Chapters

Grave Pit: “My last memory was not this”
Evernight: “There are no safe havens”
Community: “I think I killed my father”
The Dolindar Tomb: “That was a shame, I liked him”
The Death of Three: “You’re not even trying”
Neverwinter: “Not a woman!”

---

Grave Pit

Three came back to his senses to find himself in an open coffin in a grave pit full of them, staring up at a fire-red sky. Muddy 10-foot deep walls surrounded the pit and he could hear the hungry slavering and snuffling of approaching undead. Closer to home the groans of his companions reviving gave him some solace.

“Is this real?” Three muttered, not expecting an answer.

“If you mean are we lying in a pit inside coffins—then yes,” Idris groaned.

“Which of the things made you think it might not be?” Eli piped up.

“Because my last memory was not this. And rationally, why would anyone—”

“Do you remember when Vecna killed us and we went to Heaven, and you said it wasn’t heaven?” Eli interrupted. “Is this the same thing?”

“That’s not where we are. Someone has lifted our bodies…we murdered all the people in that temple, didn’t we?”

“We killed the elf,” Sifer grunted, remembering his fatal shot.

“Of those in the chamber, we probably killed a significant number,” Idris agreed. “But I didn’t witness the ritual leader die.”

Marko leapt out of his coffin, not enjoying the confines. “Did everyone get the strong impression that everyone—across all planes—everyone realised there were cults of Vecna everywhere?”

“That did seem to be apparent,” Eli agreed ruefully, recalling the vision.

“Yes,” Sifer said, preparing his weapons and indicating everyone should follow suit. He didn’t like what he was hearing closing in from above the pit.

Marko ignored Sifer’s warning. “So does that mean everyone shares that knowledge? That they are now warned these cults exist?”

“No,” Idris said firmly. “But I think the cults across the planes are linked with each other.”

“And only we know that,” Three added, watching Sifer move to a defensive position.

“Sifer they’ll get here when they get here,” Idris sighed. He wasn’t looking forward to another fight so soon after the last.

Uthar was on Sifer’s wavelength—better to get ahead of this. He hauled himself up the edge of the grave pit and grunted. “Undead, many—ghasts and ghouls!” he called, then bounded to the nearest ghast, a pale-skinned slavering beast with raking fingers and a dangling forked tongue. He hacked pieces off the undead fiend, but didn’t return it to death.

“Ghast’s can paralyse you!” Three warned, just as a ghoul leapt over the edge of the pit and landed on Idris, slashing wildly. It was followed by an enormous, bloated creature the size of a hill-giant that landed in the pit with a thud, also slamming it’s fetid fists into Idris. Idris reeled back but couldn’t avoid the blow, nor the overwhelming stench.

Uthar found himself quickly surrounded by several more which tried futilely to wrench chunks of flesh from his neck. Another bounded on top of Eli and skewered him with a claw.

Marko quickly scaled the pit wall and fired on Uthar’s cluster, Sifer doing the same. He climbed out of the pit and scaled a dividing stone wall by walking up it—suddenly realising that this must be Neverdeath Graveyard. But why was the sky blood red? He surveyed the yard below, seeing a dozen or so undead stumbling near the pit as well as the huge barrowghast. He finished one of Uthar’s foes, and sorely damaged another. “Three more on the left,” he yelled in warning.

For those in the pit the foul stench was almost overwhelming. Most of it seemed to be emitting from the bloated ghast. Eli almost retched, thankful he had somewhat acclimatised to bad smells when hiding in the catacomb latrine. He got busy with his the massive ghast, bludgeoning and kicking in a flurry of blows. He shot his other foot out into one of the smaller creatures for good measure.

“In the name of Kelemvor!” Three cried, calling on his god to turn these foul creatures. Uther found himself covered in undead as a light exploded from within the ghast attacking him. But Three was horrified to see none of the others reacted—neither running, turning, or exploding.

Idris found himself assaulted again, and heartily sick of it. As another ghast tried to bite him he reacted fast, creating an instant shield that deflected the rotting teeth. He blurred himself out of the pit to stand above it, leaving Eli surrounded below. But as ever, Idris had a plan: a bright streak flashed from his finger to a judicious point beyond the barrowghast, which then blossomed with a low roar into a fiery explosion. Most of the undead were destroyed by the fearsome burn, and the barrowghast was now a flaming pyre of angry undead.

Eli found himself just outside the blast radius, something he reminded himself to thank Idris for later. Uthar leapt back into the pit to assist Eli, slashing ghoul limbs asunder until it was dead. He glanced over to Eli to see the barrowghast slapping both palms into Eli’s head, rocking him into the ghast standing behind which jammed a claw into his torso.

“We need to clear the little guys out!” Three yelled.

Marko’s arrows peppered Eli’s ghast in response, but it continued to stagger about. Sifer heeded Three’s tactical call, nailing the same ghast to the ground with precision shooting. He swung his weapon to Uthar’s half-dead undead and finished it too. He grinned and sent a final shot into the big ghast for good measure. As the final shot buried into its fetid flesh, poisonous ichor sprayed from the wound coating Eli who gasped in disgust. But he had no fear of the poison: his purity of body and mind made sure of that.

But it did make him angry. He turned into a blur of blades, fists, feet, and maybe even headbutts. More ichor sprayed him but he cared not, nor did the sloughing intestines that covered him as the creature was disassembled. “In your own time, people!” he yelled from under the deluge.

Three had been about to approach and assist, but the shower of poison changed his mind. “Kelemvor!” he yelled as instead a twenty-foot tall guardian appeared by Eli’s side, wielding a gleaming sword and a huge shield emblazoned with a gravestone—Three’s symbol of Kelemvor. The arrival of the guardian bathed the barrowghast in radiant light, causing it to shrink back into the wall of the pit.

Despite it being already aflame, Idris added to the conflagration with further fire blots. Uthar strode toward the ghast, ignoring Eli’s warning cry to ‘stay back!’ for he too shrugged poison off. But as he approached, intending to finish it, he slipped on the sluice of barrowghast innards that now covered the pit, stumbling to the ground. The barrowghast almost smiled as it lifted its huge foot and drew a massive fist back to into the prone paladin. Uhtar miraculously rolled clear of the stomp, but was unable to avoid the smashing fist which winded him as it shunted him into the grave muck.

Marko sprinted along the top of the pit drawing his bow as he did. The arrow flew straight, true, and deadly. The barrowghast exploded, chunks of rotting flesh covering Uthar, Eli and even Three.

---

Evernight

With the battle over, Sifer used his elevated position to scan for further threats. He was surprised to see nothing incoming, nor any movement, despite the constant distant howls, cries and murmurs. Graves and dilapidated mausoleums stood as far as the eye could see.

Three hauled himself out of the pit, brushing chunks of undead from his now filthy clothing. He looked around and nodded, seeing crumbling structures that lined up with where he would expect to see them (in rather better condition) in Neverwinter. “I think we’re in a parallel world,” he declared. “We’ve crossed over.”

“We’re in the good version,” Eli said hopefully.

“Evernight,” Idris said, recalling the journals found in the catacombs. “That’s what it was called.”

“What was where this pit of coffins was?” Eli asked.

“A garden,” Three said. “This is like a mirror. We need to get back to our reality. I don’t know how to do that but I can get us out of this graveyard if I’m right.”

Eli scratched his head. “If this is the backwards version, surely a place that was bad in the other version will be good and safe in this one? Let’s find that?”

“Your assumption is incorrect, Eli,” Idris said. “I’ve studied planes like this. It’s not the reverse version, this is the Shadowfell. A dark reflection, not the opposite—the Shadowfell exists alongside our world.” Three nodded in agreement.

