Wake up the next morning and head west to Claug’s lair, known as the Deeping Cave.
Galreth attunes to the staff: The world around you is as you know it, but twisted, shadowed—a dark reflection of the Prime Material. Familiar and unsettling in equal measure, the shadows of this world seem to drink in the light around them, and ash wafts on the air. It’s cold here, unnaturally so. The cold seeps past your cloak, into your flesh, and you feel the chill in your very bones. You cannot help but flinch at every sound, at each shadow that dislodges itself from your surroundings.
Scraab receives a sending from HP “*Scraabox, I received word this morning that Lord Neverember has requested an audience with those responsible for the events in the Paradise Valley. Were you responsible?”
Yes boss, we were involved.
Sending 2 from HP Devanish, “I found no rest last night. Bad feelings about your next venture. Once complete, seek safe passage from Leilon to Neverwinter. Much to discuss.”
The familiar path back west the Southkrypt eventually becomes unfamiliar and eerie. As you pass further west beyond the site where the battle with King Witchthorn took place the trees tower so large their canopies shadow the sun. Their trunks, wide as houses, some bear the unmistakable scars of large talons, the size of a man. Moss coats the forest floor, creeping over deadfalls sprawled like fallen giants. The air smells heavy of fertile soil and rot. Leaves and twigs crunch underfoot as you navigate tangled knots of roots. The trees stand silent vigil, watching, listening.
Through dense vines and foliage ahead, you can see a dancing flame surrounding a floating skull with several stalks emerging from it. Shadows move in the greenery nearby, indicating that the fiery being is not traveling alone.
As you follow the path of the flaming skull, you now see that it is leading a band of pale crawling humanoids towards the mountain. Scattered pine trees stand before a vine-covered cliff. A forty foot high cave opening, partly obscured by hanging greenery, is readily apparent in the cliff’s face. Several smaller openings to the cave can be spotted flanking the larger entrance. A dim green glow radiates from all of the entrances. Ten pikes set with skulls and rotting heads stand in a line before the cliff. A chill is sent down your spine as you can hear faint chanting echoing from the cave.
Before entering the fray, they see the following:
- Druids adorning black and green pain hiding among the mountain. One in particular with bushy stark white hair has her arms raised to the sky, conjuring a powerful storm.
- As the flaming skull and ghouls approach the mountain a multi-headed dire troll emerges from the water. It becomes clear that this is a synchronized attack
- From another cave entrance on the mountainside a loud cry pierces through the forest as two massive owlbears emerge ; several dryad figures following in tow
- The party joins in on the fight, aiding Gnawbone’s forces
The acrid fog that hangs thick in the main cavern’s entrance glows brighter and shrouds the outline of a massive shape. Undead forces charge in when suddenly the dull green glow erupts as several figures fly through the haze, out of the cavern as if whipped by a giant. A great grassy hill seems to emerge from the massive mountain chamber then explode with a thunderous boom, shredding the fog and revealing the terrible majesty of an enormous green dragon.
With reckless abandon the dragon takes flight towards the multi-headed troll, one of the only remaining foes. As if slicing through moss the ancient dragon shreds the 20-foot tall troll in half.
Claugiyliamatar’s voice booms
“I GROW TIRED OF THESE PETTY ATTEMPTS TO THAWT MY CAVERNS. WHO AMONG YOU DARE TEMPT MY PATIENCE?”
From high up on the mountain, the bipedal fox comes out from hiding to answer. A smirk washes over the foxes face,
“Oh Claugiyliamatar, I am not worth to gaze upon your majesty. I have come to lair simply to gaze upon your greatness”
With no tolerance for what is transpiring, Gnawbone’s eyes dart to the fox perched on the mountain side; clearing sensing the sarcasm. The dragon quickly scans the battlefield. After a short uncomfortable silence she bellows out in laughter,
“Hahahaha, a fox? Your bones will be bent, your entrails will be twisted and I will mold your body into something more useful, a tooth pick perhaps”
Suddenly the druid with bushy stark white hair appears behind Nole to apprehend the fox, who is willingly surrendering.
Giving little to no regard to the party present, the ancient green dragon and her druids bring Nole into her lair.
[Party goes into lair to find Claug questioning Nole with her druids nearby]
Accepts a “gift” from Nole which serves as their offering to leave with their life. After casting a quick spell to identify the amulet, the dragon put the amulet on. Thinking she outsmarted the fox, she instructs her druids to kill the fox.
Before the druids were able to get within range Nole dissolved into a shroud of black smoke, and at the same time the green emerald necklace around Gnawbone’s neck shattered. The shroud of smoke disappeared into the amulet around the neck of the dragon.
The colossal green dragon falls to the ground, and her whole body begins to shake violently. Her tail thrashes, reducing stalagmites to dust and thunderously colliding with the cave’s walls. The dragon foams at the mouth as a dark, swirling shadow flies into the cave and snakes up into her nostrils. Then, as suddenly as Claugiyliamatar’s violent fit started, it stops.
After a short pause, the dragon’s eyes snap open, revealing her once-green irises to be black, lightless pits. “I, Ebondeath, the Awakening have returned! Praise be to Myrkul!” The dracolich spread her wings, then brought them down with unbridled force and took flight out of her lair, killing several of her own in the process.
The Gnawbones, name of the group of druids that consider themselves Gnawbone’s disciples demanded that the party help them
Through a ritual, Maria Sabina, the druid with bushy stark white hair sacrificed the lives of several of the Gnawbones to empower the party so that they may defeat the dracolich
As insurance they would indeed hold true to their word, the Gnawbones kept Percy as their “hostage”
Maria Sabina teleported the party to the outskirts of Leilon then disappeared shortly thereafter.
The half-finished palisade of Leilon will soon make a complete semicircle on the northeast side of the town, defended by an earthen rampart. To the southwest, new settlers attempt to build docks for barges, made to cross the marsh and meet merchant ships in the sea.
Outside of town, the settlers’ campground becomes ever smaller as new buildings made of wood or stone with thatched roofs are erected in Leilon’s muddy streets. At the center of it all, the New House of Thalivar, a cylindrical wizard tower, rises like a beacon, four times the height of every other building. Some lots still lie in ruins, but the settlers work quickly, clearing and reconstructing.
Visitors with coin to spend are welcome in Leilon, and adventurers are the settlers’ favorites. While there is much work to be done within the town, the party went straight to the Umber Hulk’s Shell Inn for an evening rest.
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