The party is confronted with these three, mammoth-sized spiders with odd-numbered legs, twirling their web bolas. The one in the middle makes some strange clicking sounds as they rub two of their legs together, balancing on the rocky, icy crags under the shadow of Mhar Massif. And in the midst of those clicks, suddenly everyone can all understand the language, as if it’s being translated instantly in their minds.
The spiders converse with the party, asking them to act as their executioners against their enemies. Apparently, denizens of Leng made an agreement with the Runelord 10,000 years ago to build a Leng Device. Although the spiders don’t know the details of how the device operates, they want the party to destroy it and any other creatures from Leng they might encounter.
In exchange, they will lead the party through the mountains to the Pinnacle under Mhar Massif, directly to the occlusion field. Trace, reluctant at making yet another deal, agrees that this is their best option to quickly scaling the mountain before the altitude gets to them. They swallow some elixirs of the peaks and follow the spiders upwards.
Once they arrive at the occlusion field, the party puts on their Sihedron items and pull out their runeforged weapons. This is it; we’re in the endgame now.
Fyn is the first to step through, and as he breaks the plane of the field, his mind flashes to an ancient memory:
His mind is populated with an inky, smoggy blackness. In a few moments, the darkness achieves various hues of gray, coiling out into a cloudy sky above the brass skyline of a towering city.
We travel along the through the bustling streets, filled with all manner of people rushing about. There are sickly sweet smells; burning incense, roasted dates, and sizzling meats. The sounds of active market life are almost enough to drown out screams that echo from dark alleyways, ignored and dismissed as commonplace by the busy people.
The camera stops, angled towards a dingy archway. A rusty sign swings lazily above the doorway, embossed with a chipped logo resembling a bubbling vial. A young boy, no more than ten, steps out from the dark archway. His jet-black hair glistens with sweat as he steps down to the street, the morning sun causing his tanned skin to glow. His left fist is clenched, and the camera zooms in as he opens his pal, revealing its contents.
It’s a set of bloody, gold-covered teeth.
We follow the boy as he walks along the market street, bumping into passerby as he looks around anxiously. He wipes a few stray specks of blood from his forehead and turns towards an open square dominated by a massive, jeweled fountain depicting a slender figure holding a thick tome inscribed with Thassilonian runes.
The boy’s attention is drawn to a man preaching from raised stone steps. A small crowd has gathered around the man, who removes a purple cloth from a large, rectangular cage to reveal a scrawny imp inside. The crowd gasps and oohs as the imp throws itself against the cage bars in rage.
The boy slowly pushes forward towards the front of the crowd as the man calms the crowd. A nearby suitcase has a simple name pressed into the side: Thurbel.
As the devil continues to thrash in its housing, the man begins to chant an incantation. Faint purple light begins to dance around his fingertips before slowly arcing, creating an iridescent bridge between Thurbel and the imp. When the light reaches the imps head, it suddenly stops smashing its battered body against the iron cage.
With a flick of his hand, Thurbel unlocks the cage, which swings open as everybody backs up a few steps in unison. Everybody, except the boy, who stands transfixed. The imp steps out of the cage, looking around at all the people, snarling. Suddenly, he leaps into the air – people scream and back up further – before flipping into a forward roll and landing on its feet in front of the boy. They lock eyes.
Whispers spread through the crowd as this boy and imp stare at each other. Thurbel snaps his wrist again, opening the battered suitcase to reveal the horn similar to that of a phonograph.Music begins playing as the imp breaks into a jig, pumping its arms and legs in a comical way, sending laughs rippling through the crowd and applause breaks out. Thurbel bows, removing his hat and passing it around, as people fill it with their angular coins.
Time passes and the crowd disperses, leaving Thurbel to recage the imp, alone with the boy. The sun is setting.
We see the boy step upwards, and Thurbel turns towards him. The boy opens his fist once more, looking up at Thurbel, who pauses for a moment before holding open his own palm. Like tiny golden eggs, the teeth float upwards and into Thurbel’s hand. The boy smiles, and throws the purple cloth over the cage.
The rest of the party sees the same vision as they enter the field, finally seeing the towering structures that make up the Pinnacle of Xin-Shalast. Three large structures rise up in front of them, obscuring a winding set of switchbacks leading up towards the main, cylindrical structure. Six alabaster obelisks stand to the west, and a thick, triangular fortress hangs over the edge of the cliff nearby.
Fobias uses his Eagle Eye ability, scanning the area for signs of life. There are none. He’s able to discern that the obelisks appear to be some kind of rookery, with openings near the top of the pyramidal peak. From his vantage point, he can also see that the main building is open on the lowest floor. There’s a spiraling ramp that leads up in the midst of the bulky pillars supporting the building.
With a deep breath, the party enters the nearest tower. It’s nicely furnished, but it doesn’t seem like anybody has been in here for quite some time. Eventually, while exploring floor-by-floor, they arrive at an informative, museum-like room detailing the purpose of these three towers, known collectively as the Harridan’s Compound. Essentially, they were populated with lamia harridan, who oversaw the interrogation and administration of the empire.
Investigation of the second and third towers yield similar results; absent of life. At this point the party is getting concerned; why wouldn’t there be more hustle and bustle around these towers if Karzoug had returned? Why let such great real estate go to waste?
They head to the obelisks, and are confronted with enormous piles of bones and frozen, rotten flesh. It’s evident that this rookery housed something much larger than common carrier pigeons, and the party deduces that dragons once roosted here. Again, there is little sign of recent activity in these structures.
Finally, they head to the overhanging fortress. With a simple stone shape spell, the party enters the lowest level, directly into a prison cell. The entire wing of the fortress appears to be made up of countless cells, some of them containing a skeleton of an unlucky victim.
Towards one end of the hallway, a hulking stone statue utters a robotic phrase on repeat. “You are being indoctrinated. Eternity is forever. Long live Runelord Karzoug.”
Where is everyone? What is Karzoug up to? Is the adventure going to be over NEXT WEEK?!