“She’s a devil,” Eli growled, staring at the eight-foot red-skinned woman with folder leathery wings. The company stood in a steamy jungle staring down at an encampment on the shores of a river of bubbling lava. It was uncomfortably hot. Eli looked over at Uthar, recalling Mordenkainen’s comparison. They both had red skin but that’s where the similarities ended.

“Remember what Mordenkainen said,” Idris whispered. “The lesser evil.”

“He also said Klax wasn’t evil, but she’s a devil!” Eli hissed. “Brother Cooper, is that even possible?”

“I wouldn’t have thought so,” Three conceded. “But maybe she’s just someone that wants to make money.”

“You coming down or staying ‘hidden’ up there,” the woman said, turning and staring directly at the company. “Mordenkainen said you’d be coming.”

Idris stood with a smirk. “Lady Klax, I presume?”

“Just Klax.”

Idris gave a short nod and the company descended into the clearing. A dozen workers of various race were loading goods into a thirty-foot dragon-turtle shaped wooden boat with an iron-plated hull that rested in the lava stream. Inexplicably it wasn’t alight. “Powerful magics,” Eli muttered.

“I am not your friend, nor Mordenkainen’s, but I’ve learnt that it’s best not to cross him so I will do him this favour. What is it you want to know and where is it you want to go?”

A red-skinned red-leather-winged devil holding a gnarled spear snarls

Klax

“I’ve got my own boat,” Marko declared, “Why do we need yours?”

Klax scoffed. “Because your boat will burn up in an instant. But you’re welcome to try—then my business is done.”

Idris stared at Klas with a tired look. “We seek the sword of Kas,” he sent into her mind, not wanting this intent declared publicly.

“Don’t do that,” Klax scowled.

“And yet that is what we need to do,” Idris said, this time aloud.

“I mean do not speak to me in my head. It is rude.”

“Ah. Apologies,” Idris nodded.

“And I don’t care what you’re looking for, and I don’t know what this ‘sword’ your speak of is.”

“It’s in Brimstone Hold, so that’s where we need to go.”

“Finally some sense.” Klax thumbed the boat. “That is going to the Hold so, getting to the point, I suppose you want me to get you inside?”

“That would be ideal,” Three confirmed. “Will it get searched when we get there?”

“Of course. It’s prison, they don’t let just anyone walk in.”

“We need a method of ingress and possibly egress,” Idris explained.

Klax nodded. “There are two ways to do it—three if you can fly. You can come with me on the boat, act as my crew.” She looked at the company’s bristling weaponry and armour. “That will all have to go if we do it that way.”

“What’s option two?” Idris said.

“You can waltz up the grand entrance to the Hold. A bridge that crosses the narrowest point of the river. Bluff your way in.” She looked to Uthar. “With that skin you might pass as a guard or some such.”

“Is everything red over there?” Eli asked.

“Pretty much,” Klax confirmed.

Marko muttered something under his breath, and a moment later he was standing taller next to Uthar, his skin just as crimson-hued.

Klax raised an eyebrow. “Well now you have two guards.”

“The third option is you can fly your way in. I wouldn’t advise it; there’s a red dragon that patrols the Hold. Small, but even a small dragon is a problem.” Klax walked over to a small desk and picked up a leather scroll. “This is a map of the Hold, above ground at least.”

A hand-drawn map of a fortress bordered by a river of lava. It shows docks, a prison yard, stone walls, and a lava-filled harbour. Arrows indicate passages below the hold at various spot

Brimstone Hold

Klax pointed out various features on the map. “The harbour to the north is where we come in via boat. The walkway to the south is the prisoner entrance.”

“Let’s go on the boat,” Marko declared. He didn’t like the chances of a false-prisoner trick.

“If we came in with you as your crew, what are our options from there?” Idris asked.

“You’d help me unload at the docks and you’re own your own after that.”

“Are there options to secrete ourselves at that point?”

