After conversing with the floating eye – totally not a beholder, by the way – for a time, and after apparently providing the correct answer to the scenario posed by the non-beholder, the group ventures through the only available doorway. They find themselves in a room filled about waist high with bones and withered corpses. On the opposite side, a door seems like the only exit.
Snowplowing through the grisly remains, they gain access to the door and the Galadin opens it. Paladin and cleric find themselves face to face with a dragon, shrouded in tendrils of wispy darkness. It gives a quick hello, and the paladin deploys the gem of true seeing. The dragon breathes and the inky breath sucks most of the vitality out of the cleric, paladin and mage.
Startled (understatement) the group commences a headlong retreat as the beast inhales in preparation for adding their shriveled corpses to the pile. Upon gaining access to the room of the bemused eyeball, the group discusses a retreat. Informed that their preferred hidey holes are unavailable, they settle down in the room to wait and see if they are doomed.
The return of vitality is slow but comforting and once hale and hearty, the elf is persuaded to lead the way with the unicorn staff. Luck smiles upon them in an anticlimactic exchange, as the dragon is blasted into another dimension. Phew.
Rejoicing is followed by looting and a rich haul is added to the party coffers. They exit through the next doorway to find a room filled with blinding silvery light that pours from a sword that floats in midair. The cleric seizes the sword – named Silveredge, sworn to the service of Torm – and is triumphant…until reminded that unless a magical musical item is found, it is likely that the bard will take this as first pick. Sad face. Well, time to investigate the rest of the tower…
Descending one floor, the group opens a door and is confronted by a sextet of crazed minotaurs. The beasts are quickly put to death and the group prepares to loot the lootables.
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