---

The company set out from Dougan’s Hole, revelling in the open landscape (and the relief of leaving the disquiet of the township behind). Arlington followed the shoreline of the frozen Redwaters until reaching the mouth of the Redrun River. From there the river offered a secure path toward Ten Trail. True darkness had well and truly fallen upon reaching Arlington’s intended short-cut through the wilderness, so he called a halt and turned to Tarquin with a nod.

Tarquin grinned and made quite a show to conjure his promised hut, which was indeed tiny — just large enough to fit everyone snugly inside. Arlington was pleasantly surprised with Tarquin’s sartorial choices, the structure being remarkably suitable for the far north: closely resembling a carefully constructed igloo, comfortable (but no more than that), with furs to furnish the warmth, and simply provisioned for an explorer’s party. The animals were staked outside, guards set, and everyone fell into a surprisingly peaceful night of rest.

---

Three days of hard slog later — days which included a few scraps with wolves and crag-cats, but no owlbear thankfully — Arlington called for refreshments at the entrance of a narrow valley. He judged the fallen comet lay not far ahead, and a full stomach was always preferred when approaching the unknown. The bitter cold and falling snow notwithstanding.

“Eearwaxx can you send your owl ahead to scout?” Octavian asked politely. Eearwaxx nodded and sent Horseradish to the air with a command to look for anything unusual. The snowy owl hooted softly and flew down the valley. After only a few minutes Eearwaxx nearly fell over as he felt a wave of sheer terror from Horseradish and a screech of panic that echoed around the valley. Eearwaxx started pounding through the snow then skidded to a halt as Horseradish shot into view and hurtled into the safety of the young wizard’s arms.

Tarquin and Octavian heard if first: slow, beating wings, high overhead, coming from the direction Horseradish had just abandoned. “Dragon!” Octavian cried, “Take cover!”

Everyone could hear the sound now, diving for cover behind trees and rocks, and moments later a massive darkiron-coloured dragon swooped overhead, skimming the treetops. Octavian watched in wonder, noticing what little sunlight there was glinting off the scaled beast. There was something not quite right about it - the scales looked more like armour panels, massive slabs of black metallic metal — or ice? With a flash of insight he knew beyond doubt what it was: chardalyn. This was no ordinary dragon, it was a construct! “The duergar — they’ve done it, they’ve built a dragon!!” he yelled.

Morgan glared up as the dragon roared past, watching the glowing yellow eyes that seemed to pulse with each beat of it’s oily black wings. The light from its eyes seemed to also be leaking from between the armour plates, as if there was something powering the beast from within. The dragon swung around and landed with a crunch atop a pillar of rock. Eearwaxx had thought it might be an illusion, but the disturbed snow from its perch betrayed that notion. It was real, or one of the most staggering illusions in the history of illusions. With each breath the flame from within the dragon glowed and faded.

---

The dragon slowly craned it’s head around to survey the landscape. It’s gaze swept past the huddled group paying no mind — or not seeing at all, Arlington mused. Tarquin had blessed him with a burst of heroism, which caused him to train his crossbow on the beast and ponder. His finger itched on the trigger. He lined up the shot: through the plating and into that beating core. An easy one-shot. He felt a surge of adrenalin and started to squeeze…just as the heroism faded. Arlington gasped and wondered what on earth he was doing.

A few moments later the beast took to the air, flying away at a leisurely pace to the east. “Well. We should proceed with caution,” Arlington said confidently.

“I will say, it didn’t seem to perceive us,” Octavian said. “Which suggests that maybe it’s not intelligent — that it is being piloted? Or was it just an automaton, programmed to do reconnaissance.” The question raced through his mind, but there was no way of knowing.

“Or maybe it doesn’t bother with groups of less than twenty,” Tarquin quipped. “And it’s a little more effective than a ‘beware the dragon’ sign. If it was just a random circuit you wouldn’t need an actual dragon, the sign alone would work.”

“This fits all the evidence we have,” Octavian recounted, “That the duergar were harvesting chardalyn to build something. They told us they would take over the Ten Towns on dragon’s wings, and had a map showing a route which we thought might be a tunnel, because how could they have a dragon? Well now we know: they have a dragon.”

“And it being a construct would explain why it would need a route,” Arlington nodded.

“Yes, because it’s almost like a golem.”

“Eearwaxx, did your bird see anything down there before the dragon?” Arlington asked.

“I don’t think so — Horseradish?”

“A dragon.” Eearwaxx nodded and gave Horseradish a scratch.