“Only the stores,” Klax pointed to four small outbuildings. “But I don’t like your chances of getting to them without Kalimrax spotting you.”

“Kalimrax?” Eli asked.

“The dragon.”

“Oh. And the stores don’t have access at the dock level?”

“No. There are ladders leading to the upper platform, and three cranes.”

“Do they check the contents of the crates?” Three asked, thinking hiding inside might be an option.

“Not at the docks, and we’re well trusted at this point. Though not for long if you make a mistake,” Klax scowled.

“And do they stay closed to get transported to the stores?”

Kalx shook her head. “They’ll open them up top.”

“Our gear could be in them at least,” Uthar suggested.

“I can keep all our gear in my storage hole,” Idris said. “We just need time to reequip.”

“If you’re looking for something it will be underneath. There are rooms below but I have no intelligence on them,” Klax said.

“Why does this prison have an ‘Audience Chamber’,” Eli pointed.

“An efreet named Vrakir rules the Hold but he is rarely present. His lieutenant Jarazoun is who you’ll have to worry about. They lord it over the rest of the camp; they live there. Duergar guards make their homes below too.”

“Does Vrakir hiring his prison out to the Realms? Or is it for prisoners of his own choosing?”

“I don’t ask questions,” Klax said shaking her head. “But I think it’s both. People want someone not to return they send them there. The efreet are a nasty pair, and Kalimrax always hungry.”

“Who are the guards? Only duergar?” Uthar asked.

“The prisoners are beaten by duergar, and the duergar by the devils. It’s a heady brew,” Klax said warming to the description.

“Heavily guarded?”

“Surprisingly few. Simply because where are you going to go? The prison yard is completely contained, the walls forty-foot high and twenty thick. There’s a dragon and diving into the lava isn’t the best option.”

The company spent some time debating the best approach.

“I can see two options,” Three started. “We hide in the crates and burst out and kill everything we see. Or maybe Marko can disguise all of us with his illusions, which may buy us enough time to get around the dock before someone realises. I can’t think of an option three.”

“We’re not going to fly in, are we?” Eli said to many shaking heads.

“Where are we heading on the map?” Idris said.

“We need to get below. So via the storerooms or the audience chamber, or through the prison yard to the cells or barracks,” Eli pointed out on the map.

“You can’t go via the audience chamber,” Klax advised, overhearing. “That’s a lava stream flowing from above.”

“How far is it from the docks to the stores?” Idris asked.

“Several hundred feet, depending on which ladder you take,” Klax said.

“And they lead below? To some kind of lair?” Uthar said.

“A ‘dungeon’ if you will,” Eli smirked.

Klax shrugged and nodded. “I’ve only ever seen the stores.”

Idris, concentrating furiously, devised a plan. “You will all get inside the portable hole. You can fit, just—it’s not going to be comfortable but one of you is small.”

“Who?” Marko said quickly.

“Me,” Uthar said just as quickly, saving a long argument.

“And after two or three minutes you’re going to have to start holding your breath,” Idris said, “But it’s not going to take me that long to get where I need to go.”

“I’d rather walk in on the lava lake!” Eli scoffed. “Three minutes?? And what if—”

“I’m not going to be found or detected,” Idris assured. “I will make myself invisible, take the hole, and teleport myself up to the plateau.”

“From the boat?” Uthar probed.

“Yes. Then I have a few moments to get to a store, at which point I let you free.”

There was silence as the company considered this. The hole would just be large enough, and breathing possible until the ruse had to unfold. But there were great risks, suffocating being not the least. But if Idris could avoid detection and get inside a store, it appeared more attractive than storming the docks.

“It sounds like the best way to get us inside, and with all our gear equipped,” Three said after giving it some thought.

“What about the three minutes?”

“You only have to stay enclosed from the entrance to the harbour until I’m in range of the stores,” Idris explained. “Before that I’ll cast an illusion over it to keep it hidden.”

“Or we can just throw a canvas over it,” Three said.