“Then we need to get out of town,” Eli said. “This city was bad in the good version, a hive of scum and villainy, so it will be bad in the bad version too. If there’s one safe place in the world that won’t be tainted, it’s back to my compound.”

“It doesn’t matter where we go, let’s just go fast,” Marko said. “We all know people that we trust.”

“But there might not be people you can trust here,” Three warned.

“What are you all talking about—there’s no-one here that you know,” Sifer scoffed. “This is a battlefield people, we’re still on it, and we need to rest.”

“He’s right,” Three nodded. “This is where Vecna is at his most powerful. Let’s move.” At the mention of Vecna everyone heard a swell of unintelligible whispers that faded as fast as it arrived. Three shuddered, then led the company out of the graveyard, helped by the fact this version was riddled with ruins and gaps in what were normally solid walls. The snuffling sounds of undead followed every step of the way but none showed themselves. Eli used his newfound ability to see invisible things but nothing was revealed, making him question if the power even worked.

Three exited the graveyard to find the company in a forlorn metropolis that was the dismal opposite of Neverwinter—but still undeniably Neverwinter. Ash-laden fog rose from a stream of lava flowing through the city in place of Neverwinter River, choking the city under blood-red skies.

---

Across the river a large market stretched for blocks in every direction. Tattered canvas and shrouds separate the numerous stalls. From this distance everything in the market exhibited pale, subdued colours, and there was a lot of movement from humanoids of various size, some very large.

“A smaller version of the same markets stand there in Neverwinter,” Idris observed.

Three scanned the river, seeing many of the stone crossings still stood. “We can get across if we want to,” he said.

“The lights in the buildings indicate something lives here,” Uthar warned, pointing to the many towers and tenements that still stood.

“Pennants too,” Sifer pointed. “Flying insignia I would relate to sects and factions of undead.”

“Oh I don’t think we want to go to the markets then,” Eli wavered.

“Who thinks they might have a place which, even in the echo, might be a safe haven?” Three asked.

“There are no safe havens, we need to dig in, we need to rest,” Sifer spat.

“Well we need a starting point,” Three scowled, “Did anyone have a safe house?”

“You had a bar or something, Brother Idris?” Eli ventured.

Idris shook his head. “I think assuming that the Shining Serpent would be a safe place in this version is a very big assumption.”

“There are places throughout every city where we could hide,” Marko said, “A cul-de-sac, "

“I think, Master Reville, that we should take your lead, if you know a blind alley or street,” Idris said.

Marko nodded. “I’ll direct us to a place there will be no-one—a place you would run to too hide.”

“We’re going to go there and it will be a basement at the end of an alley and it’s going to turn out a serial killer has taken up residence there,” Eli said.

“Well if it’s only one…” Idris chuckled.

“And we’ve got six—I’ll take those odds,” Three said with a wink to Idris.

“Strategically we should stay at the edge of town,” Sifer advised, “Kick out the first resident we find, and rest.”

It was Marko’s turn to lead, and he did indeed have a nose for this work. Eli saw undead skulking in the shadows as he followed, most shrinking away from sight as soon as they became visible. He wasn’t sure what to make of this, but followed the lead of the others who weren’t slaughtering each one they passed.

Many buildings were abandoned, but Marko quickly rejected buildings others suggested—“too many doors, too close to the thoroughfare, no escape routes”—before settling on a ramshackle but intact two story building in a quiet laneway. “It has a roof,” he said happily, “And we can jam this door shut.”

He directed everyone in making it secure, boarding up gaps in the woodwork and securing the exits. “We’ll sleep upstairs, one on watch at all times.”

---

Community

Three woke earliest. He took a flask from his pack and cleaned his face and hands, then offered a prayer, cleansing himself physically and spiritually before the day began.

As Three prayed Sifer rose quietly, moving downstairs to do a quick perimeter of the building. He unbarred the door and shunted it aside.

He stopped in his tracks on the threshold.

Outside were ten or so pallid looking vampires, standing either side of a woman with a long, white hair tied up in a bun. Behind the vampires were a motley collection of undead—ghouls, skeletons, wights and more. The woman, also a vampire, smiled and curtseyed lightly.

---

“Welcome to our fair city, young man!”

“Is this your part of the town?” Sifer managed, holding his nerve as best he could. He was thinking fast—why hadn’t they attacked, was this a negotiation, how can we get out of here. Delaying seemed the best approach for now.

“It certainly is.”

“And what’s your name?”

“My, my, you are inquisitive,” the vampire grinned revealing her prodigious fangs. “My name is Sangora, proprietor of Sangora Sanguinaries. And whom do I find myself addressing?”

“We’re passing through,” Sifer said quickly.

“I can see that. But who are you?”

“I am…Sifer,” Sangora chuckled. “Hard to solve and unknown to many!” The vampires around her laughed appreciatively.

“Unknown to some,” Sifer said, tipping his head.

“Hard to unravel.”

“But not a threat.”

“No indeed! It is most unusual for us to have the living in our good city—what brings you here?”

“We’re not sure.”

“You are not sure…and yet you are ‘passing through’?”

“We are passing through, I hope, out of this plane,” Sifer offered, trying to avoid whatever trap she was laying.

“You seek to leave, not arrive.”

“This doesn’t seem like the place that we belong. We come from a plane adjacent.”

“Neverwinter.”

Sifer nodded.

“And this is Evernight,” Sangora said, spreading her arms to encompass the city.

“Thank you for letting us know.”

“‘Us’. ‘We’. There is more than one of you, isn’t there—in fact I believe there are six?”

Sifer paused, realising there was to be no element of surprise. “As those of your residence have told you.”

“Naturally. You have had your rest, recovered your powers—perhaps now they could all come downstairs.” Sangora said in a manner that made it clear this was more an order than an invitation. “I would like to meet them, particularly if they are all as handsome as you!”

Sifer swallowed as he watched Sangora, who seemed at least 250 years old. He tried his best to see if she was trying to bewitch him, but it seemed she was merely being ‘charming’. “One moment,” he said, maintaining his reasonably gruff demeanour and backing away upstairs.

---

He hustled over to Marko who was readying himself for the day ahead. “This is a community and they’ve come to see us,” Sifer said quickly.

“Who has come?” Marko said, stretching.

“Her name is Sangora. A vampire. And there is an assortment of undead beasts and other vampires that appear to be under her command. She requests an audience with all of us.”

Marko looked startled at the mention of vampires. He jumped up and roused everyone to hear Sifer’s report. He repeated what he had said before continuing.

“Sangora seems to be interested in our presence here. They are armed to the hilt and we must be diplomatic; this is not a fight we could easily win. I’ve played an opening gambit with her—would you like to take over?”

“Yeeesss,” Marko said hesitantly. “Um…um…ok. You said ‘vampires’? And ‘undead’? Definitely vampires?”

Sifer frowned. “A community. Of various armed and unarmed undead. Including what looks to be several vampires.”

“I’m happy to speak to her,” Idris offered.

“It’s ok, I’ll do it,” Marko said, more sure this time. “Let’s all go downstairs. We don’t want to keep the…lady…waiting. You said there was more than one vampire?”

“At least half a dozen.”

“So a coven of vampires,” Marko said, concerned.

“No that’s witches,” Three corrected.

“No—it’s called a coven of vampires, I’m pretty sure.”

“It isn’t. It’s a coffin of vampires.”

“I don’t think these terms are relevant in this case,” Eli mumbled.

“What did they actually say, Sifer,” Three asked, giving up his linguistic crusade for the moment.

