JollyDoc's Age of Worms (Updated 11/30, Epilogue!)

Neverwinter Knight said:

So many possibilities...

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So many deaths... and worms.

The anticipation is killing me, almost as effectively as Dragotha must be at killing opponents.
And seeing how long you guys have taken to get this far playing table-top I cannot even start to imagine how long we are going to need on Play-by-Web. We have only recently entered the Labyrinth of Vecna and we started playing I think in May/June 2005. Talking about taking the express lane ;-) But I wouldn't want to miss it for the world.

Edit:
Forgot to congratulate you guys on a job well done! So, a belated but still highly deserved congrats on coming out on top again at the GenCon Open. Wish I had been there. But maybe next year I'll be coming over with a few friends to see 'The Powergamers' at work ;-)

A'vandira Silvermane said:

The anticipation is killing me, almost as effectively as Dragotha must be at killing opponents.
And seeing how long you guys have taken to get this far playing table-top I cannot even start to imagine how long we are going to need on Play-by-Web. We have only recently entered the Labyrinth of Vecna and we started playing I think in May/June 2005. Talking about taking the express lane ;-) But I wouldn't want to miss it for the world.

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Yeah, it's hard to believe that we will be starting Dawn of a New Age this coming Sunday (which lets you know that Dragotha was at least not a TPK).

Hey JollyDoc, please don't leave us too long with this teaser out in the open. Although you probably need your time to write down the epic confrontation in due form...

The masses demand Dragotha beatdown of the League! Hideous, painful, beatdown involving screaming, suffering, and wormy doom!

Oh, and the giant horde that the Dracolich left behind. I'm sure a few of the piles of gold will pay for the diamonds (or scrolls ) needed to Ressurect anyone turned into Kyssus flunkies. Speaking of which, have you made your personal modifications to the finale gfunk? I certainly hope a lot of the Spire's most interesting inhabitants make a comback.

Must...not...respond...to...Solarious...

Must...not...taunt...

<CTRL><ALT><DEL>

You disappoint me Joachim. You didn't get half-owned by Dragotha? BLASPHEMY!

Well, there is always Kyssus. I mean, you never did manage to take down Adimarchus, even with Entropy helping out with her massive selection of spells and 2 artifacts.

And thank you for spelling out my username correctly. You wouldn't believe how many people say 'Solarius' to me.

Solarious said:

Speaking of which, have you made your personal modifications to the finale gfunk? I certainly hope a lot of the Spire's most interesting inhabitants make a comback.

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Gfunk? GFUNK??? Who's Story Hour is this anyway????

Clearly it isn't yours, or else I would say JollyDoc.

But seriously. How can I make it up to you? A kiss?

Solarious said:

Clearly it isn't yours, or else I would say JollyDoc.

But seriously. How can I make it up to you? A kiss?

Click to expand...

Nah...you can just read...and weep...

THE DRAGON REBORN

As Hawk, Faust and Giovanni brought their totems together again, the ghostly form of Balakarde manifested in the air above them once more. The spirit looked about the vast chamber, taking note of the carnage.
‘I do not recognize this place,’ he spoke, without words, ‘but the wormdrake I remember well. It was that foul creature’s presence at my meeting with Dragotha that was my ultimate undoing.’
“We are drawing nearer to the dracolich’s sanctum,” Giovanni said aloud. “We have slain most of his minions that we have come across. Only two that we know of escaped…a wyvern and its derro rider. Do you know them?”
Balakarde shook his head, ‘No, but remember that it was sixteen years ago when last I walked these halls.’
“Can you tell us anything more of the Writhing Sanctum or the enemies that we might face there?” Giovanni asked.
‘It was a large, cavernous place,’ Balakarde answered, his eyes growing distant, as if he were actually seeing the place of his doom again. ‘A ziggurat stood at one end, and atop it sat the monolith that was Kyuss’ prison. Three great worms prowled the tunnel leading into the Sanctum…nightcrawlers, undead abominations. Several of the avolakia priests stood on ledges around the perimeter of the place. This is all I can tell you.’
“Our thanks again,” Giovanni nodded, “but one last thing. You mentioned that you might be able to aid us when we face Dragotha. What must we do?”
The ghost smiled, ‘You will know when the time comes,’ and with that, he faded away once more.