“Let’s go, and quickly, because if we’re going to have any kind of advantage right now might be the time,” Octavian urged. Everyone agreed, and agreed also to leave the animals tethered in a copse of trees and relative safety at the top of the snow filled valley. Octavian instructed the wolves to keep the Axebeaks safe, and Tarquin sung a new verse as he fastened Jory:

---

It was slow going without the animals, but after an hour of heavy trudging the company arrived at a buttress rising twenty feet above the snow-covered plain ahead. A snow covered plain upon which lay something not of this world.

---

An eerie glow betrayed the monstrous outline of something stupendous and ominous. It looked like a massive nautilus shell with slimy, ropey tentacles as thick as tree trunks that has tried and failed to bury its immense bulk in the snow.

It made no sense — was it a boat? A ship of some kind? Tarquin stood open mouthed as he pondered it. There was a massive furrow in the snow behind the object that led to its final resting spot. “That wasn’t a beast burying itself,” he declared, “That trail of destruction means it crashed out of the sky.”

Arlington nodded, observing that the craft was badly damaged, though still mostly intact. There was no sign that the dragon had been here, no trails of signs of landing. Arlington knelt down and dug his hand into the snow, searching for the inhabitants of the plain ahead with his primal awareness. Fey, and…aberrations. He raised an eyebrow.

“I remember how Stormwatch rode dragons and flying castles to victory,” Tarquin said. “One way to fight a dragon is to fly like a dragon — and that thing might still be able to fly. Let’s get down there.” Morgan nodded in agreement and scrambled down the drop, followed by everyone else.

“I should mention: aberrations ahead,” Arlington said matter-of-factly. Morgan groaned but pressed on through the hip deep snow. He hadn’t moved far when he suddenly stopped as he heard the sound of something slicing through the snow. Something big was ploughing through the deep snow, heading in Morgan’s direction. Only its shiny dorsal ridge broke the snow’s surface. “Incoming!” Morgan yelled as he braced himself.

The creature burst from the snow with a roar, a horrible melange of armadillo, turtle, and mole, and crashed down atop Morgan. Morgan used his shield to blunt the impact of the blow, staggering back but staying on his feet. Morgan missed with both his retaliatory blows, but did manage to call Ezra into the fight.

---

Arlington marked the beast and unleashed two bolts, both pinging harmlessly off the creature’s hard shell. “Oh dear,” he muttered, knowing he had shot true. Jankx had no more luck, his bolt also bouncing off. Octavian observed this with concern and decided to not play games, a storm of lightning leaping from the sky above the creature. Jankx flinched as he recalled the chaos of the Elven Tomb, but he was pleased to see the chitinous shell of the creature crack and blacken under the assault.

Eearwaxx stepped forward and pointed a flaming finger at the creature. “Fuck off,” he said smartly, sending a terrifying vision of metallic dragons into the beasts tiny mind. The creature wailed and tried to plunge itself under the snow and head toward Jankx, twisting and swiping at Eearwaxx’s imagined foe. Morgan wasn’t going to let it escape, pinning it with a swordstrike to the belly. “Thanks!” Jankx yelled, bringing a nod from both Morgan and Ezra. Arlington took advantage of its newly exposed flank, burying a bolt in the softer skin.

The massive beast roared with fear and confusion, slicing Morgan wildly with its sharpened jaw. Octavian called the storm off, worried about his companions, and tried a guiding bolt that fell short, but lit the way for Morgan. He plunged his sword again, ripping flesh with two vicious blows of the sanguine blade. He felt the satisfaction — and healing — of taken blood flood through him.

The beast had nothing left, still trying desperately to burrow away from Eearwaxx. Eearwaxx smirked, considering how to finish it. Last time he tried Toll the Dead it didn’t toll, so he dropped an exploding sphere on the creature. It let out a final wail of pain and disappointment as it seemed to melt under the flaming death.

“A bulette, if I’m not mistaken,” Octavian said as Arlington sawed off a fin, “Also known as a land-shark.” Tarquin nodded — he’d heard tell of land-sharks, and now he knew the ‘real’ name.

---

After a short Tarquin-fuelled recovery, the company advanced to the crash site. The shell lay half-buried in the snow, a low deck lying five feet above ground level, an ice-covered ballista mounted atop. Above that deck were two more, each twenty feet higher. Tentacles lay sprawled in front of the deck, rubbery, glistening tendrils as thick as tree-trunk lying inert on the ground. They were covered with mucus, still slimy despite the cold. The ship was constructed of a mixture of organic, chitinous scales mixed with iron panels and wood.

---

“I don’t think this is Druidic,” Tarquin said to Octavian, seeing how otherworldly it looked. He had thought it might be related to the druidic experimentation in the Sunless Citadel, but this was too different. “Whatever it is, it’s not from ‘round here.”