“They said they had observed us. They know we are rested, and they are interested in knowing why the living are here. They are armed as I would expect any community to be armed when strangers come and take up residence. They appear capable—but so are we.”

“They let us rest and recover, so they don’t fear us,” Three mused.

“I indicated that we are passing through, not of this plane, and that we would like to leave,” Sifer concluded.

“Okay. Time to meet them,” Marko said, heading downstairs.

---

“You didn’t invite them in, did you?” Eli whispered to Sifer, who shook his head.

“Good,” Marko said, certain that inviting a vampire into your house was a sure way to trouble.

“That’s a myth,” Three hissed, close on Marko’s shoulder.

Sifer opened the door and Marko stepped outside with a fascinated Three right on his shoulder. Marko underwent a remarkable transformation from plainly terrified to a beaming smile. “Hello!” he said with a low bow.

Sangora curtseyed in return. “Mister Marko Reville, if I am not mistaken?”

“Shit,” Three muttered.

“Yes!” Marko grinned.

“You are famous even here,” Sangora smiled. “We know all about you, you and your late companions—Stormwatch wasn’t it?”

“Oh, that, yeah, uh, yes…that was a while ago, yes, My Lady,” Marko stammered, bowing again as he didn’t quite know what else to do.

Idris rolled his eyes and lit a cigarello. This was going to be entertaining.

“And what brings you and your companions to Evernight, Mister Marko? I have already met the mysterious Sifer,” Sangora said with a nod.

“Evernight!” Marko blurted. “Um. That’s what this beautiful city is called?” he said, looking around.

“It is the home of the undead, as you an probably make out,” Sangora said to chuckles from her minions. “An echo of Neverwinter in the Shadowfell.”

“Ah! That makes more sense to me,” Marko nodded, despite it having already been explained by Idris earlier.

“Evernight is the crossroads of all trade in the Shadowfell,” Sangora said with some pride. “You may have seen our markers? The largest in all the Shadow!”

“It is indeed a large market,” Marko agreed, still terrified and still hiding it, or so he thought. “And you run this section of the city, I take it?”

Sangora bowed.

“I hope we haven’t offended you in staying in this…fine establishment?”

“Not at all! You could have asked, but we are glad to offer you our hospitality.”

“I apologise profusely! Do we own anyone for our tenancy?”

“Of course not, we are not petty like that. Tell me—under whose guidance and protection are you here?” Sangora said. “For I cannot believe you would come here without that protection…”

Marko felt the change in tone with the question and was immediately on guard. “Um…”

“Think very carefully before you answer that question,” Eli whispered close behind.

“We…we did have some…” Marko waved his hands vaguely, “Magic help to travel to another plane…”

“You mean here?”

“Well we sort of stumbled into here I guess,” Marko shrugged.

Sangora looked around her gathered community. “So you are under no protection?” The minions laughed softly.

“No, I didn’t quite say that,” Marko protested weakly.

Idris sensed Marko’s rapidly losing control of the discussion. He took a drag of his cigarello and stepped forward, meeting Sangora’s gaze. “Now that you mention it…my name is Idris. I understand you are Sangora?”

She nodded.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Idris said. “As to under who’s protection, or auspices, we are here, well—” Idris held up a hand, palm out, the lifted it to cover one eye: the universally understood salute to Vecna.

Sangora tilted her head and stepped back. The laughter from behind her stopped.

“That’s why we are here,” Idris said, dragging again on his cigar.

Sangora hesitated a moment. “You don’t strike me as acolytes of…that one.”

Three stepped forward and dropped his cowl. “Believe me, we are here because of him,” he said, seizing Idris’s theme.

As he spoke Eli leaned in to Idris. “What about those three wizards? Why don’t we just tell them the truth?” he whispered.

Marko overheard and nodded. “One of the wizards was the archmage Zandeyr—” he started, getting it quite wrong.

Idris quickly held a hand up to silence Marko. After a good start this was in danger of slipping away. He turned to Sangora. “As I said, that is why we are here. But we shan’t be tarrying long.”

Sangora’s glanced at Marko and Eli, her earlier hesitation gone. “I find it a little hard to believe. An aura of darkness doesn’t surround you. You don’t appear to be corrupted in that way.”

“We’re not in the habit of questioning his choices,” Idris pressed.

“Who’s choices?” Sangora said, feining ignorance.

“Vecna’s,” Three said immediately, realising she was daring the name to be said. And immediately the whispers swelled, everyone doing their best to quell them—though it was harder this time.

Sangora nodded slowly. “You would say his name,” she said thoughtfully.

“He is already in me and he sees what I see. He sees you, now,” Three stressed.

The vampire queen looked to one of her lieutenants, who shook his head shortly. She turned back to Three. “I see. And why has he has sent you to us?”

“We’re just here having a look,” Idris shrugged. “And we expect to be largely left alone.”

“And how long are you intending to stay?”

“As short a time as possible.”

Sangora nodded at this. “What if I was to offer you a way out—sooner, rather than later?”

“That’d be a good idea!” Eli said enthusiastically.

“Oh! And who is this charming one? What is your name young Orc?”

Idris put his hand to his forehead, rueing the interruption to his flow. He tried to show his impatience but Eli was not to be thwarted.

“I…I…Elias, your majesty.”

“Majesty! There is no need for that, though I do enjoy it,” she smiled lasciviously. “You look…innocent, somehow.”

“He’s very good at cutting and punching things though,” Idris said taking a drag and trying to retake the initiative, “Very good.”

Sangora glanced at Idris then back to her new favourite. She reached up and ran a hand down Eli’s chest. “There’s something under there, isn’t there Elias,” she said, licking her lips.

“Oh my!” Eli gasped.

“Something beating, something hard.”

“We need to go home!” Eli gargled desparately as Idris laughed.

“Well I can offer you that,” Sangora said leaning in. “Even if you are under his protection. I am less interested in having you here while you are under his gaze.”

“How would we gain passage? Three said, seeing Eli was tongue-tied.

“I…you don’t like his gaze?” Eli stuttered.

Sangora glanced around the skies above. “Not many do.”

“Then know that it burdens us as well,” Sifer offered, rejoinging the conversation.

“Mm,” Idris shrugged, showing that perhaps he didn’t mind it so much.

Eli turned his back on the vampires to face the company. “I’ve told you before; deception is the wrong path! Truth always!”

Three groaned.

A smile crept over Sangora’s face. “Deception is the wrong path, you say, my Elias?”

“Of course!” Eli said turning back to face her.

“And who is deceiving who here?”

“I…I….”

“The problem, my mistress,” Three interceded calmly, “Is that Elias, as you might have sensed, sometimes deceives himself. He is still dealing with the burden that we all share as acolytes of him. If you can lead us to where we need to go, we will pass on—which will benefit you and us both.”

Sangora now had the upper hand and wasn’t going to fold so easily. “I find multiple threads at work here; Mr Sifer, at the back, is suggesting that he struggles under the weight of this gaze. Yet Mr Idris claims you are acolytes working for the Dark Lord. And my darling Elias tells me there is deception at play. So who is telling the truth, I wonder?”

No-one spoke for a moment.

“Faith is a crooked path,” Sifer said, breaking the silence.

“What book is that from?” Eli asked, genuinely interested in such a philosophical statement.

Sifer pulled a very small book with wooden reinforced cover from his belt, surprising everyone. He waved it briefly then tucked it away.

Idris jumped into the gap left by this distraction. “You do know, or course, who he is? So none of this is out of character, surely.”

“You make a fair point, Mr Idris,” Sangora conceded gracefully. “It is not at all out of character for him to confuse and doubt, making us question what is real and what is not.”

“Precisely,” Idris smiled, surprised she would admit as much so easily.

