Level 18 - Vanrakdoom

Discovery, Exploration

Found the level overrun by Shar worshipping vampires. Visions were experienced indicating that a dragon had been enslaved by the vampires. After an epic battle the vampires were destroyed and the dragon, Glyster, was saved (see details). They also managed to rescue Portia, who had been enthralled by the vampires.

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Dragon Visions

Several visions were encountered by the party that told the story of Glyster and his friend Vanrak.

Old Friends

As you wade through the mist, a vision consumes your mind: You stand on a cliff next to a sharply dressed mustachioed nobleman, gazing out to the sea. The other man speaks quietly. "I must go, Glyster. The cure is down there, Glyster. Selune has shown it to me."   In his eyes you can see your own image: A regal looking gentleman with eyes the color of freshly worked bronze & a countenance creased by frequent smiles. Your voice is solemn, however. "That place is foul and dangerous, Vanrak."   Vanrak smiles and lays a hand on your shoulder. "Just as well I'll be bringing my closest companion with me then, isn't it?"   "And what makes you think I will join you on this fool venture?" you say, though the question lacks conviction.   Vanrak laughs. "Because if you don't, who shall sing the tales of my victory when we return?" His smile fades somewhat, and he looks at you seriously. "Can I count on you, Glyster? Will you help me save my father?"   You clasp the other man's shoulder firmly. "Aye, Vanrak. You can count on me, to the end of your days. You and I against the world."   Vanrak nods, a tear in his eyes. "Then it is settled. May Selune watch over us as we go to Undermountain. Together."

 

Umbraxakar's Gift

You stand in a ruined tower, looking down on a deep hole that is strikingly familiar. This is certainly the entrance to Undermountain; this must be before the Yawning Portal was constructed. The same nobleman from before stands before you, now dressed in mithral chain and strapped for an expedition. "Well then, Glyster, shall we be about it?"   You reach into your coat and pull out a beautifully crafted sword hilt, carved to resemble a bronze dragon with wings outspread and its mouth agape. You hand it to Vanrak, who takes it with reverence. "This is Sunlight's Wrath, the crowned jewel of my hoard. A token of our friendship."   Vanrak takes the hilt. He utters an arcane phrase, and a blade of pure sunlight springs forth from the dragon's maw. "A sunblade!" murmurs Vanrak, his mouth filled with awe. He turns to you with a smile. "I shall treasure this gift all my days, my dearest Glyster." On a whim, he removes a polished coral ring from his finger, inscribed with the symbol of his house. "For you, my friend. Where you go, House Moonstar goes with you." After handing the precious ring over, he extinguishes the blade and grabs a rope. "Now, let's go get that cure."

Scintilmorn's Rest

You stand in a dark hall as Glyster paces before you, his face haggard. "This is madness, Vanrak! Madness!" you cry.   The nobleman continues pacing, shaking his head. His eyes are ringed with dark circles. "No, Glyster, it must be done. Halaster will poison our minds, destroy us, unless we find a way to shield ourselves from his influence!"   You extend your hands, pleading. "But that witch wants us to pull this place into Shadowfell, Vanrak! That is Shar's domain! This is wrong!"   The nobleman whirls on you, his voice contorting in pain. "My father is dying, Vanrak, but we can yet save him! The cure is close, I know it. We only need more time! Keresta can give us that!" Vanrak shakes his head as if to clear it. "Are you still with me, my friend?"   You nod, forcing a smile. "Of course, Vanrak. You and I, against the world."   Your friend begins to pace again, and your eyes follow him worriedly as the vision fades.

Hall of Death

A vision engulfs your mind, and you find yourself glaring at your friend, Vanrak. His face, drawn and sallow, is contorted in rage. "If you abandon this quest now, Glyster, my father is as good as dead!" he roars. You roar back. "Your father is as good as dead already, Vanrak!"   Suddenly your vision blurs as Vanrak's fist slams into your jaw. You return the favor, and soon the two of you are brawling. One of your blows throws him to the ground. Vanrak leaps to his feet, already drawing the blade of pure sunlight that was your gift to him.   "Vanrak!" you cry, as your form twists and enlarges. Your perspective elevates as you look down at the other man, your form now covered in the bronze scales of your true draconic form. Your voice booms, much deeper than before. "Cease this madness!"   Vanrak stands before you unbowed. "My father draws breath, and I shall stop at nothing to see that it stays that way. I do not wish to harm you, but I will cut your heart from your chest if you try to stop me, drake!"   You take a deep breath, and revert back to your human form. You raise your hands, and Vanrak lowers his head. His blade drops as if from limp fingers. "You cannot abandon me, Glyster. I must remain here to save my father, but I...I don't know if I can go on if you leave. This place...it wears on me. I do not have the strength to continue alone."   You cross the floor and embrace your friend, who begins to sob into your shoulder. "I would never abandon you, Vanrak. Where you go, I will go. It's you and I against the world, remember?"   Vanrak steps back, wiping tears from his eyes. "I do not know what I would do without you, Glyster."

