---

---

Bannor stared at the Burgomaster for a moment, then nodded curtly.

He directed Otto, Zygfrek, and Clovin to collect vegetables (‘yes Master’), and instructed Dmitri to prepare a large cauldron of broth. Then he left the confines of Krezk and went searching for the lethal ingredient he needed.

---

In Vallaki, Viktor offered a final heartfelt prayer for the Abbott, for his son, for all of you — and for Bannor to stay his hand until a solution could be found. Despite the passion in his words, he couldn’t find the connection to the Morninglord he so desperately needed. You all retired for some much needed rest.

Rising early, you found that Ireena had worked long into the night with the townsfolk elders, and they had determined that it would be a week before an excess of food could be delivered to Krezk. It was up to you to get them through that week, whether it be using magic or using old fashioned rationing.

You set out immediately, moving as fast as you could, and trying not to think about what would happen if you were too late.

---

Unfortunately for Bannor — but fortunately for the mongrelfolk — toxic rootstock was hard to find in the barren mountainous terrain. He widened his search, and after several hours found what he needed. Or thought he did — upon his return to Krezk he soon realised it was a lookalike stock, and the search would have to go on.

And after another hour, success. A tangled root of dark hemlock grew amongst a barren rocky outcrop. After carefully preparing it, he added it to the bubbling stew, and let it seep into the broth.

---

You were travelling fast, but not fast enough. An eight hour journey in four, and you were three hours in. Exhaustion set in, but you couldn’t afford to stop. 60 lives depended on it.

---

It was ready. The Burgomaster wrung his hands in anguish, pleading with Bannor to confirm that this was the right thing to do. And Bannor did so, mocking the Krezk leader for his lack of spine and willingness to let others do his dirty work.

Bannor carted the fatal brew back to the Abbey on the back of a wagon, the villagefolk unwilling to assist in any way. Summoning his three helpers, Bannor directed them to start feeding the starving mongrelfolk. There was no hesitation or reflection, just grim determination. These weren’t humans. These were cursed creatures that should never have been given life, abominations created by a corrupt and evil celestial. This was mercy.

With loyal obedience, Zygfrek and Colvin worked around the caged mongrelfolk. The mad ones chained in the courtyard. The cannibals, the worshippers, the dancers, and the shy ones hiding in the fort. The final room was the mothers and children. Their sad eyes looked up hopefully, then joyfully when they saw food for their little ones.

As they ate, sounds of anguish and retching were coming from the earlier rooms — the poison was taking effect. Bannor walked back outside and told Zygfrek and Otto it was their turn to eat, and they dived into the remains with abandon. Clovin went to join them, but Bannor held him back, telling him that his food was in the village below. Clovin was confused but obeyed, though he wouldn’t go down to the village without Bannor.

The Burgomaster met Bannor outside the house, fear in his eyes at the sight of Clovin — had something gone wrong? But Bannor told him it was done — he had spared Clovin as one of the few who appeared capable of independent thought. He ordered Dmitri to feed and care for Clovin, then returned to the Abbey to finish up.

Most everything was dead. The few that still struggled had their throats swiftly cut. The only two Bannor spared were Otto and Zygfrek, who he found writing in pain in the courtyard. He dragged them to their guardhouse chambers, and returned to the village.

He told the Burgomaster the two other survivors were also now citizens of Krezk, and if they came to any harm, so too would those that caused it. And the town needed to clean up the Abbey, soon. The Burgomaster agreed, and, unable to meet Bannor’s eyes, meekly suggested it might be better if Bannor left, and left immediately.

Bannor looked at the pathetic leader, not even strong enough to offer food and shelter, and walked out of Krezk, hopefully never to return.

---

You were approaching the footsteps of the climb to Krezk when you saw it. A plume of dark black smoke rose high into the overcast sky, it’s source seemingly your destination.

And then you noticed a lonely figure walking toward you, face set in a thousand yard stare, eyes unreadable. It was Bannor.

There was silence as you stood facing each other, one man and five. Bannor looked at each of you in turn, then spoke then fateful words: “They’re all dead.”

Viktor collapsed to his knees on the path. Zane cursed and turned away, and Xarann struggled to breathe, memories of his past flooding back.

Short words were had, Bannor saying he understood if it was over. Three mongrelfolk remained. He was going to the Vineyard, and then to Vallaki. Silence. Despair. Viktor stood and, facing away from Bannor, quietly told him it wasn’t over. Not yet. “Wait for us at the winery — our work in this land isn’t done.”

Bannor walked away, and you pressed on to Krezk.

---

At the gatehouse, they refused to let you enter, under the Burgomaster’s orders. Viktor scoffed at this, popped his wings, and flew inside. This was enough to put the fear of gods into the guards, who soon after let the rest of you inside too.

Viktor healed Zygfrek and Otto, and you all met in the courtyard of the Abbey. What had been a bonfire of bodies was now a smouldering mess. The Burgomaster and a few tonwsfolk looked on, faces impassive. Viktor repeated the threats Bannor had made, almost physically assaulting the Burgomaster with his furious words. “We can’t burn our sins away.”

You spent the night in the Abbey, scarcely believing what had happened. First slaying an Angel, now slaughtering innocents. What had this land done to you?

---

In the early morning you reconvened with Bannor at the vineyard. The Martikov’s were overjoyed to see you, and gave you the glad news that the vines were once again growing thanks to your intervention. Davian also quietly reminded you there was one gem remaining, somewhere.