“I agree,” Octavian said, agreeing that this thing seemed extra-terrestrial. As a student of the natural world, this presented a fascinating opportunity. He knelt by one of the twenty-foot long tentacles, Jankx standing close behind with drawn short sword, and reached out gingerly to touch it. He immediately knew it was mucous, not oil or the like, that covered the tendril. And he sensed life. “This is alive,” he said to warn the others. Arlington instincively pulled his sword. “Don’t touch it!” Octavian cried, “I’m not sure how, but there is intelligence. I don’t think it’s a ship, I think it’s a creature. It’s lost it’s energy, but it’s alive and it can think. Don’t harm it,” he stressed. “Maybe we can communicate.”

“It’s a giant snail, that’s what you’re saying?” Arlington scoffed.

“I think people can go inside it,” Octavian said, nodding to the shell.

“Gentlemen, this is a ship,” Tarquin said smiling with delight. He had circled the vessel and studied the snow furrow. “And I would guess this has been here for a week at most, which matches our séance attendees claims.”

Octavian saw glyphs embossed on the hull of the ship. “I agree, this is a ship — and it’s got a name,” he said, hovering. He tried to understand the icons, but it was undecipherable. No-one could make sense of it, and Tarquin made sure to copy the letterforms into his journal.

Morgan glanced at Arlington for approval, then hauled himself onto the deck. At the back of the deck, a double door made of chitin and iron was tucked under the two higher decks. Arlington cocked his crossbow and nodded to Jankx, who checked the door. It was iron and chiton, but seemed to be sealed with a gelatinous substance. “I don’t think it’s trapped, but it is very strange so I can’t be sure.”

“The seal is to keep water out, or air in,” Eearwaxx said. “Maybe for underwater, or in the sky. I don’t think it’s dangerous.”

Jankx took a deep breath, then slid his knife down the seal to slice it open. It sealed up almost immediately as his blade traced through. He shrugged and looked to Morgan who moved to haul the doors open.

Before he could, Eearwaxx stepped forward. “Could you please step back — you may damage the door and I have a way to open it.” The wizard flipped through his spellbook and muttered a few quick words. The doors slid open with a quiet hiss. Tarquin grinned and clapped Eearwaxx on the back.

A chamber lay ahead. Attached to the walls were chains and manacles designed to hold large creatures. A staircase rose to the deck above amid crates, barrels, and broken bits of equipment. Fleshy, flickering, bioluminescent orbs mounted to the walls and hanging from the ceiling dimly lit the room.

Moving among the detritus were four creatures. Three of them were small, repulsive, purple things that floated above the ground and pulled themselves across the floor using oversized face-tentacles. The fourth was a lumbering monstrosity made of stitched-together parts from goblins, dwarves, and reindeer.

---

---

When the small creatures caught sight of Morgan and Jankx, they all shrank back into a corner and everyone was overcome with an emotional blast that said: fear, afraid, scared. The big flesh giant on the other hand, groaned a guttural howl and lumbered forward.

Tarquin whispered some dissonant discouragement at the monstrosity. “You evil, stitched together, worthless lump of shit,” he hissed. He wasn’t sure the thing would be smart enough to understand, but was pleased to find it obviously did when it reeled away from the door and stared to retreat, batting at imagined enemies. Tarquin grinned and inspired his companions to finish the job. Jankx sunk a bolt into the defenceless golem’s back. Arlington tried to follow suit but instead sliced his thumb open as the badly placed bolt shattered in crossbow housing. He couldn’t believe it - he hadn’t misfired that badly since those first days of training from his father. He could still feel the blow on the back of his head which had taught him not to do it again.

Morgan couldn’t reach the creature, but Ezra could. Or rather, he could if he hadn’t fumbled his weapon as he tried to slice it down. Through Ezra’s eyes Morgan could see four fleshy doors lay at the back of the compartment enclosing small rooms. Eearwaxx and Ocavian together sent radiant bolts into the creature drawing a long moan of pain. It started to rock back and forward, raging blindly, disintegrating Ezra with a wild swing but missing Morgan. The squidlings cowered further into their corner as everyone entered the room, leaving black splodges on the ground as they moved.

Tarquin was preparing to attack when he heard footsteps cluttering down the stairway from the deck overhead. A small figure raced down the steps and pulled to a stop as it surveyed the new arrivals and terrified squidlings. It had a bulbous head covered with purple tentacles, large intelligent eyes, and a very handsome gown.

