Hawk Diesel
Adventurer
Introduction
It is a strange feeling. For as long as you can remember, all you have known is war. You have all, in some way or another, witnessed the atrocities of The Last War. The devastation of Cyre is still fresh in your minds, and perhaps you lost loved ones during the disaster. Never before has such a scar been left on the face of the world, and never in the recorded history of Khorvaire has an entire nation vanished in annihilation. Strange as it may seem, from this tragedy there has sprung a tenuous peace while the splintered kingdoms of the continent struggle to find the source of the Mourning, and prepare for the possibility that it might happen again. The ink has yet to dry on the Treaty of Thronehold, the bodies of the war yet to be buried, and already clandestine forces have begun making their moves for power, control, or the ultimate destruction of everything you have ever loved. These are great evils, both new and ancient, and they threaten all of Eberron in its war torn and weakened state. The dragons of Argonnessen continue to study The Prophecy and prepare for what is yet to come. The Last War was but a prelude to the horrors that lie ahead, and they know that the mortal races have a role to play before all is said and done. But the Prophecy is unclear, ever shifting even as it makes itself known to those who know where to look. Perhaps somewhere in the ruins of Galifar still burns a spark of hope. If it exists, it is a dim spark, like the tinders of a dying flame. But perhaps there exist people that will fuel this spark and cast away the darkness in the distance. Perhaps, there are heroes...
The Road So Far…
Part One
Not long ago, a group of travelers came together in the town of Munch, located not far from the borders of the Eldeen Reaches and Droaam, the nation of beasts. It is a small town, but has seen much action during the course of the war. The travelers found themselves recruited by a nobleman of House Cannith, Mortrin d’Cannith, and his sentry, a massive warforged called Cannon. He commissioned the group to explore a cave outside of Munch, where he believed an ancient artifact of importance to his Dragonmarked House could be found.
Once within the caves, the party found themselves face to face with zealous worshipers of the Dragon Below. The party’s bard, Lazard, finds a living gauntlet, a symbiont, that attaches to his hand. Eventually, the party encounters the leader and god of the cultists, a vicious beholder named Xan’krul’atzl. Rather than flaying them alive and devouring their flesh, he strangely allowed them to live and even keep their prize: a warforged docent. Without questioning the monster’s unexpected generosity, they fled the caverns thanking the Host that they survived.
Outside the caves, the party joined with a druid of the Gatekeepers charged to keep watch over the cave. Hearing the story of the party and seeing the docent, she decided it would be important to accompany the adventurers to better understand the beholder’s treasure and the reasons he would so willingly let it go. The party returned to Munch and after failing to gain any intelligence regarding the docent or Mortrin, they begrudgingly handed over the docent to collect their reward.
However, before the party could collect what was theirs, Mortrin placed the docent within his sentry’s chest, activating the ancient relic. Cannon transformed and attacked. The adventurers barely survived before Cannon launched into the air and escaped through the ceiling, but out of the chaos Mortrin d’Cannith lay dead. Before the party could escape, the town guard appeared and took them into custody in an effort to understand why a member of a powerful Dragonmarked house was killed. It became clear that without Cannon or any proof of what occurred, the party was just as likely to be tried and executed for the murder of Mortrin.
Part 2
Captured, fatigued, and injured, the party had little hope of escaping their fate. In the jail, the party met a changeling, helping them escape and urging them to accompany her to an abandoned fort not far from Munch. Understanding their fate and need to find a place to hide from the authorities, who would likely follow them across the face of Khorvaire for the murder of a Dragonmarked noble, the party agreed. Using subterfuge and not a little bit of luck, the adventurers escaped the prison and made their way from Munch.
After significant travel, the adventurers came upon the Nightmare Keep, so named for how it stood to protect the denizens of Breland from the monsters and savages that would spill out from Droaam during the Last War. According to common knowledge, the keep had been decommissioned upon the Treaty of Thronehold. However, the keep was not as abandoned as previously thought, as an elemental airship had anchored outside the keep, and beings could be seen upon the walls acting as sentries.