Sangora rubbed her hands. “I will make you a deal. I will give you the location of a Crevice of Dusk that will return you home to Neverwinter. You may not be aware but these crevices—”

“We are aware,” Three interrupted.

“But you do not know where they are,” Sangora said triumphantly.

“No,” Three conceded.

“I do.”

“And the cost?”

“A simple thing,” Sangora said, smiling at Eli.

Idris snorted.

She leaned in and whispered softly in Eli’s ear, though he felt not a whisp of breath. “It has been too long since I enjoyed warm blood, let alone from one who is living. Let me feed on you and I will show you the path.”

Three gasped, overhearing every word.

“How do I know that your word is true,” Eli said, not missing a beat.

“Have I lied?”

“You haven’t said enough for me to know.”

“How can I assure you, Elias?”

“Tell one of our party the location…and I will sacrifice myself for them,” Eli said softly.

Sangora raised an eyebrow. “A generous offer. I counter your question—how can I trust you?”

Eli shrugged off his weapons and met her eyes. Sangora looked at him long and hard, then her gaze softened. “Remarkable,” she murmured. “So let me understand. You will offer yourself to me if I will tell one of your companions the location of the crevice?”

“As an act of trust,” Eli nodded.

“And who should I tell?”

“Brother Idris.”

Sangora turned to Idris. “The one who is trying to convince me so desperately that Vecna watches over you.”

Three flinched when she spoke the name, but there was no whispers. Until Eli responded; “Vecna watches us all,” after which there was a flurry of ghostly voices.

Idris reached into his pouch and floated the eyeball recovered many years ago from the first incursion against Vecna’s cults. “We’re a little pressed for time,” he said staring back at Sangora. “What were you saying?”

“A trinket,” Sangora smirked, “A clever trinket, but a trinket.”

“If that’s what you think it is then fine,” Idris scowled.

Sangora laughed and turned back to Eli. “Very well! I will do it—I find you disarmingly trustworthy. But understand that there will be consequences if you lie, though it would shock me if you were.”

“I cannot lie,” Eli said firmly, “And I will not let my brothers come to harm if I can help it.”

“He needs to walk out of here with us,” Idris warned.

“Oh he will, have no fear. I will not kill him nor will I turn him. I just wish to feed.”

Idris, despite his concern, sensed Sangora spoke true. Marko on the other hand was feeling increasingly uncomfortable with idea of Eli sacrificing himself. “Will you take anyone?” he said not quite hopefully.

“No. I will take only Elias, and he has agreed.”

“Oh.” Marko looked equally crestfallen and relieved.

There was a pause, then Sangora lifted a hand to Eli’s cheek. “It is time. Open your shirt.”

Eli looked around wildly. “What? Just here, in front of everybody?”

“Just here, in front of everybody.”

As Eli slowly undid his shirt, Three quickly stepped over to Eli and put a hand on his back “Eli, in the name of Kelemvor, embrace his gentle repose.” He knew this was likely a fruitless move but hoped it might stop Eli from becoming a vampire himself if things went badly wrong.

Sangora reached a hand to Three’s shoulder. “That is very sweet of you, but he does not need Kelemvor’s protection.”

Three smiled his horrific smile.

“And that is a lovely smile you have,” Sangora added earnestly, causing Three to almost tear up.

“Don’t worry, Brother Cooper,” Eli said kindly, “No harm can come to me.” He tilted his head to expose his neck to Sangora.

“You have a beautiful neck,” she said with a shiver, stroking a hand down from Eli’s ear to his shoulderbone.

“That’s what my uncle said,” Eli stammered. Her touch felt extraordinarily light.

“He was right,” she said heatedly. She turned her head to face Idris and her voice echoed inside his head. “There is a rift in the Dolindar tomb, which you will find in the Noble’s graveyard. Good enough?”

“So long as the crevasse is there,” Idris responded in kind.

Without a pause Sangora spun back to Eli. She grabbed his torso hungrily and plunged her teeth into his naked neck. Her fellow vampires groaned with barely constrained lust as she drew Eli’s blood into her mouth, relishing the hot burst of raw life.

Eli felt her kiss sinking into his flesh, overwhelming in its desire and unadulterated want. “Oh in his name! The sensation!!” he cried as Sangora’s lust infected his every pore. The pulsing, throbbing, fiery transfer of his life force to hers felt holy, a revelation of light and darkness mixed to produce something entirely new and precious. “May my blood bring you the truth and the light,” he gasped as she fed, causing her to clutch him ever harder.

Eli felt himself weakening, drifting as she drew until she could draw no more. She tore her mouth from Eli’s neck, spraying blood across his face. She rocked her head back in ecstasy, then grabbed Eli’s head in her hands.

“Elias…I am sated…I am yours…”

Eli, barely able to stand, smiled weakly and met her eyes. “I think I killed my father,” he whispered.

“I’m sure you did it for the right reasons,” she said as Eli finally gave up and fainted.

---

No-one could speak at what they had witnessed. Eye were averted and uncomfortably lustful thoughts buried.

Sangora on the other hand was voluminous and glowing. “Well, gentlemen. You are free—I have fulfilled my half of the bargain,” she said drawing a nod from Idris, “And you yours.”

Three looked over to Idris. “The Dolindar tomb,” he said shortly.

“Time to go,” Uthar muttered quietly.

“Red,” Idris said nodding at the half-conscious Eli. Uthar nodded and tossed the young orc over his shoulder.

The gathered undead stood aside to allow the company to pass, chattering amongst themselves about the wonders they had just witnessed. Three glanced at Sifer to get the all clear, fearing an ambush. Sifer nodded firmly—he could see they meant no harm.

Three led the way back unerringly toward the graveyard.

“So we’re not investigating this further, we’re backing out and heading home?” Sifer said.

“That’s a good point, Sifer,” Idris said. “It is worth considering, all of us, that we should maybe, maybe visit that market.”

“I’m willing to look,” Three said cautiously, “But just so you all know—I don’t think the price for anything will be what you expect.”

“I’m not talking about the price. We ended up here for a reason.”

“So ask her. Can we look before we leave?”

“She doesn’t know our reasons,” Sifer countered. “Do we have a strategy, Mister Marko?”

Marko looked quite disturbed by the whole sequence of events, which was concerning for those that knew of the unparalleled heroics of Stormwatch. “The markets? I don’t know…I guess it’s an opportunity, but…”

“What’s our wider aim?” Sifer pressed. “We’ve fought the battle, what is the war?”

“We need to get back,” Marko conceded.

“It is interesting,” Idris observed, “That the tomb that she said the crevasse is in, is the tomb the Donindar—the alleged exiles and true heirs of Neverwinter. So perhaps fate, or him, has led us to this tomb for a reason.”

Eli roused himself suddenly. “Secrets! The actress had a secret!”

“Just so, Eli, just so.”

“If she had no secret, Vecna wouldn’t want her…”

“Yes,” Marko nodded.

“So let’s tell everybody!”

“Maybe…” Idris said.

“The last thing she said to me,” Three interjected, “Was she was going to get her proof and then she was fleeing. I asked her where and said ‘it’s better I don’t tell you’. So she still has that secret—but maybe if we go to this tomb we can work it out ourselves.”

“If that is why we are here, and I think it is,” Idris said looking to Sifer, “Then this is the particular manoeuvre we should undertake. While I’m almost preternaturally intrigued by the market—”

“I’m willing to go to the market!” Three interrupted enthusiastically.

Sifer understood that whilst Sangora could offer some protection if she chose, all cities were subject to different influences and factions. “The market may be an area of neutrality amongst powerful actors,” he warned. “We have already been shown that we are very easily exposed here as living beings.”