The group stood adjacent to the glowing pit on the southern side of the wormdrake’s lair. It was a twenty-foot wide shaft extending up through the ceiling and down into the depths of the earth. Dozens, if not hundreds, of alcoves lined its walls. Some were empty, but just as many contained the desiccated remains of avolakia. The shaft itself faded into darkness above and below, and a thick rain of green fluid cascaded down the center, filling the air with an oily haze and coating the walls with moisture.
“So what now?” Faust asked. “If it is our intention to proceed on to the dragon’s lair, I must warn you that I am mentally exhausted. I will be of little use to you in my current state.”
Grubber nodded in agreement, “I too have drained most of the powers that Grumbar has granted me for this day. My support will be related to hand-to-hand fighting.”
“Then we can’t win,” Giovanni said matter-of-factly. “If we leave and return tomorrow, there is no assurance that Dragotha will still be here, and if he is, he might have any number of new allies with him.”
“I may have a solution,” Mak said quietly, “but it will cost me dearly. Allow me a few minutes.” His companions watched him questioningly as he withdrew to a far corner, knelt on the ground, drew his sword and laid it before him. Softly, so that none of the others could hear, he began to pray.
“Helm, Watcher over us all, hear my plea. My brothers and I find ourselves in an impossible situation. We must stop Kyuss’ general if we are to have any hope of halting the coming Age of Worms. Yet, we lack the ability to do what must be done. Our hearts and our determination our strong, and we will go forward if we must, but I fear we will only waste our lives in the attempt. I ask your blessing upon us. Grant us your divine grace to restore our strength to us. I know the boon I seek is great, but I am willing to pay the price. I ask this as your humble servant.” The goliath bowed his head.

Suddenly, Faust grabbed his head and gasped, his eyes growing wide. Next to him, Grubber’s face showed astonishment and disbelief. As Mak dragged himself to his feet and stumbled back towards them, his brother grabbed his shoulders, supporting him.
“What have you done?” Grubber whispered.
“What had to be done,” Mak answered.
“What’s going on?” Giovanni asked. “What’s wrong with all of you?”
“Nothing,” Faust grinned, “Absolutely nothing! My power has been restored…well, the major part of it! It is truly a miracle!”
Grubber nodded soberly, “My own magic has returned to me as well, and I believe that of my brother is also whole, but the sacrifice he has made…” The goliath trailed off, shaking his head. Mak waved him away.
“Enough!” he snapped. “What is done is done. Do you all intend to stand here talking about it until Dragotha himself comes to welcome us, or will you accept what has been given, and lets us do what we came here to do?” Hawk placed one hand on Mak’s shoulder and nodded.
“Well spoken soldier…and well done. Let’s go.”
_______________________________________________________________

“If I were an undead dragon,” Faust said, peering over the edge of the shaft, “I think that I would be as far down in the bowels of the earth as I could be. I vote we descend.”
“We will not leave my brother this time,” Mak said. “If the dracolich is indeed down there, then we may not have time to come back for him, and I won’t leave him on his own in this vile place.”
Faust looked pensive for a moment, and then snapped his fingers. “I have it! Group close together, all of you.” The psion placed his fingers to his temples, and in an instant, a softly glowing sphere of blue energy surrounded the entire group. They all felt lighter than air floating within the globe, and under Faust’s psychic command, the orb lifted gently into the air, and began to float slowly downed the darkened shaft. The cascade of green liquid rolled harmlessly off of its surface, never reaching those inside.

The descent seemed interminable. Faust reckoned they had traveled almost two thousand feet into the earth before Grubber finally announced that he could see an end to the shaft, some hundred feet or so below them. They drifted out the ceiling of a mammoth cave. The floor was barely visible well over a hundred feet further down…and it was filled with worms. Millions of them, ranging in size from mere threads to overworms larger than any dragon they had seen. With a mental command, Faust brought the telekinetic sphere to a halt in mid-air.
“Do you think this is it?” he asked. “This doesn’t look like the place Balakarde described.”
“Maybe we went the wrong way,” Giovanni offered.
“Or maybe Dragotha has changed the trappings of his lair since Balakarde invaded,” Mak said.
“There is one way to find out,” Grubber said, and this time it was he that beseeched his god, but for information, not power on the scale Mak had performed. In a moment, the goliath looked up. “He is not here. His lair is above, at the pinnacle of the Tabernacle. Also know this…Dragotha is not alone, and it is more than nightcrawlers, avolakia or wyvern-riding derro that attend him.”
Faust looked back up towards the shaft. “The ascent is going to take at least ten minutes,” he said skeptically.
“Many of the wards I have woven about us will expire by then,” Grubber said pointedly.
“Then we have no choice,” the psion said, looking Grubber in the eye. “I Teleport us to the top of the shaft, and we see what we find. I needn’t remind you that all of us, save you, have the ability to fly. If we find ourselves in mid-air…” he let the statement trail off.
“I accept that,” Grubber said, his mouth tightening. “Take us.”
_______________________________________________________