After the mischievous antics of a short, fat wizard attempting to find food on the ship, signals beckoned to those within the Nightmare Keep. Giants, orcs, and goblinoids poured forth from the portcullis, swarming the ship. The party learns from a scared goblin looking after the ship that they are slaves to a necromancer, Kurjan Izrok, who is mining underneath the keep for Khyber Dragonshards. After being trapped on the ship and fighting for their lives, the party managed to summon a unicorn through the weave of wild magic. The boon saved the adventurers, as it was able to teleport them from the ship into the keep. The fat little wizard was not so fortunate.
Noticing that most of the monsters had left the keep to secure their vessel, the party managed to trap them outside by securing the portcullis. In the courtyard, the party freed and befriended a Winter Wolf they called Bob. The adventurers then encountered the leader of the slaves, Greshin Stillwater, and work with him to led an attack on the necromancer down within the cavernous mines.
There, the party encounters a withered, masked humanoid connected to an unnatural throne of bones and sinew. Claws sprout from the throne and spindly legs carry the necromancer, controlled by his thoughts and acting as an extension of his body. Upon seeing Izrok, Lazard the bard flies into a blind rage that he cannot explain, having a sense of recognition but no memory of the necromancer. Lazard had enough sense to guess that these feelings did not come from within, but rather from his living gauntlet. The adventurers engaged the necromancer and his pets.
During the battle, Beregond had been struck by the necromancer’s claw, knocking him down and causing his mind and arm to burn with searing pain. Flashes of images blast through Beregond’s consciousness. Images of a golden dragon, a field of jagged glass, a jungle, ancient ruins, the skeleton of a giant, the visage of Cannon but changed as his face is melded with purple flesh and sinew, smirking. But superimposed over all these images is a terrifying, seething darkness that seems to undulate and chitter maddeningly. Then suddenly, Sharn flashes, and is in ruins. You are standing in the streets, which are filled with severed limbs, entrails, and an ocean of blood. Once this vision faded, Beregond came to with a shudder. Slowly, a black and crimson dragonmark formed over his left arm. It did not appear like any known dragonmark, but rather seemed to be an aberrant mark.
Before Beregond can register the impact of this event, Izrok attempts to bargain with the adventurers, seemingly just as affected by whatever transpired as Beregond. He offers the party to take his ship, using his headband of control to drive the craft. All he wants is for them to leave. However, the party cannot be bargained with, and Kurjan Izrok is struck through the throat with a sword. It seems his lifeforce was somehow linked to whatever supports had been bolstering the mines, as the caverns began to quake and lava seep from cracks in the ground. The adventurers survive, and manage to save some of the slaves trapped beneath the mine before it fills with lava.
Following this, the party converses and learns information.
Beregond’s Aberrant Dragonmark
Lazard expressed concerns over Beregond’s aberrant dragonmark, telling tales of marks causing madness. He described how aberrant marks are rare, and when they manifest the bearer is often sought out and killed. However, Harkin has worked with those bearing aberrant marks in Sharn. He has also heard the rumors and superstition that aberrant marks are wicked, evil manifestations that cause madness, but he stated that such information is false and largely overstated. Most aberrant dragonmarks that he had encountered possess limited powers that are largely innocuous, nothing that could overall challenge the abilities of the true dragonmarked houses. However, he also said he had never seen an aberrant dragonmark as large as Beregond's, which covers the entirety of his left arm.
Greshin Stillwater
Greshin Stillwater is a human from the Shadow Marches. He once served in the war as a mercenary of House Tharashk. While he does not bear the mark of finding or name of the house, he is a member of one of the smaller, though more influential clans of the House. He is also a capable and proven warrior. House Tharashk saw opportunity during the Last War at the creation of Droaam, and sought to build diplomatic relations with the Daughters of Sora Kell. House Tharashk is a key trade mediator for Droaam, providing the country with mercenaries and laborers, while recruiting monstrous mercenaries of their own. House Tharashk also uses its ability to provide the city of Graywall with humanoid law keepers and managers, meant to help ease relations between Khorvaire merchants and the monsters of Droaam. Greshin served in Graywall as a mercenary and guard. One day he was approached by a small, frail woman with a hood covering her face. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, paper thin, and wrinkled. She stumbled and Greshin caught her gently. She gripped his hand, and there was unbelievable strength in her grip. She paused, seeming to breathe in his essence and taste his flesh with her touch. Then she sighed.
