Icy terror travels down the spines of the helpless, as a bestial roar echoes across the Village of Kites. The village is soaked in rain, submerged in unnatural darkness, and our heroes are trying to get themselves and the remaining villagers into the Church of Erathis before Karna-Kar circles back.
Acting with haste to help those imprisoned, Mornington rushes over to cut the restraints of the villagers held hostage in the graveyard. They rise to their feet and run for the shelter of the church as fast as their injuries allow them. The hulking armour of The Tarnished slows its movements, carefully circling Crom. Pausing the onslaught, the creature instead speaks to the barbarian. It speaks of the death stones, how both are now destroyed, it speaks of the inevitable path they are now set on, that undeath is the only way to survive! Crom responds in short blunt answers, aiming to keep the Tarnished occupied, but he sacrifices his adrenaline for battle as his rage subsides.
Edward stands over the black wax candle as smoke lazily rises toward him. The sound of the impossible rips through the environment as a portal to the Underworlds blemishes the world. Stepping forth through the opening are three of Xarturas's devils. The two duelling soldiers with their swords of ice and fire, and Brogmim the imp, who's skittish flapping of wings pull him out of the reach of the rusted weapons wielded by the shadow cultists. The two devil soldiers immediately maim one of the cultists that flank Edward as dry flesh and dark robes fall. Edward ducks away from the fighting and makes for the stairs as Brogmim follows him closely. Saeval does the same, trying not to think too hard about the devils that now aid them. With everything that's going on, it's just another spice in the cauldron of carnage. Alloria and her panther Vanta are locked in melee with the remaining cultists, now flanking them with the devil soldiers.
Amarion approaches the church ahead of those now fleeing for safety, an armoured shield against the last obstacle ahead. One cultist remains, guarding the opening where one of the doors to the church has been battered down. He pulls something from behind the remaining door, a bruised and beaten woman from the village, and puts a knife to her throat as she struggles against his grip. Amarion slows his approach, but still tries to get within striking distance of the cultist. The blade presses against the flesh of her neck and the fleeing villagers behind Amarion push him to act. As he steps forward a red line is drawn across the woman's throat, and her struggles cease, her body drops. Amarion in righteous fury brings his blade down upon the cultist, cutting the evil figure into ribbons. He hangs his head over the loss of another innocent life, as panicked villagers quickly step over the bodies and into the church. From the stormy clouds above, another distant roar carries on the wind.
Mornington moves quickly from person to person, cutting rope bindings and pulling the people to their feet. Emotional gratitude quickly passes as it turns to fleeing for safety. Now in the graveyard of the church; Edward, Saeval, and even Brogmim, join in freeing villagers. To Edward's discomfort, he hears the vague whisperings of Brogmim to the villagers he frees. Each one looks horrified to see a devil in the flesh, and he knows not what the imp is telling them.
Crom and the Tarnished have circled one another to the point where Crom's back is to his allies, and behind him villagers flee in an almost perfect straight line toward the church. A crackle of energy is seen darting across the emotionless face of this bronze hulk, and light begins emanating from within its mouth. Crom realises what's happening, if the Tarnished unleashes a bolt of lightning, it would not only hit him but his allies as well, killing the villagers as they flee. Crom ducks into a forward roll and tumbles past the Tarnished and swings his Dragon Slayer sword into this living vessel of dragon spirit. Remembering the origin of the Tarnished, of the Dargean, it's no surprise how devastating it is, carving through what was once the body of a bronze dragon. The Tarnished turns as the lightning builds in the mouth of its unmoving visage and unleashes a lightning bolt that strikes Crom, and Crom alone. The taste of metal, the blinding white light, the smell of seared flesh, the last sensations before all fades for Crom.
The sound of lightning rips across the graveyard, echoing from the walls. The charred body of the totem warrior strikes the ground with a thump. Mornington, Edward, and Amarion turn, shouting Crom's name in dismay. Edward launches one of his eldritch blasts at the Tarnished, the purple light smashes across it's giant pauldron. When it clears, it shows no damage to the creature's incredibly strong armour. It turns, and steps menacingly towards the young warlock as a second strikes it in the face to greater success. Mornington throws himself forward, drawing his Coral Scimitar and lunging at the creature in an attempt to overcome its defences. As the Tarnished lifts it's two handed crescent axe torchlight flickers from the crystalline stone set in its head, and a murmuring chant of the arcane is heard nearby. Saeval, hands outstretched in a purposeful configuration, completes his spell and hopes, for the sake of the bard, that it works. The axe swings towards Mornington as he focuses on avoiding a devastating blow. But as it approaches, it suddenly slows and he easily dodges aside. The movements of the Tarnished continue to be sluggish as it tries to wheel and face Mornington, the wizard's spell successfully slowing their adversary to great advantage.