Grubber’s greatest fears were realized when the team reappeared at the top of the wormvent. Though a large tunnel opened off the shaft, there was no solid ground below their feet. Immediately, the goliath began to fall, but to his amazement, he floated gently down instead of plummeting. However, without the protection of Faust’s telekinetic sphere, Grubber and his companions could now feel the bone-numbing cold that permeated the shaft, and where the viscid green cascade touched their skin, they could sense it seeping into the very marrow of their souls, sapping them of their life’s energy. Havok prepared to dive after the falling cleric, but at that moment, his eyes caught a flicker of movement in the circular tube which wound through the rock to one side of the shaft. Its walls were glassy and smooth, as if burned with great heat or acidic force. Swarms of writhing green worms clung to the walls and ceiling in horrific defiance of gravity, although every so often clumps of the green menaces would drop down like chunks of snow falling through the boughs of a tree. A river of thick, green fluid rushed down the tube towards their position, before cascading over the edge of the pit. The frigid air smelled heavily of corruption. Yet it was not the small vermin which had captured the warlock’s attention. Further down the tunnel, yet moving rapidly in their direction, was an immense worm covered with plates of dead, black, chitonous armor. Its toothy maw was wider than a human was tall, and its teeth and gullet were black as pitch. It was as Balakarde had warned them. It was a nightcrawler.

Grubber knew what it was that his companions faced. Havok communicated it to him through the Mindlink.
‘Go!’ the priest commanded. ‘Don’t worry about me! I will follow!’
Havok nodded, and immediately faded from view before streaking to a position near the top of the tunnel, and out of the deadly rain of emerald liquid. No sooner had he moved, than a wave of mental fire coursed down the tube. Faust’s energy cone washed over the nightcrawler, and the behemoth writhed in pain. Simultaneously, Mak and Grubber flew down the corridor, rapidly closing with the undead worm. All of this Grubber glimpsed through the mental bond he shared with his team mates, and he knew he had to reach them quickly, not only for their benefit, but to prevent his own life from being sucked dry by the leaching, green river. Calling upon Grumbar, the goliath performed a truly miraculous feat, which allowed him to momentarily call upon arcane magic rather than divine, and transport himself instantaneously to a point directly behind the attacking nightcrawler. Unfortunately, he found himself standing ankle deep in writhing, biting green worms. To make matters worse, he heard a deep rumble from the tunnel behind him, and when he turned that way, he saw the second nightcrawler approaching.

The first nightshade opened its great mouth and expelled a cone of freezing air, which lowered the already frigid temperature in the tube even further. Faust managed to leap behind a rocky outcropping at the last minute, but the blast caught Mak, Hawk, Grim and Havok full force.
‘These undead brutes seem to thrive in the cold,’ Havok said to his friends. ‘Let us see how they fare against the purging flames of eldritch fire!’ Instantly, a viridian wall of worm-filled fire arced down the passage, slicing through both nightcrawlers, sending them into convulsions of pain and howling rage.
‘I’ll go you one better!’ Faust grinned, and with the merest mental shrug, he opened a small conduit to the Positive Energy plane, which proceeded to pour pure force that was anathema to the undead, causing both to explode spectacularly.
‘Very nice,’ Havok nodded appreciatively.
‘Oh boys,’ Mak called, ‘if you’re through congratulating yourselves, we’ve got more company.’ The goliath quickly proceeded to weave a protective ward about himself, Grubber and Hawk against both the frigid air in the tunnel, and the equally freezing breath of the nightcrawlers, for a third one of the monstrosities was slithering towards them. Immediately, the creature breathed, but this time the blast rolled harmlessly over the League members. Hawk and Mak rushed forward, each taking a flanking position on the beast. As they slashed and cut at the worm, Havok summoned two more walls of emerald flame, cutting off the creature’s escape, and immolating it in a matter of moments. A haze of fine, black dust covered the writhing vermin on the tunnel floor.