“We should go,” Marko said.

“I don’t want to blow my own trumpet,” Eli said weakly, “But I sacrificed a lot to get you guys out of here. I feel that is being a little bit minimised…”

“That’s true and a very good point,” Marko declared, his guilt welling up again. He was meant to be a hero and here Eli was showing everyone up!

“To the tomb then,” Idris nodded.

Three peered over to the market wistfully, then fell into line and led the company away.

“There’s nothing good to be found here, Brother Cooper,” Eli whispered.

“But like you, I yearn for that forbidden knowledge,” Three smirked, only to find Eli conveniently unconscious once more.

---

The Dolindar Tomb

The company arrived safely at the Dolindar tomb under Three’s guidance. A roof supported by stone pillars extended from a small twenty-foot square tomb into the weedy yard of uneven earth. A stone door barred entry, engraved with the word DOLINDAR above it.

“Is there more too it, Brother Cooper, than this small building?” Eli asked.

“Oh yes; it’s quite large. Although this is one of the few which has the least visit. There is a level below ground.” Three said, stepping onto the portico. He was surprised to find the floor of the portico swept and free of weeds.

“Someone is looking after this,” Idris muttered, stepping up behind Three. “The tomb is attended.”

“People abode here?” Marko said.

“We’re in the shadow realm, so this isn’t the family’s doing,” Sifer added.

“Unusual down here,” Three nodded, “Every other mausoleum has been filthy and decrepit.” He pushed at the stone door cautiously, grimacing as it ground noisily against its hinges. The tomb inside was constructed of old, durable stone with a claustrophobic 10-foot ceiling. A steep spiral staircase led down into darkness, and the room was also spotlessly clean.

Three pointed to the stairs and continued to lead the way, at home in a tomb like others were at home in a tavern.

“Wait,” Marko said, pulling a small rod from his belt. “This will tell me if there is a trap nearby—I don’t trust these stairs.” He waved it around for a moment then tucked it back in his belt. “Nothing—let’s go.” Before Three could jump ahead Marko headed into the darkness.

It was a twenty-foot descent into pitch blackness. With each step a wave of isolation washed over the party, suffusing the tomb. “Perhaps an echo of the Dolindar family’s exile,” Three muttered, “It doesn’t feel like this in Neverwinter.”

The stairs opened into a large burial chamber with upright slabs set into the walls. Each slab was carved with the faded likeness of a different robed human above now-indecipherable writing. A single slab at the far end was blank and slightly ajar.

The darkness was oppressive, even for those with darkvision, so Idris infused a handful of pebbles with light and rolled them throughout the room. “Just as clean down here,” Three whispered. He looked for a trail of footsteps that might lead to the open slab, but there were none. What he did see was a surprise: the door had a piece of paper stuck to it.

“Mister Marko, shall we move forward?” Eli said softly.

“Yes—but please don’t get too close to that paper. It could be a seal or ward of some sort,” Marko warned as he walked forward, drawing his rapier, ready for any warning it might give. “Watch my back.” He felt the danger of passing each upright tomb door, but his sword gave no sign. As he drew near he did his best not to look at the paper, instead rounding the door to see if he could peer inside.

A faint blueish glow pulsed from the narrow opening. As Marko stepped forward a small squeal echoed around the chamber when an ethereal figure floated though the stone door: a smiling, ghostly female elf with a shock of pale-blue hair in a tattered brown dress and clutching a hand brush.

---

“Oh! I’m very sorry, I wasn’t expecting guests! Please excuse the mess,” she said looking around. “So many of you!”

“My lady,” Marko said bowing low.

“Oh I am no lady,” the ghost said with a smile, “I am merely the help.”

“What do you do here, to help?”

“I clean! I keep everything ship-shape,” she said proudly.

“It is a spotless tomb, I must say—the cleanest I have ever seen,” Marko said.

If a ghost could blush she would have, but she put a shy hand to her cheek. “I do try,” she beamed.

“You’ve done a remarkable job. What is this place?”

“Why it’s the Dolindar tomb—do you now know it?”

“I know a little bit,” Marko ad-libbed. “You are one of the family, or…?”

“No, no, they hired me,” the ghost said. “They paid me many lifetimes worth of gold to do it, and so I do.”

“Remarkable!”

“I died after a while,” she added, not unhappily, “But because I was contracted I continued my work.”

Marko crouched and ran a finger along the floor, drawing a look of concern. “Is there a mark on your hand? I’m very sorry!” she said attempted to sweep around Marko.

“Oh no, it’s very clean indeed,” Marko said. “And your name is?”

“Newmy!” the ghost smiled. She looked around the company again. “I can’t remember the last time I saw someone visiting down here.”

Marko made a decision to trust her. “We were told to come down here because there is some kind of doorway,” he explained. “Do you know of what I speak?”

Newmy nodded solemnly and pointed to the slab doors in the room. “There are several…no, wait, those aren’t doors! Silly Newmy!” She spun and pointed to the east. “That is a door right there,” she grinned, pointing to a pair of solid stone doors.

“Ah. Yes,” Marko nodded. “But is there a portal in here somewhere? A gateway to another realm?”

“I have never seen one,” Newmy frowned.

Marko nodded. “You clean here, and upstairs, but do you ever go through those doors?”

Newmy shrunk into herself at this, staring at the floor as if ashamed. “I…I don’t go through the doors…any more. The Dolindar’s buried down there…they…they aren’t resting right. I am afraid of them, I’m very sorry but I’m scared,” she finished with a whimper.

“That’s ok, it’s ok,” Marko said kindly. “Let’s talk about something else—what does that bit of paper say on the slab there?” he asked, pointing but averting his eyes.

“Well that says it is my room: ‘Newmy’s Room’ it say! That’s where I live,” Newmy said, regaining her equilibrium.

“Do you think it would be dangerous to look at the paper?”

“No, silly! I wrote it myself—I taught myself to write,” she said proudly.

Marko took breath, read the note, and didn’t die. “Right!” he beamed. “Tell me—do you feel bound to that room?”

“Bound? No? It is my room. I owe the Dolindar’s my service, multiple lifetimes worth.”

“Multiple? But you can only live one lifetime, surely?”

“Well when I died I came back, so I must continue to fulfil my duties,” Newmy explained patiently.

“I see—you are very good and loyal. May I look inside your room?” Marko asked hopefully.

Newmy crossed her arms and frowned. “Well it is my room,” she whined possessively.

“It is, and I would just like to admire it, that’s all. I’m sure you keep it very clean,” Marko said with his best charm.

“Hmmmmm,” Newmy said, rocking slightly. “Since you are so nice about how clean everything is you can have a very quick look.” She scooted to the cracked slab and stood beside it.

“May I open the door, my lady?” Marko asked.

“Noooo! I don’t want others coming in,” Newmy protested.

“I won’t let them,” Marko declared.

“But they might come in!”

“They won’t because I will close it again. These are my friends, they would never pry,” Marko said loudly. Three rolled his eyes.

“Not them,” Newmy said, but Marko missed the implication. He peered into the tiny room behind the stone slab. It was only five-feet wide and cluttered with neatly stacked rags, a larger broom, and a collection of bones.

“My dear are those your mortal remains?” Marko said, nodding toward the bones.

“I don’t think so? I don’t know where mine are. I just cleaned these and kept them safe,” Newmy said.

Marko stepped back. “Thank you for showing me. May I ask something? Do you want to reside in this realm, or would you like to ascend?”

Newmy hesitated. “I am a little lonely,” she confessed. “But my contract…”

“If your contract could be finalised and finished, would you like us to do that for you? I would like to set you free—it must be so lonely down here,” Marko said with a shudder as the intense isolation washed over him again.

