Dreams

The pain dulled and left my body with the last drop of my blood. My soul tried to go swirling through the dimensions but I was stuck here. Laying in sleep, yet cold as death. Then the voice I heard countless times before came whispering again. 

" Again you find yourself faced with the void. So many times you have tried to find a purpose, something to fill the hollow of your heart. Again you fail. So many times as you failed, you define your own existence in failure. Are you not tired."

Not for the first time, the words hurt. But for the first time, I gave in. It was to be the last time too.

" Yes. ", I said. " I am tired. "

" I offer you the gift of dreams. Do you want it? "

" Yes.", I replied. " What do you want from me? "

" Nothing else. "

I woke up. The world was different. It was the same world, but my perception went vastly beyond it. I stood up and found myself in the center of a ritual circle. Somehow, I knew who did it, and why. The thought amused me. I was myself, but my feelings felt alien. My body felt foreign and incomplete. I knew what I had to do. What I had dreamed of for nearly a century. 

I left immediately and set off on my path. 

Revelation of the Blood Ravens

The heroes stay at the clockwork inn was a short, but blessedly pleasant one. A place of marvels and impossible things, letting them forget the darkness in their minds, if only for a moment. Auburn's went after bottles of rum and companionship, Liw haggled the bartenders with the rare goods he likes collecting. Fylikiel sat back and observed his surroundings. Aishar received a strange note from a friend from his past, and met with a shadar-kai he had met before. Called by his destiny, he had to leave his friends for some time.

The others faced another calling, it seemed, as they soon saw. Standing out of the crowd distinctly, 5 tough looking adventurers blocked one after the other the 5 exists from the hall they were in. Discussions died, as the crowd and the bartenders examined them.

Then he walked in, clad in heavy battle platemail and his disproportionate blade strapped in his back.Galarnok Partack, leader of the interplanar mercenary company, The Blood Ravens.His presence in force in the clockwork inn, though, was not welcome. He soon bought the bartenders' tolerance with a vial filled full with residuum, then approached the 3 remaining companions, to drop a bulging bag of gold at their feet.

" This is your payment. Well done, I presume. Now, enough pleasantry. Tell me, what in the fucking nine hells happened? "

That is how they were introduced to the Blood Ravens and their purpose on Faerun. They told everything they knew. Somehow, they understood that much more than a handful of coins was on the line, and that the survival of their world depended on these strange mercenaries. Worse still. The Blood Raven were hired to watch their world years ago, waiting for the exact events they had caused by mistake: the release of Quel'Danas.

Their mission: Stop him from unleashing once again the furious destruction that once destroyed a whole eladrin kingdom within mere days.

If the Blood Ravens story holds any truth, they have not much time before them. Months, maybe weeks, before the ancient eladrin arcanist restore enough of his former powers to once again threaten this world with destruction and death.

The mercenaries do not know where to look for. They don't know how to find him, how to contact him, how to hurt and destroy him. But Galarnok realizes that the heroes he had hired in Baldur's Gate for a simple investigation turned out to be much more formidable than he had thought. They also are the only ones who confronted Quel'Danas once. And somehow, destiny is in play, as Fylikiel reveals the truth of his family ancestry, relating him to the ancient Quel'Danas. 

So he asked them their price.

Freedom from his demonic tutor, Liw requested.

For Auburn, all he wants is cleaning of the name Brandis, making them free men and no longer pirates and criminals.

Fylikiel said he would reflect upon it, but nonetheless accepted the offer.

They would be on a mission, for The Blood Raven and their mysterious employer, to oppose Quel'Danas' rise  to power, to study and find him, and ultimately find a mean to destroy him. By any means necessary.

With only their wits and a handful of clues and theories, they left the clockwork inn for Waterdeep, back in their world, where started their research of the only meager pieces of information they had.

And the countdown has started...

Dark wings, Dark words

The obsidian raven cawed only once as it appeared through the window, killing the conversation instantly. The animated stone bird landed heavily on the strong shoulder of an armored man standing by the hearth. Galarnok did not seemed surprised. He took a roll of parchment from the bird's grasp and unrolled it. The men around him waited while the Blood Raven.

A dwarf in a heavy spiked dwarven fullplate snorted and said aloud to no one in particular "Dark wings, dark words. Right?".

Galarnok was silent a moment longer then passed the parchment to an elf clad in leather standing next to him. Then he turned his eyes outside, at the gloom of the swordcoast. He gave Nouraha Hawkeye enough time to read, when understanding showed in the rogue's face, he turned and addressed his companions.