As you pored over the map to plan your assault on Berez, a lake to the North caught your eye. When you asked what was marked there, Davian told you it was known as Van Richten’s Tower, abandoned now but once a source of great power. Your interest was piqued — a diversion there couldn’t hurt. Could it?

---

---

And so you set off North instead of East, and after some hours emerged out into a wide open lake, covered in a fine fog. A muddy causeway led to a circular tower, with a Vistani wagon pulled up alongside. The wagon appeared to be empty, no answer coming from your knocking.

Cautiously you approached the stone tower. The structure was very old, and a rickety scaffold on one side led to a crack in the stonework three stories up. The door to the tower was solid metal with no hinges, and a complex set of symbols was etched into a metal plate set into the door. Carved into the lintel was a single word: “KHAZAN”

---

Solving the symbol puzzle seemed too hard, given the scaffold. Bannor studied it for a moment and determined it was mostly safe, as long as care was taken. He scaled it to the second floor, but as he made his way up the next section, he slipped and the entire structure collapsed to the ground, taking Bannor and Viktor (who was bracing the formwork below) with it.

Bannor was mortified. Zandeyr smiled knowingly and took a grapple from his bag, tossing it up — and missing badly. Zane stepped up and showed him how it was done, a flourish in his grapple spin doing the trick. He scurried up the rope to the opening above.

---

Inside was an empty room, with floorboards that would collapse with the slightest provocation. In the centre of the room there were four metal chains leading from the ceiling to the floor, each one on the corner of a metal lined hole in the middle of the floor.

Zane made some mental calculations, abandoned them, and leapt for the nearest chain. He made it. Next he worked his way down to the room below, which was identical. He continued down and stopped when he saw the ground floor below. Standing at each chain was a large stone statue, with massive hands surrounding each chain. On the floor of the room a small metal plate sat between the chains.

Zane shimmied down and stood on the platform. Which started to rise — some kind of elevator!

---

Zandeyr meanwhile had clambered up to the chamber, and he watched with amazement as Zane’s head (followed by the rest of him) rose through the floor as if levitating. Zane encouraged Zandeyr to leap across, which he also did, though the platform stopped as the extra weight plonked down on it.

Acting on a hunch, Zandeyr yelled out ‘rise’, and low and behold the platform started upward again.

The room above was different to the rest, showing signs of recent residence. A fireplace, neatly made bed, a desk, and suit of dark plate armour. And a chest. While Zane started exploring, Zandeyr took the elevator down to the ground floor and let the rest of you inside. As he went down, he noticed the grapple was gone.

Outside he found Bannor in even worse shape — he’d tried to climb the grapple rope only to somehow pull it free and fall to the ground once again. The rest of you started to think that karma was catching up with your wayward thief.

---

---

You rode the elevator up and emerged into the living floor, finding Zane reclining on the bed in a quite suggestive pose. The desk had some badly burnt pages of a journal, and you found the remains of more in the (cold) fire. Someone had obviously tried to piece together what they could, but nothing here was of use.

Bannor checked the chest next, finding it untrapped and, strangely, unlocked. It also had an aroma of lavender. He opened it carefully, and recoiled when he saw what was inside: the preserved head of a Vistani male. Recovering from his shock, he passed the head to Zandeyr, who with Viktor decided it had been embalmed, though it was hard to determine how long ago.

Bannor studied the chest further. He was rewarded with the discovery of a false bottom, and inside that there was a beautifully crafted masterwork silver dagger.

Viktor cast a check on the dagger for magical properties, but was surprised to find his spell doing nothing. Xarann tried a quick magical light, and found the same thing. Something was stopping magic from casting in the tower.

Zandeyr ventured the idea that maybe this ‘Khazan’ was behind this — but as soon as he spoke the name, the suit of armour sprung into life. The fight was quick, the armour smashed into component parts on the floor. It seems not all magic is shut down.

You decided that resting here for the night was the best course of action. But first you thought that due diligence on the wagon was required — no point in getting surprised in the middle of the night. A quick check, then bed.

---

---

You stood around the wagon, with Zandeyr holding the tower door open. Bannor ran some quick checks on the door, deciding that it wasn’t trapped, and he quickly unlocked the bolt. He did another trap check for good measure, but he was confident it was clear.

Afterwards you thought that Bannor’s failure was perhaps due to the relative safety you’d found in the tower, or the unlocked chest, or maybe it was the curse of the mongrelfolk. Whatever the cause, it was a bad one to miss.

Bannor reached up and slowly opened the wagon door. As he pulled it open, he saw his mistake.

A small string run from the inner door handle to the ceiling of the wagon. Hanging from the now snapped rope was a small vial of dark red liquid. It fell in slow motion toward the floor, which was covered with hundreds of similar vials.

The explosion echoed across the lake and into the surrounding mountains. You were all flung through the air, breath knocked from your lungs, skin burning, searing pain beyond belief. Even Zandeyr, half sheltered, was knocked down by the enormous wave of fire and scorching heat.

Bannor, bearing the brunt, was smashed into the tower, and fell lifeless to the ground.

---

Viktor, suffering terrible, hauled himself over to the fallen thief. He could see Bannor fading before his eyes, the lifeforce almost gone. He croaked out a few desperate words of prayer, asking for mercy, mercy, mercy.

Don’t let him die.

Not here.

---

---

Session played: 13 January 2020