“History will forget you, but you will guide its shapers. Tell them that night is coming, brought by cold and gold, with the haunting orb that rusts the soul. What a noble goal, but at such great toll. Resist the madness uncontrolled. Misled and tricked, a dare so bold. But anger, rage, you must let go. Trust in cold, respect the gold, and light the dawn with eyes of old.”
It was at that moment, Greshin knew that he had encountered Sora Teraza. Soon after that, I was betrayed and found myself a slave in Kurjan Izrok’s company, seeking dragonshards to power his eldritch devices.
Bob the Winter Wolf has lost his pack. They found themselves lost in a strange storm. When they finally regained their bearings, they discovered with shock that they had wandered into the mists of the Mournland. Bob and his pack fought many monsters and discovered terrible things. But the pack could was not strong enough. Bob was gravely wounded in a fight with monsters, the only survivor. Crawling, the mists suddenly parted and he was taken by the ogres and orcs of Kurjan Izrok’s company. Since then he was nursed back to health, but only to be broken in spirit and used as a toy. He is happy to join the travelers to return to the Mournland. He is afraid, but Bob wants to rejoin his pack and finish what the Mournland started.
After this, the party manages to arrange for the keep to become a base of operations, with the slaves now freemen who work to rebuild the mine and earn wages from their labors. Those that wish to return to their families do so, but others who have nowhere to go remain to start a new live and repay the adventurers for giving them back their lives and their freedom.
Part 3
Seeking out Cannon in order to clear their names, the adventurers are led to the Mournland. The airship refuses to pass the gray mists that border the cursed land, and so the party must continue on foot. Within the mists there can be heard moans, screams, and giggles. Shades and ghosts seem to flicker in and out of existence. It is a terrifying landscape. The adventurers manage to take shelter within a magical hut created by Lazard. While there, Geb tripped, stumbling on what turned out to be a book. She picked it up and brought it with her. It is a journal. She did not notice it at first, but a severed hand stiff with rigor mortis grips the ashy tome. It must be wrenched off, breaking the fingers before it can be opened. Many of the pages have been torn from the book or burned away. Those that remain indicate the book to be an account of the Mournland by a man by the name of Wrogarr Aggan. The following is what is contained inside the journal:
Wrogarr Aggan's Journal
Day 1
Me and the guys took a job today. As usual, it was kept anonymous, with half the gold up front. The task seems simple enough. Head to some kind of House Cannith warehouse just outside where the city of Making used to be. I guess this place served as Cannith's headquarters just before the Mourning. We're supposed to run recon, see what's out there, take what salvage we can, and report back with detailed records of what's out there. The money is too good to turn down. Still, I can’t help but feel a bit… jittery. Jebot says it’s just silly superstition, that nothing bad is gonna happen. He says all the things people say about the place are just ghost stories to keep people from going into the mists. He says greedy raiders started it all so they could keep the best loot and salvage for themselves. For our sakes, I sure hope so. Anyways, this journal is meant to act as a first-hand account of what we find out in the mists. It's some kinda stipulation our employers have in order to get paid. Whatever.
Day 3
We crossed into the mists today. The moment we crossed that border I was overcome with an overwhelming sense of dread. My lungs felt cold and even at high noon darkness permeated the air. Not only that, I thought I heard the voice of my brother, Donovan. I turned and could swear it look like i could see his face in the mists. But he's been dead 12 years. I have a bad feeling about this.
