(From: 8. The Living and The Dead)
Having triumphed over the source of the undead attacks on the domain and druids of Old Gnawbone, the party returns to the Claugiyliamatar's Lair. Belcoria carries the dried corpse of the dragon's antagonizer, Viantha Cruelhex. Ujio and Alorrik prod along the blank-staring zombie of the Gnawbone Druid, Affiriea Gladeborn. Willow and Shadow trail behind, watchful for the revenge-seeking ranger Morigast Brokengulf.
The elder druid, Argina Therrow, examines Affieriea, indicating she does not think anything can be done but to offer her mercy in a proper destruction and release - but seeks her dragon's guidance first. Our Party relates their account of the tracking, the battle, and the ancient dragon listens patiently, and despite being treacherous, she is also fair - and she offers to swap items from her own treasure hoard for the battle spoils - or even some of your own. (It becomes clear she has done this many times before, in the practiced process that follows...) She is able to call up items from - somewhere - and as the trades are concluding, she nods to Argina, kneeling with her fellow druids, to begin the ritual destruction of the zombified Affieriea, bound ceremoniously to the mossy cavern floor.
Old Gnawbone suddenly startles, as the cold dead body of Affiriea splits open, and a long twisting dark form emerges and encircles the ancient dragon, enshrouding her form, drawing itself into her eyes, nostrils, mouth, long purplish fingers rolling out to grasp the surfaces of her powerful green wings. She begins to thrash, sending ceiling rocks smashing to the floor, knocking over statues - and forcing all to take cover. Then just as suddenly - she collapses and lies still, a black foam bubbling softly from her mouth, its scent even more foul than her prior toxic fumes. After a long... tense... moment... her eyes snap wide open, black as the night sky.
The dragon stands and stretches its wings - twice the span of Venomfang's, and stirring whirls of leaves and spores in the mossy cavern. She speaks, with an unearthly overtone, a thunderous voice - triumphant,
"I, the great Char-DAHN-Sear-ra-VIT-riol return! Praise be to Myrkul, the Ebondeath is released!"
The tension and shock of the moment paralyzes all the observers: adventurers, Gnawbone Druids, the Wood Wodes, the quiet of the forest. Launching with swiftness born of dark glory, the dragon streaks from the cavern into the sky, banking south toward the Mere of Dead Men.
Barring any immediate chase, a squadron of Sword Wraiths stands outside the cave. These are destroyed handily by the enraged Wood Wodes of the Gnawbone's Caverns, but the loss is heavy upon all in this place, as the party contemplates their own role in bringing the dread prophecy from the Shrine of Bahamut to be. After some time, Argina affirms she will stand by the dragon's offer to swap the items - the Dark Helm, the Dark Shield, and the Lifethirsting Longsword with something from the hoard.
But the main focus of the party now is on the return to bear the news to the Town of Leilon, that had entrusted its safety to these heroes. A quiet anger and gloom hang heavily over the party, traveling back through the hills to the High Road - none dare confront the four wearing such dark looks.
In Leilon, the news is spoken quietly to the Town Council alone to decide what next to do. Hazz Yorrum is tasked with requesting aid from Gnomengarde. A party must be sent with haste to request aid from Neverwinter. All who might bolster the town's defenses should be called upon.