“The Dolindar’s would not approve,” Newmy said sadly.

“Maybe we can address that with them directly,” Marko said, “I know you said they are very grumpy. Where are they?”

Newmy pointed silently at the double stone doors.

“Let us ask them while you rest in your room, if that is okay by you?” Marko said.

“You could, if you want to,” Newmy said quietly.

Eli stepped into the light. “Mister Marko, ask her which one holds her here.”

Marko nodded. “Is there a particular person who is in control of this place?”

“My contract was with Kevetta,” Newmy explained. “Kevetta and Parnell.”

“And are they beyond the doors here?” Eli said.

“Yes,” Newmy said shortly. “But they are not themselves.”

“What do you mean? Are they horrible now?”

Newmy started to shake and shrink. “They are not right! They…I….I….”

Seeing her distress, Eli jumped in. “Mister Marko. Their nature is apparent already. Anyone that would hold a soul on this plane beyond it’s time is someone that we need to take care of. A soul need to go beyond, and if those behind that door are holding her here then I entreat you to move forward!”

Marko nodded. “I agree. But Eli, before you open that door, is there anyone behind us we need to deal with first?” he said pointing around the room.

“Leave no door behind,” Eli mumbled like an incantation.

Marko turned to Newmy. “Before we leave, what are behind these slabs?”

“Nothing very good. I don’t like them.”

“Why don’t you like them?”

“They’re scary too,” she sighed.

“Are they held inside these doors?” Sifer piped up, “Can they come through them like you?”

“Yessss, some of them.”

“Which ones?”

“All of them.”

Sifer groaned.

“Bad things behind these doors too then?” Marko confirmed.

“Sometimes there is, sometimes there isn’t,” Newmy said.

“Newmy—does each one have a name?” Idris asked, crouching by the illegible script of the nearest slab.

“Once they did,” Newmy said, “But that was a long time ago.”

“I see. And if we go in to see the Dolindar’s, based on your past experience, are any of the occupants behind the doors in this room likely to become agitated?”

“Um. No-one has ever gone down there. So I don’t know. Maybe? They might not like it?”

“Ask her if there is any level below this,” Three asked. “There’s not in Neverwinter, but maybe things are different here.”

Newmy was about to answer Three, then looked back to Marko as he repeated the same question and answered. “Not that I have never seen. But I have not been through that door for a long time.”

“Are you able to pass through the floor?”

“Yes? But why would I, there’s nothing there?”

Marko looked over to Three who nodded and turned to the company. “In which case, if we’re reading this right, the most likely place the portal will be is through those doors. The only problem is, as Idris hinted, is that if we go through those doors every other door bursts open.”

“Or they don’t,” Idris shrugged. “Sifer is covering this room, though he will be isolated if they do.”

Sifer, standing now on the foot of the spiral stairs, nodded his understanding. “I take my strategic advantage,” he said thumbing up the stairs, “Or disadvantage,” nodding to the room of doors, “seriously.”

“You take your cowardice seriously,” Eli muttered.

“Born of experience,” Sifer said unperturbed by the slight. Imagining the undead horrors that may lay beyond he ruefully wished the company had visited Sangora’s market after all.

“Regardless of what’s inside,” Idris said, “If the occupants of the room past the door feel like talking at all, they may be worth having a conversation with. Given who they are and what we’ve heard about them.”

“Why don’t we just put our hand on the doorknob,” Eli said, resting his hand on the doorknob, such as it was.

Marko put a hand on Eli’s. “Let me look at the door mechanism first.” Eli nodded gravely and crouched to watch Marko at work. The fearless rogue could see these doors too would make a fair noise, so he squirted oil onto the heavy metal hinges. He turned to Newmy. “My Lady may I suggest you go to your room, just for a little while, whilst we have a conversation with those beyond this door.”

Newmy rested a weightless hand on Marko’s shoulder and squeezed. “Thank you. Be careful…they, they…be careful. I hope to see you again!”

“I will be, and I hope so too.”

She looked around the room one final time. “I hope they don’t come out…” she said as she floated through the stone into her alcove.

---

The doors opened with relative quiet thanks to Marko’s work and a breath of stale tomb-air wafted forth. Sifer was relieved to find the doors in Newmy’s tomb stayed firmly closed, allowing him to rejoin the party.

A smaller twenty by thirty room lay at the foot of a short stairway, covered in dust and detritus but otherwise empty. Newmy hadn’t lied about not visiting, it seemed.

Idris tossed more lightstones, revealing single stone doors leading north and south, and pair of double stone doors opposite. The double doors bore an inscription with each letter set into a separate embossed tile:

Marko moved to the southern door, oiling it quickly and pushing it open. He stepped down a short stairway to find an small vault containing six pedestals, each bearing what appeared to be random treasures: a pile of gold coins, a globe, a golden helmet, and more.

“This will work out well,” Uthar said over Marko’s shoulder. “I think we just grab it all and leave.”

Marko chuckled. He could see words engraved in the base of each pedestal. Without stepping into the room he could read only a few words: “treasures when”.

Marko stepped back into the main chamber. “There’s treasure down there. Can anyone sense if any are magic?”

“We have more important things to do than ‘treasure’,” Three protested.

“You’re right,” Marko nodded. He repeated his door work on the opposite and shoved it open, revealing another set of stairs leading to a larger, square room. Two stone coffins lay inside, both broken open, littering the floor with rubble and dust. Marko stepped to the threshold of the room and yelped. A creature with too many arms and spikes in place of hands shrieked from the darkness and charged toward Marko.

---

“To arms!” Marko cried as he sprinted to meet the beast, his mind almost buckling under the desperate isolation the creature radiated. His rapier plunged into it’s sunken chest with satisfying precision.

“Oh my lord!” Eli gasped, eyes wide when he laid eyes on the abomination. He joined Marko and belted it with his sword, kicking it in the belly for good measure. The creature continued screeching—like it was trying to talk but no longer had the capacity for anything but madness. Uthar added his blade to the melee, grim but efficient with his work. All three close rangers could feel how their blows were less telling than they should be—the creature’s hardened skin providing it some measure of protection.

Three stepped to the threshold of the room and frowned at the unholy creature. He called down the toll of Kelemvor, and the god of death’s name echoed around the room as the undead horror was judged. Unlike the cold steel of his companions, this caused the beast to buckle and shudder.

“Close that door,” Sifer called to Idris in the upper chamber.

“I’d rather see what’s coming,” Idris said, “And if they’re ghosts they can come through it anyway.”

“I’m just trying to keep the noise down,” Sifer shrugged, and joined the fight below. Two arrows flew between the combatants, piercing but not sinking into the creature. Idris joined him and three magic missiles followed the arrows, hitting rather more effectively. The creature’s shrieks were cut short as it crumpled into a mound of sinew and bone on the floor.

“Something terrible was done to the Dolindar’s,” Idris muttered.

Eli spun to Three. “Was that a person?”

Before Three could answer a second near identical beast erupted from the second coffin. It leapt over the room and plunged two spikes into Three. The first felt like it ruptured a kidney, the second added searing agony to the equation. It wrapped a third arm around Three to try and draw him into an embrace, seeking to end it’s loneliness. Despite his wounds, Three drew the creature in close, locking eyes and finding a deep insanity there, before wrenching himself free with a grunt: “You want someone, monster? You picked the wrong fucking guy!”

Marko turned his attention to the new arrival, his rapier continuing it’s merry dance, enhanced by his sneaky nature. Eli added his blade—and feet–to the equation, forcing the creature away with his bludgeoning power. Marko saw the opportunity to add an extra slash but in his enthusiasm the rapier caught the edge of the stone coffin and fumbled from his hand.