Day 4
We finally broke through the mists and entered the Mournland. We found ourselved in a strange field of ruined buildings. The ground was jagged with crystal shards and deep craters. Then, suddenly we heard strange, distant giggles and laughter. All of us scattered into hiding amongst the ruins. I peered around the corner, and that’s when I saw it. An amorphous mound of goo, but covered in mouths filled with razor sharp teeth. And the sound! It starter to shriek so loud that I had to cover my ears. But it didn't only shriek. It sounded like chittering and chatting. Like a room full of voices while the teacher grinded her nails on the writing slate. I thought my skull was gonna explode and my eardrums burst. It was so loud I almost didn't hear the other scream. From across the road I saw Lanik take off shouting, “I’ve gotta get outta here!” The monster turned and saw him. The thing reacted so fast! Before anyone could do a thing, it flattened against the ground and suddenly launched itself into the air at Lanik. I watched as Lanik was slammed prone. A tendril sprouted and snaked around his leg. In a moment it vanished in an explosion of blood and bone. Lanik screamed again in agony and terror. The creature carved into Lanik’s flesh, tearing at his muscles. All the while, the monster never stopped giggling and chittering. After a few minutes, Lanik was no more but a lifeless, crimson pool. The thing squirmed away after that. At first no one moved. Then, slowly we regrouped, reassessed, and continued on. At that moment, I think it finally dawned on me just what I signed up for.
Day 12
My companions are growing more and more ill as time goes by. Our sorcerer, Manji, went mad as his skin began to fall off in sheets. Worse yet, our healer seems powerless to stop it. This land, the sights I’ve seen… no one should ever see these things. I’m convinced this place is alive. Worse yet, it’s full of hate. The longer we stay, the more it seems to pull us in. I’m considered a brave man, but I’ve never been more scared in my life. Also, I’ve noticed something strange. While everyone else suffers, I seem to be ok, at least physically. My byeshk mace blunted itself on the last monster I fought. It seems so soft now that I can carve my name into it with my fingernail. I think there might be a connection, but I’m afraid it comes too late to help me. Also, I’m not sure, but I think we are being followed. It started when we stopped by battlefield covered in dead bodies. Most were armored and still holding their weapons, some of which also happened to be stuck in other bodies. How many years has it been since the Day of Mourning? Yet the corpses are fresh as if they fell dead just yesterday, suddenly, and all at once. Also, I swear by the Dol Dorn, a few seemed to move, catching the sight just out the corner of my eye! But whenever I looked, they remained still as the grave.
Day 21
(Written in horrible scribble, most illegible. What can be read is this)
GET OUT GET OUT I MUST GET OUT! I’M THE ONLY ONE LEFT!!! I TRY TO LEAVE BUT IT WON’T LET ME! THE MIST NEVER ENDS! NO WAY OUT! TRAPPED! THIS PLACE WANTS TO SWALLOW MY SOUL! SHUT UP!!!!! IT DOESN’T SHUT UP! SOMETHING STALKS ME AND TAUNTS ME! DRIVING ME CRAZY! CRAZY!!! IT NEVER SHUTS UP! NEVER ENDS! I WANNA GO HOME! DAMMIT, LET GO OF ME! LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT!!!
In the morning, the players awake to find Lazard’s claw gauntlet, sonnected to his arm by ropey sinew, choking Beregond. The sinews are severed, killing the hand but causing Lazard’s own hand to wither and fall off painfully. After some time, the heroes find themselves fighting monsters they can’t manage. Lazard is killed, but everyone wakes up back in the tiny hut. Lazard’s hand and claw gauntlet have returned. It is strange. In addition, everyone is beginning to suffer ailments that appear to be from exposure to the Mournland. Sores, sickness, aches, joint pain, and worse.
Eventually the adventurers come across a tavern called Red Cloak Tavern. There is a friendly, plump barkeep named Norman washing a cup. He greets the players with a smile, which everyone notices to be full of teeth as sharp and pointed as shark’s teeth. He offers to put up the party for a night for free, and even provide them a good meal. All they need to do is each of them share a single story about their lives. Also, he commands them that they must not enter the door at the end of the hall. Geb insults the patron, and she attempts to leave, but finds herself back within the tavern. After sharing a good meal and their personal stories, their curiosity gets the better of them and they explore the sounds of a little girl screaming in pain. However, in the room is a banshee chained to the bed and Beregond turns to stone. Harkin barely manages to pull him out while Norman shuts the door. The adventurers are able to restore Beregond, but only after destroying a monster in the basement to retrieve the cure. Norman provides the party with a box that Harkin manages to open, giving him the ability to navigate the Mournland.
The party eventually makes it to the city of Making. There they find the entire city and all of the inhabitants have been covered in glass, preserving find the entire city covered in glass. There the fight what appear to be scavengers of magical items. The party defeats them.
