Adventurers
- Harlin Winklevos (Fighter 3)
- Mandras (Thief 5)
- Rafin Falskax (Cleric 1)
- Tyrion (Elf 1)
Ancient bones lying smashed around them, the party searched around for secret doors. Sure enough, one corner wall sank into the ground to reveal a laboratory with a figure slouched at a desk. Warily approaching it and determining it to be long-dead, they snatched up several gold objects laid out before it and a book titled: ‘Ye Secrets of Ye Philosopher’s Stone’. Mandras also pocketed a reddish pebble clutched in the skeleton’s hand.
The party found little else of interest in the villa basement, and decided to travel back to Ximes to deposit their treasures. They found a blacksmith to break open their little metal box and reveal a ring. Deciding this ring and the rot grubbed corpse’s armour needed identifying, they all set off once more for the Tower of Sylaire.
En route, they bumped into the same woman they had seen a few weeks ago gazing at the town of Perigon across the river. This time the adventurers were more forthcoming with information, acknowledging that their presence in the Sunken Temple coincided with the emergence of a quickly-growing desert. They acknowledged that they wished to return home, but couldn’t make the journey just yet, struggling for time. She introduced herself as Moriamis, and said that if time were the main issue, she might be able to help with that. Before that, though, she asked that the party look for a number of missing folk from across the region. They had little in common except for all having had dealings with the Duke of Ximes shortly before their disappearance. She requested that the party rescue or recover these poor souls, and warned them to be wary of the Duke himself.
After she had helped identify the magical properties of the ring and armour in a gesture of goodwill, and in exchange for Mandras’ interesting red pebble, she departed, and the adventurers decided to head out of the forest to settle down for the night rather than push on for Ximes before nightfall. Their sleep was interrupted, however, by a trio of men approaching their camp, ignoring the mercenary guards’ warnings. Tyrion spied three more forms loitering in the darkness and warned his companions, just as the mercenaries’ arrows thudded into the first group. Utterly unharmed, the men charged forward, fur rippling down their limbs and faces elongating into wolf-like visages.
With only the adventurers’ weapons able to harm the beasts at all, they ordered the mercenaries to hold off the second wave of werewolves while they dealt with the vanguard. Rafin unfurled the scroll they’d picked up from the villa and froze one of the creatures from each group, their momentum sending them toppling forward as their bodies locked up. The rest of the lycanthropes cut through the hired fighters who could do little but try and fend off their blows, but Rarder had been paying them very well over the last few months, and their heightened morale kept them in the fight.
Eventually the adventurers slew the four active werewolves, slit the throat of one of the Held pair, and then pondered what to do with the last Held one.