---

“What is going on! Stop this immediately!” it cried in Undercommon, waving threateningly a hand crossbow-like metal tube that glowed with magical energy. Only Octavian understood the words, and he immediately recognised the creature as a mind-flayer of some kind — though it was squat, only slightly taller than Octavian himself. Octavian knew this meant big trouble if not handled right, so he raised his hands in peace.

The creature nodded and turned to the golem. “Stand down,” it commanded, “Leave them be.” The creature, who had its fist poised to thump Morgan, dropped its arms to the side and stood near motionless, swaying slightly and groaning softly. As calm settled on the room the three miniature version of the mind-flayer rushed over to cluster safely under its cloak.

Octavian looked around. “This creature, this mind-flayer–” he said with a warning emphasis, “– has ordered the golem not to attack.” He turned back to the creature, speaking in Common. “Can you understand me?”

It replied in broken Common, mixed with Undercommon, so everyone could understand. “Yes of course I can. Explain yourself — why did you attack my creation?”

“It attacked us,” Octavian said defensively.

“I am sorry about that. Though I’m sure it was only defending the squidlings as ordered,” it said sternly. “And you obviously broke in. So take my apologies but also take this as a warning.”

“Well we found this ship—”

“—and you broke in.”

Octavian sighed. “And we were investigating as to why it was here and if we could help. We had never seen such a ship.”

“We were looking for survivors,” Arlington added.

“No need for excuses, it’s plain what happened. I think you can accept that your actions were irrational and the golem’s reaction rational. I’m glad that’s settled. Now, how can you help us?”

“Wait a second,” Octavian said, irked. “That thing has been stitched together from objects and creatures we know. That is a gnome face in its chest!”

“Yes? And? We made it.”

“You just grab gnomes and stich them together,” Octavian said incredulously.

“Doesn’t everyone?” the mind-flayer said, just as incredulous at the idea anyone would be incredulous.

“No! No-one does!”

“Well we do. Everyone we know does.”

“Did the gnome say yes?!” Octavian said, refusing to take this lying down.

“No, we ate its brain. And the dwarf’s. And deer’s. And then we made this.”

Octavian was finally speechless. He backed away from the creature.

Eearwaxx took up the reigns. “Why are you here, in this land?”

The flayer scratched it’s large head. “We crashed, most unexpected” it said, almost but not quite sheepishly. “We detected a powerful source of magic and descended to investigate and before we knew it we lost control. An unbelievable snowstorm downed us. Though that doesn’t explain why we lost control—” the creature tailed off as it considered this.

“Sir we came here because something had crashed here—”

“—yes, us, clearly.”

“A meteor, we thought. But we now know it was you. What do you need to leave?” Eearwaxx asked.

“Oh well it’s interesting you should ask. My name is Dredavex Sinfiz — why don’t you come upstairs and we can consult with my colleague Vorryn Q’uuol,” it said turning. Eearwaxx introduced himself then started to follow.

“Wait, wait!” Octavian cried, still somewhat traumatised. “Is that what you said to the gnome before you sucked their brains out?”

Dredavex paused as if to consider this, then shook its head. “No, we’ll leave your brains alone — if you can help us. If you can’t, maybe we’ll take them?” There was no threat in its voice, just facts. It continued up the stairway.

“We’ll try,” Eearwaxx agreed. Octavian groaned, glancing at Arlington to let him know he was ready should a tentacle even inched toward Eearwaxx. “Which city are you from?” he asked, curious despite himself.

“No city. We travel the Astral Plane.”

Octavian gasped, mind spinning. This confirmed what everyone has suspected — this vessel and these creatures were not of this world. The Astral Plane was the space between everything, the road that goes everywhere, connecting all Planes of existence in an infinite sea. If you were ever nowhere in the multiverse, you were in the Astral Plane, thought and reality there as close as they get.

“It is wondrous to have visitors from the Astral Sea here,” Tarquin said slowly. “We don’t often see such things.”

“We try not to be. Seen,” the mind-flayer said. “People react in odd ways.”

“But I note your ship has weapons.”

“It does.”

“And you were investigating an anomoly — we saw such a thing only recently,” Tarquin said.

“Did you now? What form did it take?” Dredavex stopped, genuinely interested.

“A dragon, sheathed in—”

“Oh, no, that is nothing,” the flayer said with disappointment. “We don’t collect dragons.”

“What do you collect?” Arlington asked.

“Well we had a Bulette, but we had to let it go once we crashed. Shame, we were looking forward to improving it.”

“We killed it,” Octavian muttered.

“That’s a bit of a waste.”

“It attacked us!” Octavian cried for the second time.

“Just like the golem?” Dredavex said, showing a hint of humour for the first time. Octavian scowled.

“And what race are you, sir?” Eearwaxx asked as everyone climbed.