Lost Dwarven Horn

Out from the choking mists loom iron hooks set into the walls. Once decorated with portraits, they lie barren, forgotten, red with rust and neglect. Hanging from a hook is a golden war horn encrusted with rubies and sapphires.   As your eyes make out that gilded horn, your mind reels back with a vision of the past. You find yourself in a great hall buttressed by six columns. Stone-hewn steps climb to a dais whose far wall is flanked with marble black statues, one carved in the likeness of a cloaked woman wielding a dagger—and the other in the visage of the Mad Mage himself. The two statues glare at one another as if they were mortal enemies.   On each of the columns is bound a blindfolded prisoner, beaten and bloody. A pale woman stands behind them, a vicious grin on her face. A hollow voice, which sounds like Vanrak's, calls out. "My sister sent these fools here to disrupt our great work. She labors to murder my father, as surely as if she held a knife to his throat!" There is something very wrong with that voice.   The woman speaks, her voice silky and seductive. "The destruction caused by these zealots has set us too far back. Shar is the only one who can save your father now, my Lord Vanrak...and she requires a sacrifice."   The hollow voice, your friend's voice, speaks again from behind you. "We have come too far to turn back now, my friend. Send these souls to Shar, Umbraxatar."   "They do not see it. Shar is the only one who can save my father now. These souls must be consecrated to her service, that we can win her favor and get the cure at last." These fools were sent by . A hollow voice calls out from the dark, "Give these fools the death they deserve, Umbraxakar!"   At the sound of your new name, you look forlornly at the prisoners. A faint feeling of pity fills you before you crush it out. Your friend needs you. You unleash a blast of your mighty breath weapon against the nearest body: A dwarf. The body withers and dies, a shadow rising from his corpse.

Shattered Throne

On the throne before you is a skeletal lord with crimson pinpricks burning in empty eye sockets, slumped on the throne. In his hands he cradles the sword hilt you gave him, years ago.   "He is dead." the skeletal lord says, his voice full of pain. "Everything we have done. Everything we have sacrificed. And for what? My father is dead. Shall I fight on, slaying those loyal to house Moonstar, simply so that I may rule these moonless halls? Is that all Lady Shar has to offer me now?"   You falter, knowing you must say something, but at a loss of words. "Vanrak, I...Perhaps we can return, perhaps we can convince your sister to..." your voice trails off.   "No, old friend. The restless dead will not allow it. There is no future for us outside of these halls."

Under Black Sheets

You stand before a skeletal knight draped in a mithral chain shirt. In his gauntleted hand is the hilt of a bladeless sword. His bones are almost disintegrating beneath you, crumbling as you watch. His voice is grave and deepened by sorrow. "This," he tells you, mournfully, "is not the fate either of us deserved. We have lost our way, down in this dark pit."   You look down at your claws, grasping helplessly for the words to say. "We did what we had to do, Vanrak. What we were forced to do. We..."   The knight shakes his head, his skeletal visage somehow conveying unfathomable sadness. "No, my friend. That is a lie we have told ourselves for far too long. There was nothing down here for us. I am sorry I led you down here, my friend. Sorry that I forced you to become...I am sorry for all of it."   Your eyes fill with tears as you grip the skeletal hand of your friend. "Vanrak, you cannot leave me here. I do not think I can go on without you. Please, my friend. You and I against the world, remember?"   The death knight looks at you, the red pinpricks in his eye sockets meeting your gaze. "You have been my most loyal friend. I shall always love you. You deserve someone who can stand beside you...but I have had my fill of shadows and darkness." The knight murmurs. "I'm sorry, Glyster. Goodbye, my friend."   The skeleton crumbles to dust before you as the will to leave leaves his body. Before you have time to act, the hilt of the blade you gave him clangs to the ground, and he is gone.   You stare in disbelief. From your throat emerges an anguished roar that shakes the very foundation of this wretched place.

The party used these visions to gain the information needed to remind the dragon Glyster of who he was. With their aid, the dragon shook off the taint of the Shadowfell and escaped to the surface, along with Portia.