It is a strange feeling. For as long as you can remember, all you have known is war. You have all, in some way or another, witnessed the atrocities of The Last War. The devastation of Cyre is still fresh in your minds, and perhaps you lost loved ones during the disaster. Never before has such a scar been left on the face of the world, and never in the recorded history of Khorvaire has an entire nation vanished in annihilation. Strange as it may seem, from this tragedy there has sprung a tenuous peace while the splintered kingdoms of the continent struggle to find the source of the Mourning, and prepare for the possibility that it might happen again. The ink has yet to dry on the Treaty of Thronehold, the bodies of the war yet to be buried, and already clandestine forces have begun making their moves for power, control, or the ultimate destruction of everything you have ever loved. These are great evils, both new and ancient, and they threaten all of Eberron in its war torn and weakened state. The dragons of Argonnessen continue to study The Prophecy and prepare for what is yet to come. The Last War was but a prelude to the horrors that lie ahead, and they know that the mortal races have a role to play before all is said and done. But the Prophecy is unclear, ever shifting even as it makes itself known to those who know where to look. Perhaps somewhere in the ruins of Galifar still burns a spark of hope. If it exists, it is a dim spark, like the tinders of a dying flame. But perhaps there exist people that will fuel this spark and cast away the darkness in the distance. Perhaps, there are heroes...
The Road So Far…
Part One
Not long ago, a group of travelers came together in the town of Munch, located not far from the borders of the Eldeen Reaches and Droaam, the nation of beasts. It is a small town, but has seen much action during the course of the war. The travelers found themselves recruited by a nobleman of House Cannith, Mortrin d’Cannith, and his sentry, a massive warforged called Cannon. He commissioned the group to explore a cave outside of Munch, where he believed an ancient artifact of importance to his Dragonmarked House could be found.
Once within the caves, the party found themselves face to face with zealous worshipers of the Dragon Below. The party’s bard, Lazard, finds a living gauntlet, a symbiont, that attaches to his hand. Eventually, the party encounters the leader and god of the cultists, a vicious beholder named Xan’krul’atzl. Rather than flaying them alive and devouring their flesh, he strangely allowed them to live and even keep their prize: a warforged docent. Without questioning the monster’s unexpected generosity, they fled the caverns thanking the Host that they survived.
Outside the caves, the party joined with a druid of the Gatekeepers charged to keep watch over the cave. Hearing the story of the party and seeing the docent, she decided it would be important to accompany the adventurers to better understand the beholder’s treasure and the reasons he would so willingly let it go. The party returned to Munch and after failing to gain any intelligence regarding the docent or Mortrin, they begrudgingly handed over the docent to collect their reward.
However, before the party could collect what was theirs, Mortrin placed the docent within his sentry’s chest, activating the ancient relic. Cannon transformed and attacked. The adventurers barely survived before Cannon launched into the air and escaped through the ceiling, but out of the chaos Mortrin d’Cannith lay dead. Before the party could escape, the town guard appeared and took them into custody in an effort to understand why a member of a powerful Dragonmarked house was killed. It became clear that without Cannon or any proof of what occurred, the party was just as likely to be tried and executed for the murder of Mortrin.
Part 2
Captured, fatigued, and injured, the party had little hope of escaping their fate. In the jail, the party met a changeling, helping them escape and urging them to accompany her to an abandoned fort not far from Munch. Understanding their fate and need to find a place to hide from the authorities, who would likely follow them across the face of Khorvaire for the murder of a Dragonmarked noble, the party agreed. Using subterfuge and not a little bit of luck, the adventurers escaped the prison and made their way from Munch.
After significant travel, the adventurers came upon the Nightmare Keep, so named for how it stood to protect the denizens of Breland from the monsters and savages that would spill out from Droaam during the Last War. According to common knowledge, the keep had been decommissioned upon the Treaty of Thronehold. However, the keep was not as abandoned as previously thought, as an elemental airship had anchored outside the keep, and beings could be seen upon the walls acting as sentries.