" What we have been waiting for as come at last, although the damages are far worse than I had thought. The whole of Baldur's Gate has been annihilated. It's population is now at the enemy's service. Only the inner city holds. "

He let the news sink in a second. These were men of steel, hardship and horror; no one seemed impressed. Planewalking will do that to a man. A huge hulking monstrosity with four arms and stinking of rotting flesh, Lukkieddi Vonritch spat a glob of flegm.

" So what? No Blood Raven I know is scared of zombies or banshees. "

" No doubt ", replied Galarnok, " And this changes nothing to the contract. Our quarry has manifested itself now and we will proceed as planned, even if its might is beyond what we were told. Now, I need to talk to her... "

To that, Nouraha seemed uncertain. " Are you sure? I do not think Stuh Ryback would appreciate... ". Galarnok hushed him with a cold stare.

" Stuh Ryback is no longer a Blood Raven. He has not been for a long time. His daughter on the other hand... ", he let his sentence unfinished as he searched in the folds of his magical haversack to produce a small bead of amber.

Galarnok brought it to his lips to whisper soft words onto the amber, which immediately started glowing softly. He then threw it in the middle of the room, where it exploded in a puff of red flames and smoke. When the smoke cleared, standing amongst them was a rare sight. Tall and slender, lightly armored and armed with an heavy wicked looking spear; before them stood a woman of supernatural beauty, long angelic hairs and white feathery wings, with satyr like legs, though hairless, ended with hooves. Half demon and half angel, with no normal human blood, she stood magnificient. Then she turned her gaze to Galarnok.

" You have called uncle? ", she asked, her voice sounding like a sweet melody, but leaving a feeling of dark promises.

" You have an assignment. I want some adventurers found. Fast. "

Baldur's Gate - 1479 DR - 5th of Elcasias

In Baldur's Gate's many many streets, countless souls went about their business. The gloom made people angry, hot tempered, and the Flaming Fist had busy days and nights. Not that you could tell day from night anymore. Without sunlight, the moods were just as dark as the sky.

The inner city, the only walled part of Baldur's Gate, was much like it was a hundred years ago, except that these days, the gates almost never closed. They were closed that day though. The Flaming Fist had sealed off the inner city at the request of the council. Guards had to examine everyone coming in and out of the port. Nobody seemed to know why, yet, that is the only thing that would save the city.

A few elves or dwarves will recall the events of Neverwinter a hundred year ago when the city was besieged from within, sacked and burned. These images haunted them long years before fading from memory. These images came rushing back as the outer wards of the city fell, one after the other, to a wave of death.

It started in the large flea market sitting next to various races districts, where gnomes, dwarves, elves or genasis came to barter their goods and skills. Nobody could see just what happens beside greenish flames bursting across the market, blasting from the ground, chasing people and burning through stalls. From the watch towers, guards could have a better view of the flames tracing magical runes, completing a circle of filled with symbols, killing and burning as they went.

Then a brief second of quiet, before the creatures appeared. Dozens of huge hulking patchwork abominations came surging from the market, surrounded with many more smaller rotting corpses. The attack was short, but the effect devastating, as every huge zombie hulk had a single purpose. Scatter across the city, and die. Died they did, as the Flaming Fist and various adventurers came forth to defend the city. Thus unleashing the real attack: Noxious gas surged from the dying corpses of the abominations, and spread across the streets, infecting the crowds, children and women. Killing the young and old faster than the strongest, only to see the dead rise and attack, infecting more people.

The wave of death crashed on the stone walls of the inner city, which the Flaming Fist barred.

Most of the rest died, hid or formed barricades. As far as the eye can see, from the walls of Baldur's Gate, the dead are crawling mindlessly. Waiting their master's orders.

The castle in the sky

Fylikiel was still tracing diagrams on the floor of the courtyard at a spot Moreclaym had designated, when Liw, Auburn and Aishar landed. He barely noticed them. Ritual magic was a precise science requiring concentration. But when they lay Acane's lifeless body against the stone walls, no amount of concentration would save his ritual.

He steeled himself, his face becoming a mask; his emotions were his own and he wouldn't share them openly. Auburn's face showed his pain though, as Aishar's showed weariness. The encounter had been trying, for all of them. That had been beaten.

Moreclaym's cleared his throat. As all four turned their eyes to him, he started.

" Young adventurers, it would be proper to let you mourn your fallen comrade, yet We should remind you of where we are. The shadowfel might very well claim her soul as well as her body, if it really is where we are now. Her god might find her fast enough also. Was she the pious kind? ", he continued before they could think of an answer. " We'd say burn her body here and now... ", to that both Auburn and Aishar burst in protests, but the plagued mage stopped them, " or you can leave her to us. I'll perform a Gentle Repose ritual to protect her, and keep her within my keep. Murnorr won't mind the company either. He is not the complaining kind".