Idris nodded. “There’s enough breathable air in there for ten minutes, so we have that long before you have to start worrying.” He called Klax over and explained the plan.

“So there’ll be a hole in my boat?” she frowned.

Idris smiled. “Not a real hole. It will lie on the floor of your craft.”

“How much room will you need? I can’t turn up with an empty boat, fast-talker though I am.”

“You bring in your normal load, just eighty-percent it,” Three said.

“And the six rowers? That will be you?”

“No, it can’t be us,” Three said. “It will be too suspicious to have an entirely new crew.”

“Well how on earth are we going to row in then?” Klax scowled.

“We only need a six-foot circle to be free on the deck. Is that possible?” Idris said.

“Of course.”

“Good. My companions will be inside that hole, and you’ll have your regular crew rowing.”

“Inside the hole? I don’t envy them that,” Klax smirked. “Going to be a heavy load.”

“My companions here won’t be contributing to the weight,” Idris sighed.

“If you say so. Run me through from start to finish,” Klax frowned.

“I’ll be the only one of us outside on the boat,” Idris explained. “Invisible so the guards can’t see me. Once we get inside where I can see the point on the upper plateau I’m going to cast an illusion to hide the hole and seal it. The timer starts then; ten minutes plus a few. I teleport myself and the bag to the closest storeroom. I get inside, fast, and free my friends.”

Klax raised both eyebrows. “That’s your plan?”

“That’s our plan.”

Klax scratched her head. “Well it might work. I will say the devils who guard the harbour towers are particularly good at…seeing things. I don’t know how they do it or what it extends to. I saw someone trying to smuggle something in once and it didn’t end well for them.”

“As Three said, maybe the hole just needs to be just covered with a tarp,” Uthar said. “Keep it simple.”

“Sure,” Klax shrugged. “So my six crew, the gith is invisible, and the rest of you are in the hole.”

“You have it,” Idris nodded.

“I will say that if they see through your invisibility I will give you up without hesitating,” Klax declared. “I will give you up without thinking twice.”

Idris considered this. “Well what if I go in as one of your crew?”

“No weapons, no armour.”

“That’s fine. I’m not going past the towers invisible. That won’t come until the last moment.”

Klax nodded, satisfied.

“Any objections? Or better ways?” Idris said, looking around.

“I have so many objections but no better way,” Eli sighed.

“I think it gets us with half a chance into the dungeon,” Uthar said, “And that’s it’s own thing.”

The plan was set in motion, Klax taking care to cover the fresh hole in her vessel with a tarp. She positioned crates packed with food, water, rope and raw iron around it and laid long planks of wood overhead to further obscure what lay below.

The journey upriver took some hours, and it was hard yards, particularly for Idris. His weapons and armour were in the hole with his companions, and he could only hope they were more comfortable than he.

Eventually Brimstone Hold appeared in the distance, a looming edifice that towered over the lava lake.

Klax nodded toward the carved basalt fortress. “Guards patrol the walls, you can see the devil in the nearest tower.” Idris watched carefully as the guards passed the observation along the length of the wall.

A red-feather-winged devil in black plate armour holding a curled magic rope

“We’re approaching the harbour gates,” Klax warned softly. A huge chain was strung between the harbour towers, resting half-submerged in the lava. “Moment of truth,” Klax whispered.

“You’re early, Klax,” a devil guard called from far above. “Care to explain why?”

“Vrakir asks, we deliver,” Klax said simply. “What more do you need to know.”

“Surly as usual. Why the new front-oar, what happened to the ogre?”

Klax thumbed the lava, then drew it over her throat. “She got lazy.”

The devil laughed. “I missed your wit, Klax.” Idris and the company breathed a sigh of relief on hearing the massive harbour chain start to rise, clanking heavily and dripping globs of lava. Klax steered the boat inside the harbour and Idris gasped when he saw the enormous efreet head sculpted into the sheer rock wall at the back of the Hold, lava flowing freely from the mouth into the harbour below

A fortress is bounded by looming dark basalt walls. In the background an enormous efreet head is sculpted into a sheer rock wall, lava flowing freely from the mouth and into a harbour below.

