SKT.5.2 For a Fallen Friend Plot in Forgotten Realms | World Anvil
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SKT.5.2 For a Fallen Friend

Session Summary

 
  • The party rushes to the nearest community, Red Larch, in search of a temple with the power to resurrect Tristain.
  • Upon finding a priest capable of handling the ritual, the party must delve into the Underdark to retrieve a diamond of sufficient clarity and worth to be used in the attempted resurrection.
  • Second, feeling guilty for not adequately defending his friend, recklessly dives headfirst into the task, nearly killing himself and his companions in the process of successfully retrieving a diamond buried within the Underdark opening near Red Larch.
  • At dawn the next morning, the party gathers with Dawnbringer Parin, who oversees the ceremony to revive Tristain.
  • With the aid of the party, Tristain is successfully resurrected. After a vision of his father in the afterlife, Tristain wakes with a renewed sense of purpose and departs shortly thereafter to pursue the contracts given to him by the Knights of Holy Judgement to see his father's will through to completion.
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Tristain's Resurrection

  As you enter the shrine, Dawnbringer Parin sits in a pew, rubbing his hands together. His eyes watch the windows with a hopeful anticipation. Hearing your entrance, he stands gracefully, nods once, and speaks. “From death, life. Let us proceed to the altar of Lathander”   In the darkness, Dawnbringer Parin lifts the empty vessel of Tristain. Your fallen comrades body hangs limp, wrapped in rose and yellow cloth, his arms crossed over his chest. Stepping in solemn rhythm up the simple stone stairs, Dawnbringer Parion places Tristain on an altar of stained glass in the loft above the worship chamber.   In a silence that seems to drift on in darkness, Dawnbringer Parin prepares the space. He slowly, reverently draws curtains open to reveal a large stained glass window of rose-gold and and orange facing due East. Kneeling before the stained glass - a depiction of Lathander in resplendent glory - Dawnbringer Parin whispers a prayer. As he words fade, he raises his left hand, drawing a circle in the air in front of him, nodding, and rising to his feet.   Wrapping the stained glass window, you read the following inscription carved into stone, "Strive always to aid, to foster new hope, new ideas, and new prosperity for all humankind and its allies. Perfect thyself, and guard ever against pride, for it is a sacred duty to foster new growth, nurture growing things, and work for rebirth and renewal. Be fertile in mind and body. Consider always the consequences of thine actions so that the least effort may bring the greatest and best reward. Wherever you go, sow seeds of plants, tend the growing things you find, and plant seeds of hope, new ideas, and plans for a rosy future in the minds of all. Whenever possible, see each dawn."   Dawnbringer Parin circles the altar, ever so slightly smoothing out the material draped over Tristain, and waits. In the silent and dreary darkness, you wait and watch the horizon through rose and gold fragments of glass. Gradually, as if waking from sleep, the sun breaks over the horizon. Dawnbringer Parin smiles conflictingly, pauses, and begins to recite a prayer.   As he does, he holds up the diamond and places into a lantern, as if it were a candle. Refracting through the gem, sunlight scatters across the stained glass altar. Light beams radiate around Tristain’s body, lighting the cloth over his body with a beautiful iridescence of mosaic color.   Father of the morning, we greet your dawn with gratitude and grace.
Your warmth breaks another morning yet, and wakes our hearts to love.
On this morning, though a blessing undeserved,
we feel the night linger still in our hearts.
For their is mourning for the loss of this precious soul.
We pray, through these rituals of resurrection,
For your goodness to shine through his life once more.
On this altar, we plea for life to bloom anew.
We ask this, radiant Lathander, though you.
  “Now, it is tradition to sing the Song of Dawn, a hymn of praise to Lathander. But it is traditionally arranged with a blend of vocal harmonies and counter harmonies of beautiful complexity. Would any of you be willing to add your voice to mine? If you’ll carry the melody, I’ll sing the harmony.”   In the shroud of darkness cast,
Your light doth break at last.
The morning dawn, a gentle sigh
A first breath after restless night.
Your peace and warmth, may we now sow
As seeds of love and goodness grow.
Grant us new eyes to witness your love,
Reflecting the dawn as clouds above.
As day begins and your light shines through.
Guide us through life, through death, forever to you.
  As the final notes of the Song of Dawn reverberate through the chamber, Dawnbringer Parin carefully arranges glistening yellow rose petals as a crown around Tristain’s head.   These petals plucked with morning dew,
A reminder of life the dawn brings anew.
So as the flowers bloom and someday wilt,
May Tristain return to life to see his purpose fulfilled.
  While speaking this verse, Dawnbringer Parin folds back the ceremonial cloth resting over Tristain, revealing the pale and peaceful face. He takes the remaining rose petals in his hand, softly crushes them, and uses the pigment released to draw the symbol of a sun on Tristain’s forehead.   “Now, we begin the final preparations, would two of the mourning share their light in this moment to aid this wandering soul back to the realm of the living?”   “Thank you for these contributions. Now, I will recite the final rite of resurrection. If Tristain is to be restored, may he wake as I speak these holy words.”   Morninglord,
In the midst of loss, we seek the shining splendor of your love.
May your strength scatter the shadows of sorrow.
In tears and wailing, lead us to the beauty and harmony of your morning glow.
Though death returns us to your eternal dawn, we seek your grace and behest your goodness.
Return this vessel to life, enraptured in your warmth.
As the dawn breaks, may so death’s grip on this honored soul.
May this knight, broken in his search of justice and peace,
be found worthy in your holy judgement.
In the name of Lathander.
  As the sun continues to rise, you wait, your breath caught in your throat, to see if Tristain’s eyes open to the morning light once more.
 