“Come on!” Hawk cried aloud. “Dragotha knows we’re coming! We must strike now, before he can prepare further!” The civilar soared around a curve in the tunnel, just ahead of his fellows, but then abruptly came to a halt. Ahead, the tube-like tunnel opened into a vast cavern lit by the undulant green glow of a huge ziggurat built of worm-infested stone. It appeared that a small structure once stood atop the pyramid, but nothing remained save a great, jagged hole. The green liquid that flowed down the passageway gushed from this wound, cascading down the front stairs of the ziggurat in a chain of miniature waterfalls. Two ledges overlooked the cavern. The northernmost one rose fifteen feet above the floor, while the southern one rose thirty. In the southwest corner of that ledge lay heaped an amazing mound of treasure. The ceiling of the chamber vaulted to a height of nearly one-hundred feet.
By far the most imposing feature of the cavern, however, was the gargantuan dragon perched atop the ziggurat. Dragotha was even more horrifying than Hawk could have imagined. It was obvious that his scales had once been deepest crimson, but now the flesh hung in rags over the dried bones beneath. His great wings bore rents as well, and where his eyes should have been were two pinpoints of green fire. Spaced around the surrounding ledges were four of the avolakian priests, while hovering in the air above Dragotha was the wyvern-riding derro they had met outside the tabernacle. One final creature was present within the Writhing Sanctum. It bore a human head, but had the bloated body of a Kyuss worm…a worm naga. It was none-other than Sruggut, the pathetic creature the League, or more specifically Faust, had allowed to go free from the Spire of Long Shadows.

Just as Hawk’s companions joined him in witnessing the terrible tableau, Dragotha roared in a voice that sounded like thunder in the enclosed space.
“Finally you are here,” he said in a voice that sounded like dry leaves crackling. “The unwitting lapdogs of the very evil that you seek to stop!” He began to chuckle evilly. “Does it come as no surprise to you to learn that Lashonna, the one who sent you on this suicide mission, is manipulating you more than I could ever have dreamed of doing? She seeks to supplant me as Kyuss’ right hand, and she sent you to do her dirty work, to eliminate me. She sent you to your deaths, but I will show you more mercy than she would. Leave now, and go to Lashonna. Slay her, and let my name be the last sound she hears. Do this, and I will forget all that you have done in affront to me. This will be my once and final offer.”
At that moment, Hawk, Faust and Havok each felt Balakarde’s presence in their mind. Instinctively, Hawk knew that the spirit’s gift to him was total immunity to Dragotha’s fiery breath, and some of that protection was also conveyed to those around him. Faust became aware that his own potent mental abilities were now even more deadly, and his allies near to him would not fall under the fearful awe of the dracolich’s presence. Havok felt that his attacks against the dragon would strike almost unerringly, and his allies would not be affected by the paralyzing effect of Dragotha’s gaze and touch. Each of them also knew they could pass these gifts among themselves, and to their comrades. Above all, though, each of them felt an almost overwhelming, blinding urge to kill the dracolich. There would be no bargain, and no quarter given.

“By your silence, you have sealed your own doom,” Dragotha hissed, and then he began uttering the guttural words of a spell. Mak, and Grubber, with their divinely-enhanced senses saw the invisible wall of force spring up behind Hawk, separating the paladin from the rest of the team. Through the Mindlink, they made the others aware.
‘It is of no concern,’ Faust responded. An eye-blink later, the psion stood mere feet away from the dracolich, though no one had seen him move. No one knew that he had accelerated the flow of time in relation to himself only, disintegrated the force wall, clothed his body in a shield of timelessness, and strode boldly up to Dragotha, daring the fiend to strike at him.
“Kill them!” Dragotha shouted to his minions. Sruggut’s eyes went wide with fear when he saw how close Faust had gotten. The worm naga remembered all-to-well the psion’s power. Quickly, he rendered his body intangible, much in the way Havok’s own ghostly form appeared. Meanwhile, from above Zyrinth shrieked, diving straight towards Hawk. The paladin raised his shield, feeling the wyvern’s claws scrape across its surface as he swooped past. At the last moment, Hawk struck the passing dragon, Quaero biting deep into Zyrinth’s flank. Simultaneously, two of the avolakia’s summoned columns of green fire to engulf Faust. The élan stepped clear without so much as a singe to his cloak. The other two priests tried a different tactic. Walls of stone sprang instantaneously from the ground at their bidding, once more sealing the other members of the League away from the melee, and away from Hawk and Faust as well. Dragotha towered above Faust, regarding the psion cautiously. ‘What sort of being was this?’ he wondered, ‘and what kind of power must he possess to feel so secure?’ The dracolich wasn’t taking any chances. Speaking the words to another spell, he quickly encased Faust in a complete cage of pure force. The psion smiled, and then blew the cage apart with another blast of mental power. On the heels of this, Faust hurled a powerful dispelling charm against Dragotha, but a ring on one of the dracolich’s large fore claws flashed, and the élan felt his own power turned back upon him, only to be absorbed by his own wards. He was just preparing to strike again, when Zyrinth landed right next to him, reaching out one large, clawed foot to grasp at him. Eel-like, Faust slipped through the dragon’s grasp.