After the mischievous antics of a short, fat wizard attempting to find food on the ship, signals beckoned to those within the Nightmare Keep. Giants, orcs, and goblinoids poured forth from the portcullis, swarming the ship. The party learns from a scared goblin looking after the ship that they are slaves to a necromancer, Kurjan Izrok, who is mining underneath the keep for Khyber Dragonshards. After being trapped on the ship and fighting for their lives, the party managed to summon a unicorn through the weave of wild magic. The boon saved the adventurers, as it was able to teleport them from the ship into the keep. The fat little wizard was not so fortunate.
Noticing that most of the monsters had left the keep to secure their vessel, the party managed to trap them outside by securing the portcullis. In the courtyard, the party freed and befriended a Winter Wolf they called Bob. The adventurers then encountered the leader of the slaves, Greshin Stillwater, and work with him to led an attack on the necromancer down within the cavernous mines.
There, the party encounters a withered, masked humanoid connected to an unnatural throne of bones and sinew. Claws sprout from the throne and spindly legs carry the necromancer, controlled by his thoughts and acting as an extension of his body. Upon seeing Izrok, Lazard the bard flies into a blind rage that he cannot explain, having a sense of recognition but no memory of the necromancer. Lazard had enough sense to guess that these feelings did not come from within, but rather from his living gauntlet. The adventurers engaged the necromancer and his pets.
During the battle, Beregond had been struck by the necromancer’s claw, knocking him down and causing his mind and arm to burn with searing pain. Flashes of images blast through Beregond’s consciousness. Images of a golden dragon, a field of jagged glass, a jungle, ancient ruins, the skeleton of a giant, the visage of Cannon but changed as his face is melded with purple flesh and sinew, smirking. But superimposed over all these images is a terrifying, seething darkness that seems to undulate and chitter maddeningly. Then suddenly, Sharn flashes, and is in ruins. You are standing in the streets, which are filled with severed limbs, entrails, and an ocean of blood. Once this vision faded, Beregond came to with a shudder. Slowly, a black and crimson dragonmark formed over his left arm. It did not appear like any known dragonmark, but rather seemed to be an aberrant mark.
Before Beregond can register the impact of this event, Izrok attempts to bargain with the adventurers, seemingly just as affected by whatever transpired as Beregond. He offers the party to take his ship, using his headband of control to drive the craft. All he wants is for them to leave. However, the party cannot be bargained with, and Kurjan Izrok is struck through the throat with a sword. It seems his lifeforce was somehow linked to whatever supports had been bolstering the mines, as the caverns began to quake and lava seep from cracks in the ground. The adventurers survive, and manage to save some of the slaves trapped beneath the mine before it fills with lava.
Following this, the party converses and learns information.
Beregond’s Aberrant Dragonmark
Lazard expressed concerns over Beregond’s aberrant dragonmark, telling tales of marks causing madness. He described how aberrant marks are rare, and when they manifest the bearer is often sought out and killed. However, Harkin has worked with those bearing aberrant marks in Sharn. He has also heard the rumors and superstition that aberrant marks are wicked, evil manifestations that cause madness, but he stated that such information is false and largely overstated. Most aberrant dragonmarks that he had encountered possess limited powers that are largely innocuous, nothing that could overall challenge the abilities of the true dragonmarked houses. However, he also said he had never seen an aberrant dragonmark as large as Beregond's, which covers the entirety of his left arm.
Greshin Stillwater
Greshin Stillwater is a human from the Shadow Marches. He once served in the war as a mercenary of House Tharashk. While he does not bear the mark of finding or name of the house, he is a member of one of the smaller, though more influential clans of the House. He is also a capable and proven warrior. House Tharashk saw opportunity during the Last War at the creation of Droaam, and sought to build diplomatic relations with the Daughters of Sora Kell. House Tharashk is a key trade mediator for Droaam, providing the country with mercenaries and laborers, while recruiting monstrous mercenaries of their own. House Tharashk also uses its ability to provide the city of Graywall with humanoid law keepers and managers, meant to help ease relations between Khorvaire merchants and the monsters of Droaam. Greshin served in Graywall as a mercenary and guard. One day he was approached by a small, frail woman with a hood covering her face. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, paper thin, and wrinkled. She stumbled and Greshin caught her gently. She gripped his hand, and there was unbelievable strength in her grip. She paused, seeming to breathe in his essence and taste his flesh with her touch. Then she sighed.