Uthar didn’t make the same mistake: his holy strike snapped sinew and tendon with unremitting force. Inspired, he added the radiant burn of his god to the follow up swings. Like the first creature, this one kept up an incessant chatter in a language that grated the souls of all who heard.

Clutching his side, Three walked determinedly toward the creature. He grabbed the undead monstrosity around the neck and drew it’s skull to meet his, an embrace equal parts love and hate: Kel-em-vorrrrr rang out once more as Three tolled the beast, shredding it into oblivion.

Eli was stunned by what he saw. Was that a spell…or something more. Three had undone the undead somehow. He crept forward and whispered in Three’s ear. “So were they…people?”

“It was, and I loved it, and it is gone,” Three said, staring at the remains.

“Donindar’s, once,” Idris nodded.

Eli rushed over to the other remains and laid his hands upon the bones, reciting a little prayer to send its soul to safety. Together with Three he lifted the bones into the coffins, both reciting burial rites to their respective gods.

“Who is this ‘Kelemvor’ you keep speaking of?” Eli asked nervously.

“Kelemvor is the god of—depending on how you interpret it—either of death, but more of the grave, more of the process of travelling from one reality to another,” Three explained patiently, quietly healing himself as he did. Eli nodded wisely, still in the dark. A portal god?

Idris scanned the detritus around the coffins, finding a tattered, leather-bound notebook below the near coffin. He picked it up and brushed the layers of grime on the cover, finding it very worn. He took a subconscious step back from his companions and cautiously opened the first page. Every page was scrawled with scrawled handwriting that was all but intelligible. Words were written on top of other words until the pages were covered and unreadable. Idris lent in, trying to extract even a few characters, looking to the edges of the page where the writing naturally trailed off. With some effort and concentration he found what he was looking for, his heart sinking when he realised what he read. One word, repeated ad-infinitum: Alone.

“This book is full of the word ‘Alone’,” he said softly, “That’s literally all that is in it.”

“That’s pretty sad,” Uthar said with genuine emotion.

“Some kind of curse?” Marko mumbled. “Let’s go check that treasure.” He and Uthar returned to the room, this time scanning each pedestal closely. The gold helmet seen earlier looking valuable but hardly practical. Neatly stacked gold coins stood nearby, as did a crystal-ball sized globe that appeared to have a map engraved in its surface. A fourth pedestal at the far side of the room held an impressive jewelled necklace, and the remaining two contained a book and small snow globe respectively.

“Whatever we pick here is going to be pretty bad, I suspect,” Marko said. “Any thoughts?”

“Uhhh,” Uthar said, lost for ideas.

“Can you tell if any are magical in nature?” Idris called from above.

Uthar nodded, saved from thought, and did so. “The necklace and globe,” he muttered. “Nothing else.”

“If you’re concerned about setting something off, you can leave the room and I can lift it from here,” Idris offered.

Uthar’s brain had engaged now. “What does this mean though? These things are obviously important to the family—are their six members, maybe?”

“It may just be that these are treasures entombed with them,” Idris shrugged, “With no other meaning.”

“Six you say? That’s one each,” Sifer called from above with a smirk.

“What does the inscription read on each pedestal?” Eli asked, returning to serious business.

Marko crouched down to read, finding each the same. He repeated it out loud: “What good are treasures when home is denied?”

Idris turned to Three. “They were exiled.”

“They were. But it could be…we’re looking for a way home ourselves,” Three mused. He felt unsure about the treasures. “The fact that two of them are magical…but we still have the main door to check.”

“I agree,” Uthar said, returning upstairs. “I think we should check the other rooms first. We might end up having to come back here to solve this, but not yet.”

“If we had no other doors I would suspect the globe,” Three added.

“Ok, let’s wait,” Marko declared, gathering everyone at the two stone doors with the inscription.

“Wait a moment,” Eli said. He returned to Newmy’s chamber stood before her room, averting his eyes respectfully. “There is nothing binding you here,” he said softly and with great kindness, “Your place is in the hereafter. Those that had you in their sway are gone. You can leave.”

“No, they’re not,” Newmy whispered sadly.

Eli stepped back in surprise. “But we killed them!”

“No. No you didn’t.”

---

Eli arrived back to find his companions studying the double door. “We didn’t kill them,” he announced. No-one reacted, which confused him. Did they already know?

Marko was oiling the hinges, as a routine. There were no handles or obvious ways to open the doors.

“Try pushing,” Eli suggested. Marko did but they did not budge. He looked up and the runes embossed on the door:

“It’s a puzzle, or trap,” Marko declared, pointing. “We need to solve that.”

Three groaned—puzzle solving was not his favourite thing. He turned and returned to the globe in the treasure room. He lent in to study the map, attempting to recognise what it represented. It was clearly representative rather than accurate, but he could not place it. And yet a map felt like an obvious connection to a portal or escape. “Mister Marko, do you know this map?”

Marko joined Three, but he too had no idea. Uthar, also not a puzzler, wandered down and understood a little more. “It reminds me of a map of other planes or existence or similar,” he said. “Not a literal map.” The globe was becoming mighty popular, Idris joining the study.

Idris immediately knew the map. “Oh! It’s a map of the gate towns of the Outland,” he said to blank looks. “The Outland is the central hub of the Great Wheel,” he explained, “Connecting all the Planes. We should take this—is the pedestal trapped?”

Marko checked, but it wasn’t obvious. “I’m not sure.” He checked another pedestal and thought it probably wasn’t.

“If we pick it up we may get teleported,” Three added, backing away, “But who knows where.”

Idris made a decision. “Step back,” he said, and everyone did. He used a summoned hand to lift the globe free…and there was no change to reality. He dropped it into his satchel, then quickly collected the book, necklace, snow globe and helmet. Seeing the looting underway, Sifer hustled down and scooped up the gold for good measure.

Idris glanced at the book cover: “Out of the Endless Prison”. Idris filed it for later study. He picked up the necklace, finding an inscription on the metalwork which he read aloud: “My breath is yours, Kevetta—take it. Ever yours, Parnell.”

“Kevetta and Parnell—those were the name Newmy spoke of as her ‘owners’,” Sifer said. “That necklace may be useful.”

Marko led the looters back upstairs where only Eli and Sifer remained, still studying the door. Eli glanced over to Idris who was securing his treasure sack. “May I take the snow globe?” He had always been fascinated by the tiny worlds they held. Idris floated it over. Inside was a tremendous (in Eli’s estimation) representation of Neverwinter. He was thrilled.

Chuffed, he turned back to the door and explained what he had been thinking. “If it’s a door puzzle,” Eli said, “Maybe we have to say something that will ‘return’ us? Either that or there’s some wordplay at work.”

“I was thinking the same thing, but I don’t think it’s a verbal puzzle,” Marko said. “Look at the letters—each is embossed. Perhaps you can press or push them inwards to engage a mechanism. Stand back!”

Before anyone could stop him, Marko pressed the ‘A’ in ‘Dolindar’. The entire word shrunk into the door to become flush with the stonework with a gentle clunk.

“What did you just press?” Idris asked.

“The ‘A’,” Marko pointed, “‘A’ for ‘Alone’, like was written in that book,” Marko grinned with satisfaction.

“Yes…” Eli said, on the verge of understanding. He too had thought of the book but hadn’t unravelled it.

“Of course,” Idris said, opening the scrawled journal. “And we’ve all felt the isolation down here. It makes sense—good call, Mister Marko!”

Sifer too saw the answer emerging. “You can cover all the words—one at a time. ‘Return’ is last.”