Brimstone Hold

Recovering his wits, Idris looked along the rim of the harbour, pleased to see no guards. That faded quickly when a large red dragon swooped overhead, the shadow racing over the relatively tiny boat as it passed. It wasn’t huge, but it was a dragon.

“That’s Kalimrax,” Klax hissed. “He loves to harass the docks to be careful.”

“Klax, thank you,” Idris whispered. “Just say I fell in.”

“Good luck. I hope I don’t ever see you again.”

Idris chuckled. “You may not.” Idris nodded and calmed himself as he searched for his teleport spot. He pulled his oar as the boat rounded toward the docks. “We’re going,” he whispered to the company, using his mage hand to seal the hole and loft it over.

Inside darkness enveloped the company. The sudden silence was deafening and the sweaty stench even more irrepressible.

Idris watched the dragon as it swooped lazily overhead. It swung down for a low pass then shot up and away. The moment that happened Idris vanished. He fixed his gaze on the plateau to the south, guessing where the lower store stood.

An instant later he found himself standing some forty feet above the harbour. The efreet face loomed behind him, heat pulsing from the lava pouring from the mouth. He smiled to see a twenty-foot square storeroom just to his south-west. He hustled toward it, praying the door would be unlocked. He saw the dragon swooping again, drawing close to Klak’s boat, but had not time to watch.

He yanked on the door to the store and must to his relief it opened. He slammed it shut behind him and tossed the hole onto the floor. The company emerged moments later, sucking in lungful’s of fresh, heated air. Three nodded at Idris then frowned. “Idris are you ok? You look faint.”

Idris rested himself against the wall, panting, the intensity of the last hours catching up to him all at once. For a moment he felt like he was going to pass out, but he forced the wave of exhaustion away. “I’m okay,” he nodded, “It worked.”

“So that went smoothly,” Eli said respectfully to Idris.

Just at that moment the roar of the dragon boomed from outside.

“It did, but maybe not for Klax,” Idris said, climbing back into his armour, assisted by Uthar.

“Klax was born of the spawn of Hell,” Eli spat, “She can go back there.”

“We’re in the lower store at the corner of the harbour,” Idris explained. Outside there was yelling and more dragon-booms.

“Time to go,” Eli said heading to the stairs leading into darkness.

The heat was still oppressive despite the insulation of the basalt. A solid iron door stood at the foot of the stairway. Marko listened. “Nothing. Empty,” he assured.

“It’s a storeroom, right, we’re not expecting anyone,” Eli nodded. “Just a sword.”

“We’ve literally come to the storeroom of the sword of Kas,” Idris smirked.

Instead of a store, stone bunks protruded from the walls, atop which five Duergar slumbered, snoring loudly (how did Marko not hear that, Eli frowned) and a sixth stood by a cold hearth. He spun as the door swung open and he saw the company bristling with weaponry. “WHAT’S THE MEANING OF THIS THEN?!” he cried, waking several of his fellows.

A stout fellow with a prodigious white beard and pale grey skin, wieidling a hammer and dressed in armour

Uthar and Eli started pulling their blades free when Marko jumped in front and put his hands up. “Wait! Wait!”

The duergar looked at each other quickly. “Who the hell are ye??”

“My name is Mister Marko.”

“Who the fook is Mister fookin’ Marko and why should I give a flying fook?! Up up up!” he cried as the rest of the duergar roused. “We’re under—”

The duergar froze mid word. “Go ahead, Marko,” Three hissed, his hands lowering from the spell.

“No-one is hear to hurt anyone. At all,” Marko said calmly. “I’m Mister Marko and I’m from the Wee Folk. You may have heard of us, you may not of, but our intent is not to harm you but maybe to recruit you and help you.”

