Games Logs

Krelldutt and his group hold their position at the top of the stairs, hidden from the druids’ sight. Blinsky crouches low, tugging at Krelld

The shelves of the Great Library climb upward into darkness, tier after tier of arcane curiosities vanishing into the vaulted ceiling high a

The Amber Temple settles into quiet. The flame skull that had been harassing Rakthe withdraws, vanishing into the darkness, and the oppressive silence of the temple reasserts itself. Vilnius is dead. His mummified remains lie near the entrance to the chamber — skin tight and leathery over the bones beneath, pocked and discolored from whatever illness had been eating him long before his final moments. He crumbles wherever he is touched, fragments of him dropping to the marble

On the floor of the Great Hall, Biblo is confronted by the arcanaloth, Neferon. “Exethanter, the lich, wants to see me?” The dragonborn gulps and regards the creature who stands before him. Some sort of infernal, Biblo guesses, looks jackal-like. With tawny fur, a bushy tail and a foxy face, Neferon’s odd, coppery eyes have horizontal slits for pupils. They are jagged, like a lightning bolt. He regards Biblo with an inscrutable expression. ”What does the lich want of me?”

The trio, Komzin, Bayleaf and Rakthe leave the stranger Neferon, who enters the titanic statue through a door on one of the giant’s heels. They move carefully through the Amber Temple's lower level, beginning their search for Fekre, the goddess of hawks and plague, by examining where her vestige had been incarcerated.