Tristain's Vision

  You wake slowly in a soft bed of feathers. Your eyes open gradually, as if from a distant and lingering dream and you find yourself in a simple bedroom. You wear no armor, and sheathe no weapon at your side. Robed in the tunics of Tyr you spent much of your youth in, you stand to your feet, the stone ground cold against your skin.   As you wander through the hallways of a great castle, the sun shines through open windows, warm against your face. Birds sing outside, familiar melodies of light and love and of the dawn. As you take deep, resounding breaths, you feel rested and peaceful for the first time in what seems like ages. There is a stillness in your soul, satisfying and sacred.   Eventually, you enter a long chamber and approach a dining table on which a feast has been set. The delightful scents of suckling pig, bread fresh from the fire, and sweetened wine drift through your nose and seem to fill your lungs. You notice there are two plates set out.   You take the first seat, and before long, a door on the opposite side of the hall opens. Clad in the same simple robes, Rulidd Kurchin approaches.   “My boy, it has been a many years since I’ve known the joy of your company. You have grown and accomplished much in my absence.”   “There a many things I wish I had time to share with you. The nature of my death, the missions set before you, but we do not have much time in this liminal place. If you only recall one thing as you wake from this rest, remember the Spellplague. Seek out the history of how the deceiver Cyric murdered magic and tore the Weave asunder. Through this, you’ll discover the truth of the paths that have led you here and where they will take you forward. More than this, know I am immensely proud of your accomplishments, and above all, your devotion and dedication to that which is true and holy and just. I could not be more honored by the life you’ve led. I’ll see you in the light, my son.”   Back in the upper loft of an all-faith shrine in a small town along the Long Road, the mosaic light draped around Tristain’s body begins to flicker. After a moment, you realize it's not flickering, but dancing. The diamond in the lantern casing seems to be spinning, spitting light in hypnotic patterns of morning warmth. The diamond moves slowly at first, but begins gaining speed. As it revolves in place, faster and faster, refracted light is thrown around the room, creating vibrant rays that radiate throughout the room. The stone spins faster still and shines so bright as if it were the sun itself. As you shield your eyes from the nigh-blinding light. Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass. The light from the diamond slowly fades as the spinning slows, the diamond seeming to turn to a radiant dust in the process. The silence is then broken by sudden, sharp gasp of air. You look to Tristain’s face, hoping against hope, and see his eyes flutter open as color begins to return to his face. As air enters his lungs for the first time in days, you too feel as if you can breathe once again.   “Blessed be the loving Lathander, the Morninglord who returns life and warmth to those who are called on to a greater purpose!” cries Dawnbringer Parin in a jubilant and harmonious tone.

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