The nearest duergar leapt over to his frozen companion as the others hefted their heavy maces. “What’ve ye done to Grunthak!”

“He’s fine—”

“E’s not fine, e’s not moving!”

“He’s not moving because he was going to do something silly. We’ve held him,” Marko explained.

“We didn’t want you to scream,” Three added from the shadows.

“Well unhold him you cur!”

“We’re trying to help,” Marko tried again. “Are you part of a union?”

“What’re ye talkin’ about a ‘union’??” the duergar scowled.

“I’m with the Wee Folk as I said.”

“Ain’t heard no ‘Wee Folk’.” The duergar nodded to his companions and they stepped forward, weapons ready. “Release him or you die!”

“Free him,” Marko whispered, and Three obeyed. Then, much to the company’s dismay, Marko sat down on the ground.

“Oh dear god,” Idris groaned.

The suddenly free duergar shook his head to clear it. “What’d ye do to me!?”

“We want to talk to you.”

“Why would we talk to ye? What are ye doing here?”

Marko smiled. “We’d like to recruit you into the equivalent of a union. To get you better rights and opportunities.”

Eli turned to Idris. “What is he saying?”

Idris shook his head, a shit-kicking grin spreading over his face.

“I feel you’re being persecuted here,” Marko guessed, “As are many others of our stature.”

The duergar was taken aback. “Well…we are being persecuted, that be true enough.” He looked around to nods and muttered agreement from his fellows. “But how can ye help us?” he said suspiciously.

“There are more of us than you realise,” Marko promised.

“More who? They be all tall folk behind ye.”

“They’re all short for their species, I assure you,” Marko lied confidently.

“You! Big red one!”

“Urgh,” Uthar grunted.

The duergar looked back to Marko. “That one be stupid? E’ doesn’t talk?”

“Don’t be rude. Sit down and join me.”

“Och I’m not goin’ to sit down with ye little fella.”

“Oh no,” Idris groaned.

Marko paled. Squinted. His ears twitched. His hand drifted toward his dagger.

Suddenly the door on the far side of the room swung open and a duergar in a chef’s hat stepped through. He held a dripping wooden spoon in one hand. “All right here Grunthak?” he said gruffly.

“All right, sir, all right. There be a fella here says he can help us against those deovels.”

“And the devils,” Marko nodded uncertainly.

“That be what I sayed, the deovels,” Grunthak nodded. “That we done be mistreated.”

The wooden spoon holder nodded slowly. “Maybe yes, maybe he be right.” He called back into the room behind. “Frego? Someone here says he’ll help with the deovels.”

Frego walked into the room holding a steaming pot of stew. “What be the meaning of this?”

“Oh! You have stew!” Marko exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

“Aye, that we av. We just be having an argument about it, matter of fact.”

“About what?”

“Well Waylon here says there should be more spice,” Frego grumbled, “But tuber stew don’t need no great spicing, so I’ll be damned if he’s be getting any more in there.”

“Och Frego you be a daft one,” Waylon-the-spoon-holder snorted. “Course it needs more spice!” At this several of the duergar nodded keenly, whilst others started muttering about too much heat killing a good tuber.

Marko felt he was losing control of the conversation. “May I taste it and make a decision for you? Would that help?”

Frego plonked the stew on a sideboard and wiped his hands on his apron. “Who the hell are ye to be tasting me stew?”

“My name is Mister Marko,” Marko said patiently. “And I’m from the Wee Folk. I’m a halfling,” he added proudly.

“I can see that you eejit!” Frego said to a round of laughter.

“He didn’t call you short,” Idris hissed to Marko seeing the rogue bristle, “He just called you an idiot.”

Marko settled. “I wasn’t sure you knew what a halfling was.”

“You think I’m daft like ye? You think I be stupid too?”

“You know who calls you stupid?” Three called over Marko’s shoulder. “Those devils.”

Frego nodded firmly. “You be right there, old man. They treat us bad they do, those deovels. High and mighty up there on their towers, always be telling us what to do.” He spat, drawing a round of spitting from every duergar in the room.

