a quiet breakfast, and noticed both Alfilia and Annabella were nowhere to be seen. At the Smithy, Okald handed Grimm his spyglass, good as new.
And then, they turned northeast into the Misty Vale, toward Riddermound
Though they'd arrived late to Outskirt and were offered warm food and beds at the Three Stags, sleep didn’t come right away. Curiosity, or something like it, got the better of them.
Lou, restless and brimming with conspiracies of his own making, roused Shanna, and somehow even convinced Grimm to remove his armor and join them on a midnight investigation of the inn. Arcturus, ever eager to act but in this case exercising rare restraint, chose to stay behind, either out of discipline, or perhaps surprising himself by resisting the urge to dive into the unknown.
The trio crept downstairs into the darkened common room and unlocked the kitchen door. They poked through cupboards and pantries, uncovering little of interest, though Lou did quietly pocket a particularly fine sausage. Grimm remained behind the door, watchful, while Shanna and Lou searched. It was Grimm who spotted movement, a cloaked figure in a dark green mantle descending the stairs and slipping out into the street.
They gave chase through the sleeping town, moving quietly between buildings. Grimm tracked the figure with practiced ease, leading them up the hill toward the ruined temple at Outskirt’s heart. There, from cover, they saw the figure release a bat into the sky and then step inside the shattered remains of the old sanctuary.
Peering through the warped doors, Lou caught sight of the figure searching the temple by candlelight. In a moment now known only as the sausage trick, Lou skillfully threw the sausage towards a dark corner, walked in and, claimed he'd lost a sausage. Anabella face, surprised, appeared under the hood. Somehow, it worked. Annabella, bemused and unsure, helped him look and even spoke with him about the ruins and their secrets. Outside, Grimm and Shanna listened, until Shanna, unimpressed with the situation, left them to it.
Eventually, Lou and Annabella parted ways. Grimm and Lou returned to the inn, shared their strange tale with the rest, and finally allowed themselves some rest. Only the next morning did they realize they had left the inn’s kitchen unlocked. Vagnhild, grumpier than usual at breakfast, offered them eggs, bread, sausage, and the sourest of moods, though she didn’t yet seem to suspect them directly.
Later that morning, they passed through Wellsend, all clotheslines fluttering in the autumn breeze and children chasing one another through narrow alleys, and made their way to the Paper Burrow to meet Astara.
There, they learned much:
After the meeting, the party split. Lou went to trade goods and stock up on supplies. The rest began hunting for the old house of Master Weatherman. A street urchin took their coin and ran, but with some persistence and asking around, they eventually found the place. It stood quiet and locked. Rather than force their way in, Arcturus marked the door with charcoal, a simple sign to tell if someone else entered before they returned.
At midday, they gathered beneath the desecrated statue of Emperor Eledain. Lou arrived last, arms overflowing with gear from Master Ulvar’s shop, tents, rope, and other essentials.
They met Alfilia there for lunch. Lou, never one to shy from drama, performed a fiery poem, not-so-subtly calling Annabella a “bat bitch”, which raised more than a few eyebrows. In the conversation that followed, the party shared what they had seen the night before. Alfilia took it seriously and thanked them for the information, promising to follow up on it.
And so they started preparing themselves to delve further into the secrets of Outskirt and beyond. toward Riddermound, the Vale, and whatever truths might still be hidden in the mist.
After barely surviving the brutal clash with goblins and a warg, the group took time to recover, especially Grimm and Shanna, who had come frighteningly close to death. Lou, meanwhile, missed the whole ordeal. Sleeping soundly in the cave, he emerged much later, bleary-eyed and blissfully unaware that he’d just snoozed through what could’ve been his last sunrise.
With the sun climbing higher, they set out again, finishing the long crossing of Drakmar Pass. From a high ridge, they finally caught sight of the Vale below: a swirling basin of mist, with jagged, snow-capped peaks in the north, known as the Dragonfangs, looming like the open jaws of some colossal beast.
As they descended into the lowlands, the path grew broader, worn smooth by years of cart travel and merchant feet. At one point, Arcturus paused and looked back, only to glimpse a distant figure on a ridge behind them. Hooded, clutching a staff, their arms were lifted to the sky in some unknown gesture. Before he could alert the others, they stepped behind a rock and vanished from view. No one else saw them.
Later, as the rocky slopes gave way to rolling hills and open grassland, they spotted the ruins of an ancient fortress from the late empire. No trees shielded the place, just scattered bushes and low vegetation surrounding crumbling walls and faded carvings. Arcturus studied the layout, tracing where halls and battlements might’ve once stood, and with that insight, Lou managed to uncover a hidden entrance to an old cellar.
Inside, they found a battered chest containing two relics: a glass vial of healing draught, adorned and well-sealed, and a silver amulet with a pendant shaped like a horned crown.
