As the tentacles burst forth into the coffin world, the coffins start to crumble where it touches them. Billowing ash accompanies its entrance to this cheery place and the group responds with a hearty ‘haveatchoo’. However, when the Gal charge into the maelstrom of tentacles, her armor becomes pitted and cracked and the magic blade shows signs it is not immune from the ashy acid storm. So, a hasty retreat is beat. The beast signals displeasure by hurling an exploding tentacle that coats the party in an acid mist.
Since the beast seems intent on passing through the portal, it seems like a good idea to hurl it back. A few volleys of missiles from the oathbow and the like give the creature some pause and it decides to go elsewhere, pulling the portal shut behind it and perhaps trapping the group in this hellish nether realm.
Well, first things first – looting is undertaken. If you’re gonna die, mizewell die rich. Happily, one of the minions that stayed behind to fight was packing an escape route and the group plane shifts back to the courtyard of the Temple of Torm back in Impiltur.
A few tendays are spent identifying items, paying taxes and liquidating items for the party treasury. Contact is made with a druid from the hinterlands, warning the temple about the rise of a lich named ‘The Rotting Man’. Bababobo recognizes the name as the reason that he left the area a few years back. This may be something to keep thinking about. Hrm. From there the group retraces a now-familiar path. Sarshel to the docks to the boat across the narrow sea to the fortified town of Grazul. Grazul is curiously devoid of orcs, ungern and the like. Perhaps a major offensive is planned. Hrm.
On to Botkinburg for a chat with the court wizard. He is out and not expected soon. Malchor is saddened, for he sought magic from the mage. Hrm. On to Ludensheim, where Duke Miles is pleased to see them. His court wizard is at home and trading is undertaken.
Next, a trip up the Causeway, in hopes of finding the ranger’s stone horse. Alas, the terrain of the jungle land is no more, and apparently the horse has left along with it. The ranger is much saddened. The rest of the group looks to see who bet long in the pool of horse demise. The rest of the journey is largely uneventful, aside from a huge swarm of ravens and carrion crows headed ominously overhead and the attack of a bunch of trolls. Ho hum.
To the icy realm of the Frostlord and his Earthlord brother. Together they reforge the Horn for the group. Some information about the Vessel of Souls is learned – it is a she, she was part of the Horned One’s empire building and she is now loose and unmasked. The pearl mask that the group now bears is the only thing that can stop her soul-draining proclivities. Holy crap. Hrm.
So, on the one hand, the Vessel of Souls is loose and aided by very powerful people if one counts the corpses of various high priests, mages and high level fighters that the party just encountered in the alternate plane. On the other, the forest near the edge of Impiltur is threatened by this ‘Rotting Man’ and so the group decides to give themselves some time to think as they seek to investigate the truth of the rumors. The ride reveals little, but there is a widening zone of depopulation forming along Impiltur’s eastern edge as people flee the area.
Hrm.
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