“And they’re very tall too,” Marko added.

“We be down there dealing with the filth and prisoners, and they be up there spinning around whipping people,” Grunthak grumbled.

“Why don’t we help you escape?” Marko proposed.

“Well it’s a job, isn’t it,” Grunthak shrugged to general agreement.

Uthar stifled a laugh and Three coughed.

Eli, seeing the moment slipping again, pushed his way forward. The duerger started muttering about tall folk barging in before Eli lowered himself to one knee. That quietened the crowd.

“That be a good start, laddie,” Frego announced. “You know what I think? I think we give this young fella an audience.” The duergar’s nodded and mumbled, settling back on their stone beds and leaning in.

Eli looked around the gathered duergar and cleared his throat. Taking a guess, he spoke in Halfling. “My name is Eli Hedgeberry, brethren to Master Marko,” he began. “I grew up among his people.”

“You speak the deep speech I see,” Frego said, clearly impressed. Eli reflected on this for a moment, realising that was what they were hearing.

“I speak the language of all who would be our brothers,” Eli agreed.

“All who would be oppressed!” Waylon scowled. “By the devoels!”

“Don’t get me started,” Eli spat, drawing another round of spitting from the duergar. “The halfling I grew up amongst, they were oppressed—”

“Like we are!”

“Like you are! And they needed the assistance of but one single tall folk to defeat the oppressors,” Eli declared firmly.

Grunthak frowned. “I don’t know about that, laddie. We be pretty good at fighting ourselves, ye know.”

“Well of course you are,” Eli nodded furiously. “You’re not like the halfling who’re agricultural folk at heart.”

“Oh no, you’re right there—those small fellas need all the help they can get.”

Eli managed to hold Marko back as he continued. “Regardless of our height, we would offer our services in convincing the devils to change their attitude to you.”

“Och, how about you just kill the lot?” Frego growled. “I dinnae think ye are going to talk them around!” His companions let out a low murmuring growl to match.

“That would be my preference too,” Eli declared.

“They be deovels you know. Evil, far more evil that we be,” Waylon explained.

Eli paused, glancing at Brother Cooper before looking back to Waylon. “You’re evil?” he said weakly.

“Well it be a matter of who you ask. But no, nope, we’re not evil. We kill the prisoners if we have to, but not wantonly.”

“Good. Well. We’ll start by killing your devils,” Eli said shakily. “All it takes is us banding together and we can overthrow those devils in no time.”

“I bet there’d be a bit of gold in it too,” Three interjected.

“Gold you say,” Grunthak said, ears pricked.

“Steady now, Grunthak,” Frego cautioned. “I don’t think Jarazoun would be too happy about us throwin’ over those deovels.”

“Why do you care, if you’re in charge?” Three tempted.

“He’ll kill us all.”

“Who will?”

“Jarazoun.”

“Not with us around,” Three declared.

“Ye going to kill him too are ye? Not just the deovels?” Grunthak said with some scepticism.

“That’s what we’re trying to tell you!” Eli cried. “We’re here to help!”

Frego folded his ruddy arms and contemplated Eli. “I tell you what, laddie, I think the proof is in the pudding,” he said nodding to the stew. “Or the stew as the case may be. Ye say ye can overthrow Jarazoun? Ye do that and we be on your side.” The gathered duergar called their support of this plan with pounded fist and calls of ‘aye!’

Eli smiled and climbed to his feet. “Which way’s the nearest devil?”

“What ye’re going to fight him now? You don’t want some stew?”

“Just the nearest devil, let’s start there.”

“Well…follow me!”

The company exited to a round of encouragement and slaps on the back.

“How many more of you fine folk are there in the workforce here?” Idris asked.

“Oh a score or more,” Waylon said.

“And do you trust all of them?”

“What sort of a question be that?” Waylon scowled. “Course we do!”