As the sun dipped low, grain fields stretched around them, and the rough track turned into a paved road. Smells of livestock, smoke, rot... and also fresh bread and grilled meat, drifted on the breeze. Ahead rose a palisade, behind which chimneys smoked and voices carried on the wind. This was Outskirt.
At the gate, a stern voice challenged them, Hardy, the gate warden, who demanded their names and business before waving them through and suggesting they speak to Vagnhild at the Three Stags Inn.
Inside the village, they paused in the main square before a vandalized statue, once regal, now missing arms and a face. Still, the horned crown was unmistakable. With a bit of shared knowledge, they identified the figure as Emperor Eledain, once ruler of the Dragon-worshipping empire that had spread across the Vale long ago.
Not wanting to attract attention, they made a quiet effort to conceal the emblem on Grimm’s chainmail before stepping inside the Three Stags. The inn was lively, eleven or so patrons eating, gambling, laughing, and yelling insults over games of cards and dice. One particularly loud drunk shouted, “Wager a bolt then! Or piss off and let a real wrench play!”
Vagnhild welcomed them with tankards of mead and a seat near the fire. Lou, ever the performer, asked for permission to recite a few verses. His delivery was heartfelt and poetic, possibly his best work yet, but the mood wasn’t right. A few boos, a pair of dice lobbed his way, and a couple of copper coins (thrown by a drunk, either as insult or accidental tip) were all the appreciation he got.
The food was better received. Roasted boar, potatoes, and bread served by a young woman named Annabella. Grimm flinched when he heard her name, recognizing it from the note found the pockets of the dead body in the cave.
Jonas and Shanna, worn out from travel and wounds, went straight to their rooms to rest. The others lingered, gambling a bit and soaking in the warmth and noise.
Arcturus drifted through the inn, listening for rumors. He picked up a few: cultists have been seen in the Vale, but they’re far from the only threat, goblins, orcs, bandits, and worse also roam the land. Outskirt itself, they learned, was built atop the bones of that old empire, and not everyone here can be trusted. Edric, a local trying to push taxes and government, seems widely disliked. As is a drunken mallard and his gang of roughs. And bats, yeah, bats can be seen at night...
Meanwhile, Grimm and Lou struck up a longer conversation with Annabella. She joined them at their table as the inn quieted. From her, they learned:
Unconvinced of her full story, the group kept their guard up. Lou, ever the paranoid dreamer, began musing aloud about inns being fronts for secret operations.
They also took notice of a lone armored figure seated quietly in the corner, Alfilia, who bore the emblem of the Keepers of the Immaculate Flame. The symbol was more refined than the one Igorrr had once worn, but close enough to draw their attention. Lou introduced himself as Igorrr’s former squire and informed her of the knight’s death. She didn’t believe it at first, she even laughed... until Arcturus presented the bone whistle.
That changed everything.
She ordered a round of drinks and raised her tankard to Igorrr’s memory. Shocked to hear of his death, and how it happened, she seemed to warm to the group a little.
From her they learned:
The night deepened, the fire burned low… and slowly, everyone made their way to bed.
Or did they?
Leaving Vale's End Inn behind, the party began their journey north. Mist clung to the road, and the world felt wide, cold, and quiet.
Instead of heading directly toward Drakmar Pass, they followed a western trail toward Stonehollow, looking to intercept a fast-moving waterway coming down from the Kummer Mountains. Once they reached the river at a stone bridge , they discovered an abandoned cart half-sunken in a gully. Its contents were scattered: broken tools, ink-stained cloth, shattered glass, and mismatched shoes, including a child’s sandal. There was no blood, no tracks, just wind and silence. The cart bore a sigil from a Dareholt craftsman. They explored and moved on.
They turned north, following the water upstream, away from the road and deeper into the wilds.
As night approached, they started to prepare camp by the water. While some foraged and others gathered firewood, Jonas stepped waist-deep into the cold rapids and caught fish with his bare hands. Dinner wasn’t bad. The wind howled and sleep was hard to find. A pack of wild, starving dogs was drawn by their fire, but Grimm Silvertooth threw food to distract them, and the dogs fought among themselves before fleeing.
The next day, they traveled north along the river, then turned east toward the mountains to rejoin the main path. As they neared Drakmar Pass, the wind sharpened, and the jagged peaks rose high around them.
On a rock shelf, they came upon a massive dead stone troll, curled in on itself like it died in fear. It bore burn marks and an iron-tipped spear in its shoulder. Around it: broken weapons, bootprints, and signs of a brutal fight. Something, or someone, had killed it. The party pressed on.
