Elulyn advocates vigorously for keeping the airship. Yes it is impractical as a conveyance and yes it makes additional precautions necessary, but how cool is it to float around in your own zeppelin boat?

As the sun starts to rise, they realize they are far out to sea, with the possibility of as landmass far to the north. They adjust the sails and close the vents to gain some altitude, then spend a few days drifting in that direction. BY cover of darkness, a landing party leaves the airship and sets down in this foreign land. Elulyn summons some mounts and he, Justicar and Mr. T ride out.

They make contact with a camp of stonecutters who seem perfectly fine with random wanderers coming up on them out of the darkness...

The scriptorium is found and it is looted and the contents destroyed. Elulyn is sad. He pokes around in the paper pile and convinces the party to spend a bit of time organizing. Eventually they find little of direct value and venture on, seeking the last few doors to pen and rooms to plunder.

They find the chambers of the high priest who is entombed in oily tendrils of rock, with only his crystalline skull free from the rock matrix. They snag the skull and plunder the bookshelves, finding the elusive prayer book of altar cleansing.

They anticipate a pitched battle to enter the altar room and transform the druid into a vaporous bat, ringed in a wall of fire that swoops around the room annihilating the leftover shadows. Of the vampires there is no trace – odd but ok...

The massive door is a momentary roadblock, for Mr. T is immune to poison and Malchor’s Crown blankets the area with a Dispel Magic to suppress any arcane traps. Soon the door is opened and the group is in the bedchambers of the Oathbreaker for whom the tower is named. Much searching and detecting and a sliding panel and a secret journal later the pool of life sucking is turned off. Elulyn maintains his predilection for art theft by slicing a huge painting out of its frame and rolling it up for sale on the secondary market. Most importantly, they score a silver, gem studded chalice which will be needed to open the catacombs.

The group presses on, clearing a training room full of wights, then slaying a few more wights as they poke around...

Returning to the search and being unable to access the secret door in the armory, the group’s attention turned to the closest door that leads to a plundered library. All that remains of interest is a desk carved to look like a pile of bones – highly magical and trapped to boot – according to the mage and cleris, respectively. Glowing heads are floated and unseen servants are called in to open the drawer – and the desk explodes into a mist of acid – which the servants ignore and the book is theirs!.It appears to be the traveling spellbook of a high-level mage. Ooooooooh.

Some stairs up l;ead to a long hallway with fiendish statues arranged within...

Reentering the dark tower provides a bit of a surprise to the intrepid ditherers. It seems that during their leisure activities, the voluminous evil has reanimated some of the ambulatory flesh piles they first encountered. In an alarming twist – they are almost completely immune to magic so it falls mostly to the acid-soaked Cosmic accompanied by Mr. T and his dancing blades to wreak the appropriate levels of havoc.

The somewhat invisible stalkers are still top of the party’s dither agenda, so they veer in a different direction. Doors are scanned and unlocked, or broken down by the druid’s rampaging earth elemental...