“Well folk are folk,” Idris stammered. “You don’t like every—”

They be all good duergar stock, of course we trust them! What are implying sir?!”

Idris crouched ('One knee is the way', Eli hissed). “If you get a chance in the next little while, have a word to your brethren and let them know something might be afoot,” Idris winked.

“Och, I see, ye shoulda said in the first place.” Waylon called over his shoulder.” Luxon! Luxon—get up to the prison yard and pass the word around! Something be happening!”

Ahead Frego opened the door to the next room. “Is this where the devil’s are?” Eli asked.

“No ye wee eejit, this be where we be feeding.” Frego nodded to the door opposite. “First door there? Don’t be going that way less ye be wanting a deovel fight.” He yanked open a second door to reveal a long corridor running east. “First door, store. Second door, back where ye came in. Far door? Not so much deovels as snakes, so don’t ye go there or it’ll be a fight for ye.”

“Where are you trying to lead us if it’s not to a fight?” Eli said, confused.

“Well ye said ye were taking on Jarazoun, didn’t ye?”

“That’s right—we want to go straight to Jarazoun,” Three nodded.

“Do we?” Eli said, confused, and more than ready to slay devils.

“Cut the head off the snake,” Idris nodded.

Frego scratched his prodigious beard. “Young sir if it be deovels you want, then go back to that first door. Elsewise if it be Jarazoun ye want, well then straight down this here path.”

Eli glanced back, then forward, then nodded. “Down the corridor we go.”

“Good luck my son,” Frego said grasping Eli’s forearm. “I likely won’t see ye again, but it’s been a breath of fresh air. Not often we get someone here who understands us so well, and what we’ve been through.”

“We’ll make sure we kill all the devils and all the other evil things,” Eli swore.

“Good man. Come back for some stew when ye’re through!” Frego called over his shoulder.

Three glanced at Frego, but the duergar obviously did not see himself included in Eli’s vow. And, he pondered, perhaps nor did Eli.

Eli charged off down the corridor, ignoring the doors as Frego had ordered. At the far end a door, pulsing with heat, stood at the base of a steep flight of stairs. A wisp of smoke drifted under the doorway. “Let’s not go in that one either,” Eli declared.

“Now we’re out of earshot, pause a moment gentlemen,” Idris said at the foot of the steps. “Fate may have thrown us a good turn here, because the sword of Kas, as far as it was described to us, is no small prize. And planar beings being what they are, particularly if they are full of themselves, I can’t imagine one wouldn’t want to keep it on a wall or plinth. Somewhere visible as opposed to locked away in a store. So from that point of view maybe we’re heading to where the sword may be in any case.”

“Well that’s what we’re hoping,” Eli nodded. He climbed the stairs, slowing only when he saw the door at the top of the ascent, and a similar beating heat emanating from behind. Raising his hand to it he felt it was too hot to comfortably touch.

From behind the door a rich bubbling sounded, the same as was heard in the harbour. Lava.

“I think we really need to be ready before we open this door,” Uthar warned. “Spells, potions, whatever you need to do.” As he spoke he raised his hands in supplication, then turned them palm outward toward Three. A shimmering ward appeared for a moment…

…and shifted a moment later as Three countered with a spell of his own. “I won’t allow another God to protect me. You keep your Torm—I have Kelemvor.”

Uthar met Three’s eyes and nodded with grudging respect. “Ready?” he pushed the door open.

A wave of intense heat hit the party, the source a bubbling field of lava that flowed into a dark tunnel to the west. Rearing hissing out of the lava were two huge orange-scaled snake-like creatures with hawkish faces, their sinuous coils and jagged spines smouldering.

A huge orange-scaled snake-like creatures with hawkish face, sinuous coils and jagged spines smouldering with heat

Two huge doors to the east were guarded by a pair of flaming elemental creatures bound in dark plate armour raising curved blades to meet the intruders.

An elemental fire creature bound in dark plat armour wielding dual scimitars

Session played June 1, 2026