" Also, We are curious, " he said after a pause and a nod toward the statue of his friend. " What shall you do? It seems to me two of you wish to go back to the crypts, and two of you want nothing to do with crypts. We offer that you stay here as we drift back toward Daggerford. Those of you who are restless can go explore these crypts. ", he hesitated and seemed a little annoyed, "  Yes yes. I am reminded that you could use some of my own ritual equipment. Linking a teleportation circle with my own would make for easy travel. Mugnorr insists that I help you in this endeavor. ", he finished sullenly.

The decisions were their's to make.

On the trail of the Heroes...

The massive obsidian wall blocking the path seemed mechanism and door less. As Liw was trying to find a mean to open it, Fylikiel consulted his old tomes, hoping to find details of the runes inscribed upon the door. Soon enough, he was able to find a passage describing how the Quel'Danas tombs were blocked to all but the descendant of the ancient family. Not hoping, Fylikiel touched the massive wall and was quite surprised to see it magically open for him, using his life force to activate the ancient magic.

They were greeted by a couple of savage twisted ghouls, corrupted by the spellplague, accompanied by two eladrin servants who turned out to be Flameskulls. Not without a few wounds, they defeated them, forcing the last one to destroy itself or face the arcane might of Liw and Fylikiel.

The outer cloister of the sanctum had four doors leading to chambers. And a fifth passage that was blocked off by a very powerful magical wall, that Fylikiel described as akin to mythals and elven high magic. From the Flameskulls laboratory and notes, they found almost nothing, save for a small obsidian disk bearing numbers. A dial, part of a mechanism it seemed.

One of the chamber had been cleared of guardians and traps by the servants, so they ventured into the 3 remaining chambers, battling a beholder guardian and its follower, savage Foulspawns. That encounter proved to be nearly fatal, explaining why the undead servants had not yet pried into these chambers. The second chamber was a water trap, nearly drowning them, but with Liw's quick thinking and Acane's determination, they were able to slow the water and crack the door open to escape alive. In these chambers they found another dial, larger than the first, and metal tablets with cryptic mathematical writings.

The last one contained stone altars with a slot into which the dials fit. Bearing arcane runes, these devices seemed to power a magical ritual, most probably holding the magical shield up. They struggled at deciphering the writings and mathematical formulas, using all their skills to figure out pieces of the possible. Hours passed before they were able to find the solution. Activating the devices in turn, they turned off the magical ritual, and going back to the first room of the tomb, they saw that they had indeed disabled the magical wall sealing the inner sanctum.

That was how they came to see the last resting place of Quel'Danas. In an large circular room, covered with magnificent frescoes depicting an epic battle between forces of good and evil, eladrins all. Stones pillars had a large plateform, that they determined was either a very large teleportation r some other ritual circle, as well as a smaller wall on the floor. At the back of the room, under the final scene of the fresco showing the two Quel'Danas twin in mortal combat, the sarcophagus lay, toped by the carving of a robed eladrin, impaled to the hilt by a sword.

" You have my thanks for opening the way. Welcome into my tomb ". A voice sounded from the passage from which they had come. Then from the following silence came heavy armored footstep. Walking into the room came the massive form of the Death Knight they had met what seemed months ago. Behind the knight came Quel'Danas himself. Garbed in leather robes and various gear, he walked to the middle of the room and greeted them further, thanking them for lifting the ritual, explaining how he had been forbidden access by his very nature: the magic kept undeath at bay. With the magic gone, he could at last claim his lost body, joining spirit and body again after millennias. The heroes tried to move in to stop him, by activating the ritual was too fast for them to act. Quel'Danas slit his wrist, and a green sluggish blood dripped to the floor, flowing to form runes. Within seconds, the eladrin shape had dissolved into rotting bones. Then the death knight swung his massive blade, shattering the rotting corpse of Quel'Danas and sharing its undead essence with his master, starting the ritual.

They tried as best they could to stop the ritual, but it was all they could to survive the devastating brute necrotic strength of the death knight. Even weakened, the undead warrior proved too strong for them, unleashing necrotic flames and nearly killing Fylikiel, Aishar and Auburn at the same time. Fylikiel teleported himself to the top of the altar, witnessing the ritual with his own eyes. Desperate, he tried his magic against the transforming eladrin, to be struck by a protective shield, the jolt knocking him unconscious. Acane followed him, climbing from the sarcopagus and reaching the top. Liw had thought the ancient corpse the key of the ritual and had poured all he had of acid and even mouther blood into the sarcophagus, and utlimately, that was what affected Quel'Danas most. As Liw had to the other end of the room and climb a ladder to the plateform,, he activated a magical sight, allowing him to see the trapped souls of eladrins escaping the walls and flowing onto the plateform, out of sight. Then the coffin exploded, sending shards of rocks accross the room and knocking them down, even the death knight.