Amarion calls upon the powers of his faith to heal himself as he travels the length of the graveyard to reach the others. There are only a handful of villagers yet to make it to the church, they just need to get Crom, make a final push, and get themselves inside too! As Amarion steps over the rubble of the collapsed archway, more figures join him, approaching from the hillside stairs. The devil soldiers, Alloria, and Vanta all charge forth with him and the Tarnished warrior is outnumbered six to one. This gives Mornington enough relief from the melee to cast healing word, his bardic magic carrying to the smoking body of Crom. A terrible buzzing pain shoots through the barbarian's body as his eyes jolt open, his awareness returning to his tortured frame.
The graveyard is battered with the force of beating wings, and the deafening roar of Karna-Kar rings in the ears of those before him. He lands heavily on the edge of the graveyard, crumbling old stone and splattering mud over the combat at its centre. His claws extend out and snatch the closest villager as others scream as they sprint for the church. The adventurers look on in horror while trying to keep their defences in check. Void Wing brings the helpless villager up towards his mouth, the smell of erosion and decay on his breath. The glowing green of his innards expose as his jaws part, but instead of feasting upon his victim as one might expect, he instead drools an illuminous bile over the man, smothering his screams, and sending his body convulsing. Before the eyes of the heroes they see the villager rapidly change, skin withering, eyes glowing, as they see a painful metamorphosis into a shadow cultist brought under Karna-Kar's will.
The devil soldiers strike at the patinated bronze of the Tarnished, their combined great swords of ice and fire lay havoc to the metal structures of this being. Mornington sees an opportunity and grips his Shawm of Sundering, gifted to him by the Order of Arcanum. He dodges under the swinging arms of the Tarnished as it retaliates, and gets into position behind it, the perfect position to line everything up. He plays a note that resonates the very weaves of magic, and produces a lightning bolt that cracks with furious energy. The Tarnished is the first struck, lightning conducting through its body, light radiating from the gaps in its armour. It then strikes the red skinned devil soldier, then the turned villager still in Karna-Kar's grip, and finally it strikes Karna-Kar. Mornington's vision is filled with a flash of red, of gore, organs, exposed muscle, and other nightmarish images. The very same sensations as when Karna-Kar had struck him with his mutilated tail. Once his vision returns there is a path of destruction before him, the hollow armour of the Tarnished lays scattered on the uneven ground of the graveyard, its spirit core vanquished. The devil soldier is nowhere to be seen, and as Mornington looks around he sees its blue skinned twin is being consumed by a rift to the Underworlds, their time on this plane coming to an end as the magic of Edward's candle has run its course. He looks up at Karna-Kar, the villager's charred body falling from the dragon's grip, and sees the cracked, glowing dent freshly formed in his chest. The dragon drops to all fours in a predatory crouch as his jaws widen in reply, acidic fumes already snaking from between his teeth.
A shape emerges from the shadows of the graveyard as it charges headlong towards the dragon's lowered head. Crom leaps with a roar as he brings his Dragon Bane Greatsword down upon the scaled neck of Void Wing, a satisfying ring of steel sounding as his blade slides from ancient flesh. Karna-Kar hisses in pain and reels his head back, flashes of purple erupt on his body and wing, Edward's eldritch blasts illuminating the imposing size of his wingspan. Wicked talons sweep for the charred flesh of the still fragile barbarian, but is met with the resounding defences of a metal shield, Amarion's shield. The paladin stands firm next to his ally as he protects, deflecting the attacks of the dragon before them. Wounded by the quick succession of attacks from the party, Karna-Kar thrusts his wings and launches himself over them, into the darkness beyond. Gusts of wind batter at their clothing and he glides down the slope of the hill, as an army of undead spirits slowly ascend it.
They all run for the church, and do their best to bar the door once inside. There are maybe twenty villagers inside now, who are understandably panicking at their situation. The party quickly search the church for other exits or defendable positions. Being a church of Erathis, the goddess of knowledge, the church features an extensive archive in its basement. The party ushers everyone below ground, hopefully out of the immediate reach of the dragon circling above. Amarion uses his divine senses to detect holy books in the church's library, then with help from the others, searches for any mentioning of Gaolos. This darker twin of Torog, the god of death, was brought to their attention by Saluna who by now could be any distance east of the village. She made them acutely aware that these dark tidings match this god's dark ways. They find such passages that describe him as a god of punishment, imprisonment, and of undeath. One who traps the souls of those unable to accept their own death, keeping them from reaching the great beyond, keeping them tethered to the Shadowfell. There they slowly lose any memory of self, leaving only an angered, vengeful spirit that envies the living. While many of the texts they find read as warnings to sway the Faith of the Attuned followers into living a moral existence, the party are finding a far more sinister reality to the depictions the priests have recorded. One such passage even theorises over the relationship Gaolos could have with the deities of the Underworlds, one so rich in spirits could exchange them as the devils are known to for hierarchical power.