“History will forget you, but you will guide its shapers. Tell them that night is coming, brought by cold and gold, with the haunting orb that rusts the soul. What a noble goal, but at such great toll. Resist the madness uncontrolled. Misled and tricked, a dare so bold. But anger, rage, you must let go. Trust in cold, respect the gold, and light the dawn with eyes of old.”
It was at that moment, Greshin knew that he had encountered Sora Teraza. Soon after that, I was betrayed and found myself a slave in Kurjan Izrok’s company, seeking dragonshards to power his eldritch devices.
Bob the Winter Wolf has lost his pack. They found themselves lost in a strange storm. When they finally regained their bearings, they discovered with shock that they had wandered into the mists of the Mournland. Bob and his pack fought many monsters and discovered terrible things. But the pack could was not strong enough. Bob was gravely wounded in a fight with monsters, the only survivor. Crawling, the mists suddenly parted and he was taken by the ogres and orcs of Kurjan Izrok’s company. Since then he was nursed back to health, but only to be broken in spirit and used as a toy. He is happy to join the travelers to return to the Mournland. He is afraid, but Bob wants to rejoin his pack and finish what the Mournland started.
After this, the party manages to arrange for the keep to become a base of operations, with the slaves now freemen who work to rebuild the mine and earn wages from their labors. Those that wish to return to their families do so, but others who have nowhere to go remain to start a new live and repay the adventurers for giving them back their lives and their freedom.
Part 3
Seeking out Cannon in order to clear their names, the adventurers are led to the Mournland. The airship refuses to pass the gray mists that border the cursed land, and so the party must continue on foot. Within the mists there can be heard moans, screams, and giggles. Shades and ghosts seem to flicker in and out of existence. It is a terrifying landscape. The adventurers manage to take shelter within a magical hut created by Lazard. While there, Geb tripped, stumbling on what turned out to be a book. She picked it up and brought it with her. It is a journal. She did not notice it at first, but a severed hand stiff with rigor mortis grips the ashy tome. It must be wrenched off, breaking the fingers before it can be opened. Many of the pages have been torn from the book or burned away. Those that remain indicate the book to be an account of the Mournland by a man by the name of Wrogarr Aggan. The following is what is contained inside the journal:
Wrogarr Aggan's Journal
Day 1
Me and the guys took a job today. As usual, it was kept anonymous, with half the gold up front. The task seems simple enough. Head to some kind of House Cannith warehouse just outside where the city of Making used to be. I guess this place served as Cannith's headquarters just before the Mourning. We're supposed to run recon, see what's out there, take what salvage we can, and report back with detailed records of what's out there. The money is too good to turn down. Still, I can’t help but feel a bit… jittery. Jebot says it’s just silly superstition, that nothing bad is gonna happen. He says all the things people say about the place are just ghost stories to keep people from going into the mists. He says greedy raiders started it all so they could keep the best loot and salvage for themselves. For our sakes, I sure hope so. Anyways, this journal is meant to act as a first-hand account of what we find out in the mists. It's some kinda stipulation our employers have in order to get paid. Whatever.
Day 3
We crossed into the mists today. The moment we crossed that border I was overcome with an overwhelming sense of dread. My lungs felt cold and even at high noon darkness permeated the air. Not only that, I thought I heard the voice of my brother, Donovan. I turned and could swear it look like i could see his face in the mists. But he's been dead 12 years. I have a bad feeling about this.