Late that afternoon, a strange voice in the wind reached them from somewhere along the pass. Following the sound, they noticed blood smeared across the rocks beside a narrow crevice in the mountainside. Inside, they found a natural cave, and the body of a recently killed man. A black-feathered arrow jutted from his side. He clutched a bundle under one arm, and a note was tucked into his pocket. Tattooed on his arm was a symbol, the same Rune they had seen carved into the stone in the innkeepers’ room. Inside the bundle: the base of a broken statue, carved from smooth, black stone
They rested in the cave that night, hiding their fire from view. The mountains howled around them, but nothing approached.
At dawn, they noticed fresh tracks in the pass: four sets of boots and a large beast. They prepared an ambush, using the dead man’s body as bait. Jonas climbed up to drop stones, but triggered the trap early, the sound echoed through the pass.
The group retreated to the cave entrance, while Jonas stayed above the pass, hidden in the morning mist. A short time later, four goblins and a warg rider appeared, following the trail and approaching the body left as bait.
They reached the body and continued forward. As they came level with the crevice, they spotted Grimm Silvertooth, and the fight began.
A few moments into the battle, the warg rider shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos:"Keeper! Stop this!" Grimm Silvertooth and Shanna Took held back, but Arcturus did not. He unleashed his magic in full force, pressing the attack.
What followed was a brutal fight. Both Shanna Took and Grimm Silvertooth were knocked unconscious, but Jonas and Arcturus held the line and drove the enemy back. When the dust settled, the goblins and their beast lay dead, and their fallen companions were still alive.
Still in the pantry beneath Vale's End Inn, the Party was sorting through their gear and trying to make sense of their situation. In the quiet, they heard movement behind a barrel. Sneaking closer, they threw a cloth over the shape, and discovered Shanna Took, a young Halfling.
Shanna Took explained she was the squire of Master Drubar, a mallard veteran knight. Master Drubar had come to the inn following a request from his friend Toman, who feared for someone named Bela. The same night the party was drugged, Master Drubar grew suspicious and told Shanna Took to sneak into the basement while he confronted the innkeepers upstairs.
Before they could say much more, a scream echoed from the ground floor. Grimm Silvertooth charged ahead, and the group followed. They found Master Drubar bleeding on the floor, locked in combat with Merren and Calda. A fight broke out, short but fierce. The innkeepers were defeated.
Afterward, the group searched for clues:
They tidied the inn as best they could, then took Drubar’s body down into the caves. After recovering Igorr’s remains, they cast both bodies into the pit below, where others had clearly met similar ends. Lou stood at the edge and dropped some fire of his own, a few sharp, heartfelt verses that lit the moment better than any torch.
On their way back, they stopped at the altar and realized the stone from the inn fit perfectly into a circular socket, but placing it caused no visible effect.
With more questions than answers, the group decided to leave the inn behind. Sometimes you're just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And sometimes... you were just meant to be bat food.
The group woke up on the cold, wet floor of a natural cave. They were dizzy, disoriented, their minds clouded in mist. Not amnesia, as they recognized each other, but everything was confusing and fragmented.
Nearby, they heard a scream, followed by mulching, squelching sounds, something unpleasant was happening not far from them.
The cave around them had been worked by rough, unskilled hands. The floor was slick and covered in guano, water dripped from above, and faint light filtered in where roots had cracked through the ceiling stone.
Choosing to head away from the screams, they followed a tunnel supported with strange wooden beams and trunks. After a short walk, they found a side passage opening to the left. Inside, stalactites and stalagmites caught the light, there was an impression of an exit beyond, but also the flutter of wings and bodies shifting. Lou threw a stone inside, drawing out a bat the size of a small dog. It crawled down a stalagmite, sniffed the stone, then retreated. The group decided not to enter the cave.
Continuing through the main tunnel, they came to a pit full of rotting bodies and clothing, some impaled on old spikes. Arcturus carefully climbed around it, while Grimm leapt across. On the other side, they found a few planks they used to a bridge the gap for the rest to cross.
Not long after, they spotted candlelight ahead. It led to a small torch-lit shrine, a rough altar made of black stone, with a variety of items laid out in front. As they approached, each of them felt drawn to a specific item, their memento. Upon picking it up, the mental fog cleared, and their memories returned.
They now remembered the events of the previous evening: arriving at the Vale’s End Inn after a long, rainy day and a half journey from Dareholt. They remembered Merren and Calda, the warm stew, and the two other guests, a veteran mallard knight and his halfling squire. And they remembered the man who hired some of them: Igorrr.
They realized that Igorrr was missing, and that he must have been the one screaming earlier. His memento, a bone whistle, lay untouched by the altar. Arcturus picked it up.
While trying to piece things together, the sound of wings came again, this time from the passage they had come through. The group fled into a nearby passage leading upward, where they encountered a solid stone wall. Arcturus used his torch to test the air, and when the smoke drifted through the cracks, Lou found a hidden mechanism and opened a secret door.
It led into a cellar pantry, they were underneath the inn. Their gear was stored here. They began to re-equip themselves.