“I was a gnome, and ascended to a ceremorph when I was implanted,” Dredavex said as if this made perfect sense. The next deck was open to the sky, with a large button-covered ballista mounted on the deck, covered in softly flashing lights. Dredavex didn’t pause, continuing upward.

The top deck was obviously the bridge. Suspended from the ceiling of the high-domed chamber was a complex lattice of bioluminescent jellyfish that use the glowing tips of their tendrils to form constellations. A panel on the starboard wall lay open, exposing a pulsing tendril of flesh embedded with crystal shards. Strapped to a high-backed chair tilted to the ceiling was another of the ceremorphs.

Everyone stared at the frankly amazing ceiling display. Octavian recognised it as a living map of the heavens, and more. It reminded Arlington of a mobile he was fond that hung above his crib as a baby.

“This is Vorryn. He’s too busy to talk, but I can converse with him.” A micro-moment later Dredavex nodded. “He agrees — we won’t take your brains. The Id Ascendant thinks that’s sensible too.”

“Id Ascendant?” Octavian asked weakly,

“The ship of course,” Dredavex said tersely, before elaborating on their predicament. “After we crashed we realised we needed a new power source to jumpstart our propulsion system — ours was too badly damaged.”

Everyone looked blank at this explanation, turning to Octavian for interpretation, who did his best to make sense of it. Dredavex waited patiently then continued.

“We sent out a distress call but no-one answered—”

“—was this distress call psychic?” Eearwaxx interrupted thinking of the séance sufferers, and Dredavex nodded.

“As I said, no-one responded. So instead we jury-rigged a scanner that found a source of energy to nearby to the east. Our captain, F’yorl Flori, set out to find it but hasn’t returned. We estimate we have two more days of life support before the ship self-destructs. Before he went silent we received a message from F’yorl: he was captured by some accursed duergar. You wouldn’t know it, but our kind have a long unpleasant history with duergar.”

“So do we!” Eearwaxx blurted.

“I think ours is worse. Have you heard of Deep Duerra? A duergar deity, or so she claims, Her priests are devoted to finding and annihilating mind flayer colonies or turning mind flayers into their thralls. Nasty business.”

“We all hate duergar,” Octavian spat.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Tarquin said wisely.

“What is the energy you seek?” Octavian asked. “Does it have a common name?”

“There are a number of things that would suit. What we normally use is a psi-crystal, have you heard of that? No? I could show you one downstairs but it’s burnt out. I think if you find where F’yorl is being held the power source we detected will be obvious enough.”

“How far away is this place?” Arlington asked.

“Twenty miles, or thereabouts.”

“Have you ever heard of a city called Ythryn?” Octavian asked innocently.

“Ythryn? Ythryn Ythryn Ythryn,” Dredavex said rolling the sound on his tongue. “Let me consult.” Barely a pause, then: “We think it is Netherese.”

“Yes! Netherese!” Octavian said.

“Very interesting. That is civilisation we have not heard of in a long time.”

“It crashed, here, some time ago,” Eearwaxx said.

“Here? Like us?!” Dredavex was genuinely surprised, and even Vorryn turned his head. “Fascinating.”

“It seems more than coincidence that you’ve crossed our paths and we’ve crossed yours,” Tarquin said.

“And more than coincidence that two advanced civilisations would crash to the earth here unexpectedly. Something more is afoot it would seem,” Dredavex pondered.

“What caused your crash?” Arlington asked.

“You said it was the storm,” Eearwaxx answered.

“I did. But now I wonder. A storm should not powerful enough to influence our navigation systems. Nor Ythryn’s.”

“Sir, like you, we have been investigating the strange comings and goings that have been happening in this area,” Tarquin soliloquised. “We are adventurers. Fact that you have been brought down by mysterious forces here fits with the greater mysteries we have been encountering as we travel these lands.”

“You are saying that there are is a bigger story at play,” Dredavex said with a raised eyebrow in voice if not reality.

“Perhaps. Perhaps it is fortuitous that we should cross paths — strange though you are to us. Perhaps we should form some sort of…arrangement. One where we seek to help you, in return for which you may be able to help us in our battle with the duergar and their druid allies.”

Dredavex leaned forward. “Consider us interested. You find us the power for this ship, and what would you ask in return? Beyond keeping your brains, of course.”

“That we accompany you. In this ship…to Ythryn!”

Dredavex smiled, which was vaguely terrifying. “Do you know where it is?”

“Yes,” Octavian said firmly, despite knowing the truth was rather less firm.

“Very well. We will fly you to this city, once you bring us the power to do so. We have a deal.”

---

Session played: Dec 19 2022

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