On the far side of the wall, Havok called out mentally to Grubber, ‘The time is now, my friend. Just as we planned. Have no fear.’ The goliath nodded, and he and his brother moved adjacent to the stone wall just as the warlock blasted a hole through it with his eldritch fire. Before either of them could move, however, Grim darted past them. The dwarf rushed to Hawk’s side just as Dragotha leaped from his perch, and landed heavily right beside the civilar. For the briefest of moments, Grim’s eyes locked with those of the dracolich, but that was all that it took. The mineral warrior felt his limbs seize, and his muscles lock in place. He became rooted to the spot, paralyzed, and too far from Havok to benefit from Balakarde’s gift. Havok cursed as he saw Grim’s predicament. His plan would have been foolproof if not for the headstrong warrior. Before anything else could go wrong, the warlock pulled a scroll from his cloak and, reading it, stopped the flow of time for all but himself. Stepping into the room, he pulled a second scroll, this time casting a spell that erected a larger version of the cage of force Dragotha had imprisoned Faust with, only this time it was around the dracolich, and its walls were barred rather than solid, much like a jail cell. In rapid succession, the warlock then erected three intersecting walls of eldritch fire within the cage. As time resumed, Dragotha found himself burned, not by the fire of the walls, to which he was naturally immune, but instead by the eldritch energies which powered them, which were especially deadly to the undead. Abruptly, time stopped once more, only this time it was Grubber who was responsible. The goliath’s heart pounded as he moved quickly into the chamber. As Havok had instructed, he began to quickly weave his divine magic. Around Dragotha’s prison, he placed a dimensionally locked energy field, which would prevent the dracolich from teleporting himself free of the cage. Then, following Havok’s lead, he conjured three walls of whirling blades made of force. These, he knew, would harm even a spirit-creature, like that which Sruggut had transformed himself into, and so Grubber made the barriers long enough that they would intersect with the space occupied by the worm naga. When time resumed its normal flow again, both the dracolich and his lackey suddenly found themselves on the receiving ends of a world of pain.

Faust whistled in admiration as he saw the devastating result of Grubber’s and Havok’s expertly coordinated attack. With the main threat otherwise occupied, he could now turn his attention to the second course. Turning towards Sruggut, the psion opened his mind.
“I owe you for your betrayal of my trust,” he said coldly to the worm naga, “and I always repay my debts.” Suddenly, a cyclonic blast of wind flowed from Faust, blasting the semi-corporeal naga. As it struck, hurricane force winds spiraled out in all directions. Unfortunately, Sruggut was blown clear of the whirling blade barriers. One of the avolakias on the ledge above, however, was swept into the blades. Venk and Zyrinth were caught as well, with the derro tumbling from the wyvern’s back, while Zyrinth rolled head over tail thru the blade walls, and one of Havok’s worm-fire walls as well. Faust winked at Havok. ‘Touché’’ he jibed.

