Tag Archives: Fria Ligan

Continuing along the trail to the southeast after parting ways with the dwarven balloonist, the adventurers were faced with a choice: take to the water to speed up their travels or trudge overland back toward known lands? After much discussion, they decided to stay on land since they were only a day’s march from HeartsbaneContinue reading “Session 58: The Hills Have Eyes”

The Forbidden Lands breathed a sigh of relief. The colossal undead Rust Brother Teramalda was defeated. The heroes, with the aid of Veralda Bloodbeak, had achieved a renown likely to spread across the region. In the daylight hours following the battle, the monstrous, hulking husk of Teramalda’s body lay near the heroes’ campsite. Veralda, afterContinue reading “Session 57: A Balloon and a Baker”

The smoke had a taste. Bitter and mineral, like scorched iron and rot. Every breath felt borrowed as the four travelers picked their way through the ruined treeline, boots sinking into ash that still whispered with the memory of flame. The forest had not burned naturally. This was a place struck down—a battlefield turned mausoleum.

The stale air of Stonegarden, usually thick with the scent of ancient stone and dwarven toil, now crackled with an unfamiliar tension as the party made their way back into the upper marketplace.

With the winding path to Stonegarden behind them, the party returned to the mountain fortress.

The party awakens in a sprawling cavern beneath Stonegarden, a place of rumbling sounds and acrid smells.

A massive, circular stone grill dominates the chamber, with a fountain of glistening metal threads sprouting from its center. This is the lair of the dragon Scarne. The dwelvers, Rangmar and Arvia, explain that their people have been evacuated for safety and that the dragon, though intelligent, is contained for now.

The silence of the mushroom cavern was broken only by the mournful braying of Rudy the donkey. It nudged the still form of Kristov the peddler, a lifeless heap of cloth and bone, as if mourning a companion it had known far too well. Then, with a shimmer that seemed to ripple the very air, the donkey’s form wavered, elongated, and solidified into that of a gaunt half-elf.

The putrid tang of stagnant water and decaying matter hung heavy in the air, a fitting prelude to the horrors that lurked beneath the surface. Rafts, hastily cobbled together, offered scant protection as the adventurers navigated the submerged tunnels. Suddenly, the water churned, and a colossal tentacle, thick as a tree trunk, erupted from theContinue reading “Session 50: It Came from the Depths”