Day 4
We finally broke through the mists and entered the Mournland. We found ourselved in a strange field of ruined buildings. The ground was jagged with crystal shards and deep craters. Then, suddenly we heard strange, distant giggles and laughter. All of us scattered into hiding amongst the ruins. I peered around the corner, and that’s when I saw it. An amorphous mound of goo, but covered in mouths filled with razor sharp teeth. And the sound! It starter to shriek so loud that I had to cover my ears. But it didn't only shriek. It sounded like chittering and chatting. Like a room full of voices while the teacher grinded her nails on the writing slate. I thought my skull was gonna explode and my eardrums burst. It was so loud I almost didn't hear the other scream. From across the road I saw Lanik take off shouting, “I’ve gotta get outta here!” The monster turned and saw him. The thing reacted so fast! Before anyone could do a thing, it flattened against the ground and suddenly launched itself into the air at Lanik. I watched as Lanik was slammed prone. A tendril sprouted and snaked around his leg. In a moment it vanished in an explosion of blood and bone. Lanik screamed again in agony and terror. The creature carved into Lanik’s flesh, tearing at his muscles. All the while, the monster never stopped giggling and chittering. After a few minutes, Lanik was no more but a lifeless, crimson pool. The thing squirmed away after that. At first no one moved. Then, slowly we regrouped, reassessed, and continued on. At that moment, I think it finally dawned on me just what I signed up for.
Day 12
My companions are growing more and more ill as time goes by. Our sorcerer, Manji, went mad as his skin began to fall off in sheets. Worse yet, our healer seems powerless to stop it. This land, the sights I’ve seen… no one should ever see these things. I’m convinced this place is alive. Worse yet, it’s full of hate. The longer we stay, the more it seems to pull us in. I’m considered a brave man, but I’ve never been more scared in my life. Also, I’ve noticed something strange. While everyone else suffers, I seem to be ok, at least physically. My byeshk mace blunted itself on the last monster I fought. It seems so soft now that I can carve my name into it with my fingernail. I think there might be a connection, but I’m afraid it comes too late to help me. Also, I’m not sure, but I think we are being followed. It started when we stopped by battlefield covered in dead bodies. Most were armored and still holding their weapons, some of which also happened to be stuck in other bodies. How many years has it been since the Day of Mourning? Yet the corpses are fresh as if they fell dead just yesterday, suddenly, and all at once. Also, I swear by the Dol Dorn, a few seemed to move, catching the sight just out the corner of my eye! But whenever I looked, they remained still as the grave.
Day 21
(Written in horrible scribble, most illegible. What can be read is this)
GET OUT GET OUT I MUST GET OUT! I’M THE ONLY ONE LEFT!!! I TRY TO LEAVE BUT IT WON’T LET ME! THE MIST NEVER ENDS! NO WAY OUT! TRAPPED! THIS PLACE WANTS TO SWALLOW MY SOUL! SHUT UP!!!!! IT DOESN’T SHUT UP! SOMETHING STALKS ME AND TAUNTS ME! DRIVING ME CRAZY! CRAZY!!! IT NEVER SHUTS UP! NEVER ENDS! I WANNA GO HOME! DAMMIT, LET GO OF ME! LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT!!!
In the morning, the players awake to find Lazard’s claw gauntlet, sonnected to his arm by ropey sinew, choking Beregond. The sinews are severed, killing the hand but causing Lazard’s own hand to wither and fall off painfully. After some time, the heroes find themselves fighting monsters they can’t manage. Lazard is killed, but everyone wakes up back in the tiny hut. Lazard’s hand and claw gauntlet have returned. It is strange. In addition, everyone is beginning to suffer ailments that appear to be from exposure to the Mournland. Sores, sickness, aches, joint pain, and worse.
Eventually the adventurers come across a tavern called Red Cloak Tavern. There is a friendly, plump barkeep named Norman washing a cup. He greets the players with a smile, which everyone notices to be full of teeth as sharp and pointed as shark’s teeth. He offers to put up the party for a night for free, and even provide them a good meal. All they need to do is each of them share a single story about their lives. Also, he commands them that they must not enter the door at the end of the hall. Geb insults the patron, and she attempts to leave, but finds herself back within the tavern. After sharing a good meal and their personal stories, their curiosity gets the better of them and they explore the sounds of a little girl screaming in pain. However, in the room is a banshee chained to the bed and Beregond turns to stone. Harkin barely manages to pull him out while Norman shuts the door. The adventurers are able to restore Beregond, but only after destroying a monster in the basement to retrieve the cure. Norman provides the party with a box that Harkin manages to open, giving him the ability to navigate the Mournland.
The party eventually makes it to the city of Making. There they find the entire city and all of the inhabitants have been covered in glass, preserving find the entire city covered in glass. There the fight what appear to be scavengers of magical items. The party defeats them.
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