Sruggut was panicking. This wasn’t going as planned at all! Dragotha had been neutralized, and their offensive was in shambles. He had to do something to free his master. Hastily, he cast a spell, sending a dispelling field designed to reave the protective wards from his enemies at the dimensional barrier surrounding the dracolich. Havok sensed the worm naga’s intent immediately, and using the ring he had taken from Filge, he instantaneously countered the spell, directing it instead towards Dragotha, hoping that it would tear away all of the dracolich’s protective wards. Instead, Dragotha’s own ring flashed, turning the spell back towards Sruggut. The naga hissed as the spell struck him, but as each of his defensive spells were sucked from him, he used the reaving ability of the magic to replace them immediately. The net effect was nil. Dragotha remained trapped.

Venk had a plan. The derro warlock was also fully aware that without Dragotha, the battle was lost. Sprinting across the battlefield, she vaulted onto Zyrinth’s back just as the wyvern extricated himself from the burning, ripping walls. Zyrinth then leaped into the air, sweeping in a great arc across the room, rending at Hawk’s armor as he passed. Ultimately, he landed near one of the avolakia priests, who quickly began mending his wounds. On the far side of the chamber, one of the other priests was pouring negative energy into Dragotha, trying to heal him just as quickly as his flesh was being rent. Dragotha himself could feel his life force fading. He knew that his minions would free him, if given enough time. He had to keep himself alive until then. Opening his great jaws, he breathed a cone of pure darkness onto his own body, where it clung like a second skin. The devastating Death Wind was capable of snuffing the life out of any living creature…any living creature not warded against its negative energy as his accursed enemies obviously were. However, these same energies served to revitalize his own flagging spirit, and as long as he could continue to exist, there was hope yet for victory.

Grubber saw that Sruggut was preparing another attempt at dispelling the spells he had woven around Dragotha, and he knew that Havok’s ring could only function once in a day. He realized that was up to him to stop the naga. He spoke the words to his prayer as Sruggut chanted those to his spell. Grubber’s tongue proved faster, and a hammer forged of white energy struck the worm naga in the back of the skull, and he collapsed bonelessly to the floor, his body resuming its corporeal form, and leaking black blood onto the stone. The priest didn’t pause to congratulate himself. Instead, he spoke another prayer, and a virtual storm of holy blades spread throughout the chamber. The projectiles pierced the flesh of all the remaining enemies, and Zyrinth and two of the avolakias gasped as the light from the storm struck them instantly blind.
The other two avolakias continued to tend Dragotha’s wounds….a situation that Faust intended to put an end to. Opening his mind once more, he unleashed a sonic bombardment into the walking worms, shattering their bodies as they were hurled into the walls.

Venk curse the luck that had blinded her companion, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. Guiding the wyvern, she urged him across the room, towards Dragotha’s horde. Once there, the quickly dismounted and began rummaging through the mound, until she pulled free a plain, iron coffer. Dragotha watched her, sensing her intent. Abruptly, he called out to his enemies.
“A truce!” he roared. “Free me now, and I swear to you that I will help you to slay the traitor Lashonna!”
‘Grubber!’ Havok shouted through the Mindlink. ‘Stop the derro! She’s trying to free Dragotha!’ The priest whirled towards the little warlock, shouting words to Grumbar, as a thin, green beam of light streaked from his finger. At the last moment, however, Zyrinth leaped between the ray and his mistress. The spell struck, and instantaneously vaporized the wyvern. Mak charged towards Venk just as she pulled a small, plain stone from the coffer in triumph. Her victorious grin turned to one of shock, however, as the goliath drove his sword completely through her.
“No!!!” Dragotha shrieked, as his last hope died. The ancient dracolich roared in disbelief and rage. His body shuddered, thrashed, and then clattered to the ground in a rain of ancient bones. When they struck the floor, they exploded into clouds of crypt dust. The ominous shape of a ghostly dragon lingered for a moment in these clouds, but then faded, and was gone. The remaining two avolakias, blinded and leaderless, followed their master into eternity moments later.

Dragotha’s destruction brought a sudden burst of light and energy from Havok, Faust and Hawk. Once again, the ghost of Balakarde materialized before them.
‘Thank you my friends,’ he said, smiling. ‘But know this…the true battle remains ahead. It is now up to you to find where Kyuss’ monolith has been taken, and destroy the Worm God. I leave a gift for each of you, in appreciation for all that you have done for me.’ As the spirit faded from view, a number of spinning gold coins, one for each of them, and each bearing the image of Balakarde, wafted down from thin air. As each of the League members reached out to capture the coins, they vanished, and a surge of hope filled them all. Perhaps all was not lost. Perhaps there was still a chance at victory…