That explosion marked the end of the ritual.

Standing on the platform, Quel'Danas stood an instant, unmoving. Then smiled, as if unbelieving.

"It worked", he whispered, mostly to himself. Longing for the world, he activated the platform with a gesture, magically transporting it to the surface, hundreds of meters above the ground, within a few seconds. Separating the group, leaving Aishar and Auburn behind, stuck with the powerful Death Knight.

Luckily for them, the Death Knight, his task done, had nothing to do with them and after a last necrotic blast, left them alone and bloody. They had to bargain their way with the drows to go back, freely giving Naism'na all the information they knew in exchange for safe passage, a deal the drow was pleased to accept.

Meanwhile, Liw, Acane and Fylikiel faced a most dire peril. A newly resurrect Eladrin arcanist, paragon of his race. They thought for an instant that he might still be weakened by the ritual. As Que'Danas comtemplated the vast wilderness of the swordcoast in wonder, they all tried to attack him in turn. Liw's eldritch blast missed by a mile, Fylikiel's snake sprout to life and fuel his Call of the Plague, to naught. Unmoving, the Eladrin just stood, breathing in the air peacefully, oblivious to their attacks... until two arrows struck him in the back, wounding him.

The pain broke his blissful moment. He turned toward Acane, angry. Without a word, he unleashed his magic at the poor tiefling. A violent frostburn spells exploded around her, leaving her nearly dead and encased in ice, yet she survied. Then Quel'Danas moved faster than the eye, appearing next to her, then invoking telekinetic hands to lift her bodily, and throw her off the platform, to her certain death. It all happened so fast, none of the two others had time to react.

Then Quel'Danas turned to them, "Anyone else has the desire to anger me in this most blissful of times, and come to his untimely death? Are you so eager to die?"

Fylikiel, overcome by emotion and all that had happened, could only defy him with words, "You think you have won. But know this, you think your brother dead. But as you resurrected, so will he. I know that it is true. As a descendant of your ancient family, I vow to find his lost power and destroy you, Quel'Danas.".

The ancient Eladrin had no response to that threat; obviously shaken by the notion, he only stared at Fylikiel, looking at him uncertain, as the truth came to him: he was not the last of his kind. Then, giving himself to his god and faith, Fylikiel let himself fall from the side of the platform, hoping that his destiny did not involve the rocky ground below.

Liw was left alone with the eladrin. Quel'Danas turned to him, "And you, Warlock, are you as foolish as your companions, do you wish to defy me and die?". To that, the demonic warlock answered "I have faced the cruelty and wrath of demons and gods. I will not submit to the likes of you!".

"So be it. Join your friends. Try your best, warn your people. Know this though: On this day, your world as you knew it i forever changed. Soon, all you see will be mine, as it was when the world was still young."

Then his body lost shape and transformed into a swarm of wasps. Then he was gone.

Alone, Liw allowed himself to breathe again. The demonic voice in his head echoing charming invitations and angered threats all at once. He ignored them and busied himself in sorting his belongings and studying the platform.

Soon after, a floating castle came to carry him away. The gods must have heard Fylikiel, as he had fell right into the courtyard of Moreclaym's magical castle instead of falling to his death. It all seemed incredible, but after what had just happened, they were not surprised in the least. With Moreclaym's handy magic, they found Auburn and Aishar, as well as the dead corpse of Acane, and carried them back to the floating castle, as it drifted away from the coast.

On that day, the world had changed. Forgotten perils had reemerged along the swordcoast, and the Realms would never be the same...

Baldur's Gate - 1479 DR - 4th of Elcasias

Some hundred years ago, Baldur's Gate was a capital city of roughly 40'000 souls. But during the dark years of the Spellplague, the city laid untouched by wild magics. Thousands of people moved in, from everywhere around Faerun. Every race has its place, even its ward beyond the former city walls, and the housings spread across the lands. The population swelled so much, it has become the most populous city in the realms, larger even than Waterdeep and Calimport. The Flaming Fist now acts as the local militia, under the order of Grand Duke Portyr and the city's parliament. Life is good, if not always quiet, in the Miracle City, and in this warm Elcasias day, the sun would shine as high as the polulace's spirit, if it could be seen. Darkness covers the city just as it covered the rest of the coast, but Baldurians don't get worried over such phenomenon. The gods have protected the city through the spellplague, and the word around town is that they will protect it through this as well.