It's been quiet for several minutes at this point, perhaps Void Wing has retreated to lick his wounds. Regardless, there is still an army of undead outside, so the party decide to use their last scroll of Cat-Nap, an elven trance spell that allows them to become rested and healed in only a few minutes. However, there is only enough magic to allow three of them to benefit, so Mornington foregoes and keeps watch. Not long after Amarion, Crom, and Edward are put into a deep healing sleep, a rumble of weighted footsteps shakes the ground. Mornington wanders up the stone steps from the archive, nervous as he bravely steps forth, alone. Karna-Kar prowls the church, and begins hissing words of terror to frighten all within, playing with his food, and sowing the seeds of doubt. He tells them the joy it brings him to see his enemies of old brought low, tarnished, and bowing before him. They have been instrumental in priming his conquest of this land, and the great capital is next. He will bring dusk to the city and bring all into his horde of the dead. Mornington can now see the glow of Banshees that surround the church as Void Wing's mockery reaches a height of rage. Karna-Kar starts to tear into the church, bringing down walls as he takes flight, the dragon circles and dives into the structure, his powerful claws and tail ripping at the building as desperate screams echo from the archive. Mornington makes a desperate ploy, he runs to the still standing bell tower, and climbs its ladder. Positioned with a full view out to the dark storm surrounding them, he waits for Void Wing to circle around for his next attack. As Mornington sees the outline of the great beast appear in the light of his lantern, he casts forth a Hypnotic pattern. An incredibly intricate matrix of magical lines and patterns flashes up in a wide area around the dragon, should this work, it could daze him for long enough for the others to wake. Karna-Kar's eyes come into sharp focus as he gets ever nearer. His head passes through the pattern set before him, unaffected, and straight towards Mornington.
Mornington's eyes go wide at the realisation his spell has failed him. He drops haphazardly down the ladder moments before the dragon collides, hitting the ground with a thud, and a crunch of bone. Void Wing ploughs through the bell tower, smashing it to pieces as debris and stone fall around the now prone Mornington. The bard clambers to his feet and limps back to the basement archive, soon after the church has fallen, sealing them all within. The now muffled words of the mighty reptile above can be heard among guttural roars and mocking laughter, "The city will suffer! The city will fall! Flesh to be devoured, souls to be bound to my eternal reign!"
The sound of wings beat rhythmically for the final time as Karna-Kar departs, flying east toward the capital city of Spearpoint. With that, a quiet falls upon the cowering crowd gathered in the archive, and the three other heroes awaken. Those able, and those most strong, start to work together to dig themselves out of their entombed position. An hour, maybe two pass before they carve a crawl space just big enough for them to fit through. The party cautiously peers above the rubble that was the church, its grounds are surrounded on all sides by an unmoving army of spirits. Void Shadows and Banshees line the perimeter of the structure that was, but none move for the adventurers.
They fully emerge to the surface, rising to their feet. Brogmim, Saeval, and Alloria follow, ready to defend the villagers below if needed, well the two elves are at least. Confusion sets in as to why the undead are staying put, perhaps they cannot tread on holy ground, perhaps they are only commanded when in the presence of Void Wing. But then something strange happens, as the crowd shifts and two figures float forth, glowing bright with ethereal light. One carries a long bow with flowing hair, while the other wears a misshapen breast plate, and even in his undead form, somehow, the faintest of smirks. Eyes widen in disbelief, some even well with tears as they look upon the spirits of their lost companions, Artax, and Fenris.
A lingering quiet stretches out as they get ever closer, moving into full view. Alloria steps to the front of the pack, her face wracked with emotion as she recognises her kin, recognises her own face in that of her son's. Artax locks eyes with her and his hand reaches out as she carefully does the same, the cold of an unjust afterlife caresses her fingers. His voice like a faint wind tells them that he suffered through many trials after The Battle of Storms, ones that inevitably lead him to imprisonment in the Shadowfell. He could never accept that he had left so much behind, so much yet to learn, so much to resolve. His eyes look down at the face of his mother, who he had travelled from another continent to find. Suddenly, a bright beam of sunlight carves through the darkness above. All but Alloria shield their eyes as Artax's incorporeal body is doused in light and he begins to rise, fading as he does. Sunlight spreads outward, bathing the others in its warm glow, and then just like that, Artax is gone.
Mornington notices something on the Lantern of Judgment he holds in his hand. The symbols of light, of sun, of Pelor, they glow with an intense light. Is this a blessing? A helping hand from benevolent powers beyond? He looks over to Fenris, who is already looking back at him, and the fallen battle master asks one last thing of his companion, of his friend. "Avenge me, please. Before I lose myself to the shadows. Bring down that vile heap of shit they call Void Wing, it's time to end him." Mornington's lantern glows with the intense brightness of summer sun, its light casting far and wide. Fenris fades into the distance as the other undead, their humanity already lost, shriek and flee from the light. Wherever the lantern points the magical darkness is dispelled, opening the hole to the blue sky above, and sunlight sweeps across the hilltop. In a few short emotional moments, a great boon has befallen them all. Now able to clear a path through the undead that swarm the village, they can truly save the lives of the villagers. Save these innocent people from the terrible malevolence of Karna-Kar.
But there are now far greater numbers in need of their help.
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