Session 38: The Search for the Vault

General Summary

Battle in the Black Glass Amphitheater

Through the scrying eye, I watched in silent dread as the Ravener shrieked in fury. The amphitheater's obsidian floor cracked and scorched beneath her beat of wings and roar of flame. Our allies had rallied—finally unified in their assault. Goq crept up the arena wall like a shadow, Dulb slipped in beneath the beast's reach to strike with his blade, and Sunny planted his feet and roared to draw her attention. Warby soared above it all, his protective magics finally in place, raining radiant power from above.
The Ravener fought like a cornered god. A single wing beat nearly caved in Goq's chest, and Sunny faltered, half-melted by the second blast of corrupted flame. But somehow, they stood. Somehow, they pressed forward. The party shattered her wings as she tried to take to the air—one final attempt to flee or gain advantage. Then, just as she collapsed into what should have been death, the shimmer came. Unholy. Familiar. A soul ward of terrible strength flared into being.
They didn’t hesitate.
A final volley of spell and steel tore through the lingering protection. The Ravener’s howl was swallowed as her massive body tumbled into the lava below. Gone. Or so I hope.

The Scythe and the Boulder

The reward for their ordeal was not easily claimed. The final Vault Key fragment was embedded below a statue’s mouth—one pouring lava like drool from a dead god. Warby’s first attempt to pull the scythe free failed, while Sunny accidentally shattered the statue’s lower jaw, releasing a tidal wave of molten rock. I nearly turned my gaze away. But Goq—dear, overconfident Goq—enlarged himself, heaved a boulder from the arena’s crumbling rim, and jammed it into the statue's maw to dam the flow.
It worked, barely. Warby snatched the scythe—revealed now as a weapon of Mordos. A blade that doesn’t cut flesh, but unravels essence. The others wisely kept their distance. Dulb, meanwhile, found some gold. Of course he did.

Southward Through the Crystals

From the amphitheater, they turned southward into the Embershard Plains. My vision wavered more often here—storms of razored crystal scoured the land, magical interference surging with each gust. They survived it all: the glittering storms, the lies of a deadly mirage (and feathers of a Pheonixdrake), and the soft song of whispers too faint for me to hear.
Finally, they came upon a ring of basalt pillars. I felt it even through the scrying—Ishara’s presence. It lingered like memory and like breath. That night, as they rested in the Seared Stone Circle, the eye showed me what they saw: dream-visions of darkening crucibles, obsidian towers that pulsed with breathless heat, and a whisper not spoken aloud: "He drains the breath of creation to open that which should remain sealed."
Even in sleep, they cannot escape Melkorion’s reach.

Secrets Buried Beneath the Forge

Driven by dread and necessity, they continued south. Beneath the fractured ribs of some forgotten archive, they uncovered a memory crystal etched with Xerakan’s sigil. It was clear: Melkorion's shadow gathers in the Cindershroud. Where exactly, the crystal did not say. But now we know his direction.
Just beyond the archive lay another trial. A ruined reliquary hidden beneath slag and bonefire, warded by swirling chains of shadow and divine flame. The Vault Key fragment pulsed inside. Sunny—fearless or foolish—charged ahead. He seized the fragment before the trap could fully form. But it still triggered.
Sentient chains, lashing out in divine judgment, and a wave of choking ash flooded the ruin. Yet Sunny evaded every trap. The others fought off the entangling chains, carving a path through glowing metal to escape. They now held two pieces of the Vault Key.

The Sentient Door

Their last stop before rest was a strange one—a vault door, still alive in some way, speaking in ancient Pyric. It was fond of conversation, perhaps lonely, and it offered riddles and insight in exchange for wit. The party answered well enough to gain entry to the chamber beyond.
Inside: a few consumables, some ancient notes, and—more importantly—shelter. They made camp for the night, nestled in the heart of a forge once shaped by gods and ghosts alike.
I watch them now, sleeping restlessly beneath the glow of magic and burden. The scrying eye dims with ash on the wind. Whatever awaits in the Cindershroud, I fear it will make the Ravener seem merciful.
—Sera

Campaign

The New Dawnbreakers

Protagonists

Sunny Grannach

Brazen White Bulb Conquering Red Blossom

Dulb the Deckhand

Dulb's sheet

Level 13 Swashbuckler.

Health

/

Goq-Ixai

Report Date

17 May 2025