Session #81
15 H’rarmont (23:00)
You all proceed to stay the night (long rest). Duuring the preperations, Alhana mentions that the in the the city of Shalost, there is a tower that would provide us an advantage.
Waylorn's Tower. This tower is the main area of defence in Silvanesti, you can teleport to any major city from this location. This is also where Waylorn Wyvernsbane's remains are buried.
As your party settles into uneasy rest beneath the tangled canopy of the trees of the Bleeding Forest, an unnatural stillness drapes over the area.
Sleep doesn’t come quickly.
Even though some of you are on watch, after about an hour, all of you fall into a deep sleep.
A second later, you awaken—not in your tree house, but within a vast, decaying throne room carved from blackened stone. The walls curve unnaturally, green light threading through the cracks. The air is thick and heavy, tasting of ash and something bitter… something rotten.
At the room’s heart, raised upon a crumbling dais, sits a figure slumped upon a throne of twisted black iron and bone — King Lorac Caladon. Although you have never seen him, you know this to be true.
You can here Alhana’s voice confirming this is her father.
His robes are torn and stained with dark streaks. His crown, cracked and corroded. His hollow eyes glow faintly green, hands trembling, placed on a large Orb.
Tendrils of dark mist seep from the orb, snaking around his arms, burrowing into his flesh like parasitic roots.
And coiled behind the throne, is an enormous green dragon. The dragon’s eyes are fixed on King Lorac. Its grin reveals rows of jagged, yellowed teeth, its voice slithers through the chamber, low and mocking, dripping with contempt:
Speaking to Lorac he says:
“How far you’ve fallen, King Lorac.” “Look at you—clutching your precious orb, drowning in the very nightmare you created. Did you think you could command its power? That your will was stronger than mine?”
You see that Lorac trembles, his fingers tightening around the orb until his knuckles turn white. His lips part as if to speak, but no sound comes out.
His eyes, filled with terror and regret, seem to plead silently for an escape that will never come.
The dragon leans closer, its massive head hovering just above Lorac’s fragile form, its breath washing over him like a toxic fog. The dragon's voice softens, with a sinister whisper:
“You were nothing without your crown, Lorac. And now… you are nothing with it.”
The orb starts to pulse violently in Lorac’s hands, a surge of green light illuminates the chamber. The walls start to tremble cracks appear on the floor. The throne crumbles further under the weight of Lorac’s despair. The dragon watches, amused, as its prisoner withers away—not by tooth or claw, but by the crushing weight of his own failures.
Then, as the green light grows blinding, the dragon speaks one last time, its voice now a venomous purr:
“Hold it tighter, king. Let it devour what little remains of you.”
Juste at the end when you feel yourselves returning to reality, some of you notice that King Lorac extends his hand at the end and he throws something in your direction.
You jolt awake, gasping for breath. Your heart pounds in your chest, sweat chilling your skin despite the cold night air.
Alhana says out loud, was that a dream?
You all remember it—every detail—etched into your minds with terrifying clarity.
Jack wakes clutching a small, translucent shard of green crystal—cool to the touch, pulsing faintly with residual magic.
Heimdall - Identify : This translucent green crystal is a fragment of a Dragon Orb’s corrupted essence, containing both residual power and psychic echoes of the one it ensnared—King Lorac Caladon. Created by and tethered to both the material plane and the fractured consciousness of King Lorac Caladon.
The rest of the nigh is uneventfull and you manage to sleep without any distractions.
Long rest....
16 H’rarmont (07:00)
Next morning you continue towards Shalost. Alhana suggests a route to avoid detection.
You travel throughout the day, after a short stop for lunch, you com to a path ahead that is swallowed by the trees stretching desperately toward the sky. A detour of this very dense wooded area would add a day of travel.
You decide to go through....
While passing through the dense wooded path, your start to hear voices, but not aloud, in your mind.
Soft at first. Its voices know you. They whisper your name.
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Le Nordais – Voici of Kitiara "you have failed in life and not worth the ground you stand on…"
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Dorren – Dereck, Knight of Solamnia, "you were never a true knight. You are the worst he has ever trained—disgraceful, without a future. Soon, you will be cast out from the knighthood"
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Jack – Soft voice you haven’t hear in a while, Samara Everhorn, your girlfriend. "You left me behind to die, captured and tortured by the draconians. You Ungrateful Kender…"
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Kelson – Memories of the screams from your travels to Darkenwood, horrible voices tangled together wishing your death…
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Heimdall – Voice that speaks to you is your brother Flint, "I'm so disappointed that you left home and didn’t help me. I’m now dead because you were not at my side and didn’t help me, or save me…"
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Hermes – Elistan voice resonates, telling to "Do not belive in the true Gods, they are also false gods that just want power to destroy Krynn once again."
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Alhana – Your fathers voice echoes through the woods, "return to our people in Ergoth and never return to this place.."
As these voices fill your heads, you all start to feel uneasy, small glimpses of ghostly figures and shadows moving in the periphery. You turn to look but nothing is there...
At that moment, from all around you, from the ground to the top of the trees (30 feet), arms and hands start to come in closer and grab your arms and legs.
After some creative actions, you all manage to go through the skeletal hands that caused necrotic and bludgeoning, and would eventually pulled you into the dense woods and becoming petrified into wood.
Continuing your travel in the rest of the afternoon, near 5pm, the sky starts to look strange.
The sky fractures with an otherworldly scream, as if the very fabric of reality has been torn apart. Shadows ripple across the sky, swallowing the sunlight. A pressure builds in the air—heavy, suffocating—until it bursts with the deafening roar of a hundred monstrous screams.
Dragons, a lot of dragons…
Dozens of them. Black, red, green, blue, and white—of all sizes—tear through the clouds in a vast, disciplined formation. The dragons unleash their wrath by directing their breath weapons into the clouds:
• Corrosive acid streams, burning holes through the clouds.
• Flames scorch the heavens.
• Bolts of lightning rip the sky apart.
• Frozen cones of ice create razor-sharp snowflakes.
• Poison gases spread, swirling around the clouds themselves.
Where these breath weapons collide, the sky ruptures as if wounded.
The dragons scatter and fly into the clouds...
A thick, dark rain starts to pour from the clouds, falling to the earth below. This is not natural rain.
It's blood...
As the blood rain falls, covers you with a thick wet liquid, its becoming difficult to see. The blood rain soaks into the ground. You vision blurs, the world around you is distorted, and you have a creepy feeling.
Heimdall and Hermes are completely distracted form these effects and you both are fully convinced that your friends are draconians and would do what you would in a normal setting, attack.
The others notice that notice Heimdall's and Hermes' eyes are flickering and going dark.
A fight breaks out between all of you and attempts are made to restrain your friends, but in the end a Mass Suggestion spell is cast by le Nordais, suggesting to them that "Now is not the time for violence. Drop your weapons, and dance! Stop in an hour.”
As you both fail the save, you are charmed, drop your weapons and start dancing. The affect are eventually stopped with Kelson slapping Heimdall (critical Hit) and Hermes (mild slap) to end the charmed affect.
16 H’rarmont (19:00)
At this point, you still have 6 hours of travel to make it to the Tower of Shalost.