“Yes, yes,” Eli agreed, “If you use the ‘E’ in ‘Return’. I was trying to get them in order, that’s what I couldn’t do. But there’s no need as each is only present once.”

“Five letters in five words,” Idris confirmed, “So we can’t duplicate a letter in the same word.”

“It has to be ‘World’ next, for the ‘L’,” Eli said excitedly.

“And then the ‘O’ in ‘To’,” Sifer added, the solution rolling free now.

“Then the ‘N’ in ‘No, and ‘E’ in ‘Return’,” Idris finished.

Marko nodded as each letter was solved, then turned to the door. He pressed each in order, and with each the associated word sunk into the door with a satisfying clunk.

When the last word was flush all could here a mechanism releasing, and the doors settled slightly in their frames, a puff of long dead air breathing free. “Everyone step back,” Marko warned.

---

The room beyond bent sharply south and the visible area of floor was studded with a sharp metal blades the size of kitchen knives. Marko stepped just inside, hoping to see the far end without having to step into the blades, but he could see no further.

Marko clicked his heels together and floated into the air, allowing him to fly over the blades just below the low ceiling that pressed down threateningly given the proximity of the blades. He looked down the room and groaned. Two hideous creatures crouched in the semi-darkness.

Sitting atop an open stone coffin was a woman with a flowing dress and sallow skin. A broken smile crossed her face and she hissed longingly when she saw Marko, lifting two elongated arms which terminated in razor sharp blades.

---

Hulking in the corner nearby was another variation of the same horrors, this one with two heads, bulging fatty flesh, and arms that were terminated by ravenous hooks. On seeing Marko it lifted it’s bulbous form and let out a furious howling groan as it lumbered forth.

---

“Two more hideous things!” Marko yelled, “With hook hands and saw blades!”

“Male and female?” Sifer called.

“Yes! I think?! One has two heads!” Marko cried, firing at the woman (but missing) as he flew back to the safe corner.

“Parnell and Kevetta,” Sifer determined, “Idris—where’s the necklace? Get it out of the bag!”

“Back off and let them come out,” Idris yelled, hearing Sifer but not acting on his instruction. “Don’t go in there!”

Uthar half-obeyed—he didn’t want to leave Marko defenceless. He stepped in front of him, but not far enough to be visible. Marko hid behind Uthar’s hulking form. He felt a pulsing anger approaching and the lumbering beast emerged bellowing and howling. It wrapped it’s flesh hooks around Uthar, slicing deep into his flesh. Uthar reeled as the anger the creature emanated felt almost worse than the physical damage it inflicted.

Eli fired two impulsive shots into the creature. He had hoped the floor blades might have slowed the creature, but he could see it’s feet were already cut to shreds—the blades its natural habitat. Sifer gave himself every advantage and tried to follow suit, but his first shot flew well wide, such was his shock at the sight of the two headed beast. His second had more success.

Idris sensed this fight needed some extra salt. He summoned the Hadar’s Hunger once more, the Far Realms sending a dead-black sphere of unspeakable horrors into the room. Uthar and Marko flinched away from the whispers and slurping as the two undead were engulfed, enveloped in darkness, cold, and acid. For good measure he shunted the two-headed beast back into the field of death.

From inside the room the chattering shriek of the woman swelled over the top of the other whispering horrors. A moment later a spearing arm shot free of the sphere reaching for whatever they could find.

“She must be close!” Marko yelled, just before the razor sharp arm buried into his chest. With a panic he felt it a second arm try to wrench him toward the blackness, quickly squirming free before it could. The arm withdrew back into the darkness with a snap and hiss of sorrowful regret.

“They’re getting hurt while they’re in there,” Idris yelled, “Hold the line!”

Three was frustrated by the lack of vision, his powers wanting to see what they would impact. He backed away, standing just back from the open doorway, waiting for an opening. Uthar disengaged from the room, Marko following quickly behind after slashing wildly into the darkness but hitting nothing.

The visceral anger pushed forward again as the flesh beast emerged from the darkness. Eli staggered backwards as it lunged, rending his flesh with the first hook, the second opening a brutal wound in his thigh. Eli reacted fast, stepping with the wind toward the back of the room. He blindly fired his bow as he emerged, missing, his serenity shaken.

Sifer, standing by Eli, aimed true and hit hard, taking another step back as he did. In the middle of the room, Idris slid a tortuous sliver into the abomination and pushed it back into the Hadar field. Simultaneously he summoned a fireball which exploded in the centre of the knife room. A brief wave of heat was followed by a burping slurp and whooomp, after which the slurping whispers re-established themselves at the top of the hideous pecking order.

Despite Idris’s multiplying zones of destruction, the undead pair appeared to still be upright. With a shuddering shriek two warped and elongated arms shot out from the blackness. Much to everyone’s horror they continued extending thirty feet into the room beyond seeking their prey. The first found Eli again, adding further tears to his seeping wounds, but unable to find purchase to yank him thanks to the leaking gore.

The second sliced into Three’s abdomen, and this one did find purchase. It wrapped around his waist and hauled him bodily across the room, vanishing into the darkness of Hadar’s horror.

“That was a shame, I liked him,” Sifer quipped, humour the only way he could cope with the impending horror.

---

The Death of Three

In the inky blackness of Hadar’s Hunger, Three was drawn into Kevetta’s desperately sorrowful embrace, her spiritual desolation overwhelming his every sense. He struggled mightily against her great need but now she had someone she was never letting go.

And nor was her husband.

Three sensed the raging heat and surging fury of the two-headed monstrosity approaching him from behind. He was defenceless in Kevetta’s arms, no chance to turn or brace. He tensed as the first slicing hook rent his armour, then collapsed when the second tore the life from him.

Outside everyone heard Three’s agonised scream cut suddenly short. Uthar was already in motion toward Eli who was gouged and gushing, and quickly decided to deal with the living before the potential dead. Eli ripped his shirtfront open to allow Uthar’s hands to be laid thereon, drawing him back from the brink of death.

“What happens in conflict stays in conflict,” Sifer muttered.

Uthar spun to face the black and hurled his hammer, more in hope than intent. It vanished into the nothingness with no grunt or reaction from within. Eli, newly recovered, climbed to his feet and fired twin arrows into the general vicinity of Parnell, but his arrows too seemed only to crack into stone.

Sifer cursed from his vantage and tried his luck. And he was rewarded with a snort and grunt from inside the black sphere. “I want some of that!” Eli groaned.

Idris grimaced. With Three in the mess of Hadar he knew it had to drop. In an instant the carnage was laid bare: Three face-down on a blood-soaked floor in the field of blades, Parnell tearing arrows from his bulging flesh as he turned to face his attackers. And Kevetta, finally revealed in all her glory—razor sharp blackened teeth seeping ichor, hair like tentacles writhing from her pallid face, eyes that glimmered with hunger and malice, and two arms that seemed to stretch into eternity.

None of which disturbed Idris. He inserted a sorcerous burst into Parnell’s mind, causing him to howl with confusion. In the distraction Idris caused the space around Three’s fallen body to distort in a twisting void. A moment later Three was lying at Uthar’s feet, thirty feet away.

It was Kevetta’s turn to howl in frustration, losing her newfound love. Her arms shot across the room seeing new victims, grasping for Uthar and Marko. Uthar crashed his shield into the approaching limb, fending it off, but Marko was less lucky, his size making her job that much easier. He shrieked—most out of character for a legend of Stormwatch—as Kevetta’s arm wrapped around his waist and jerked him back across the room toward her.

Uthar immediately sprinted toward Parnell, knowing if he struck Marko it could mean the end. He called on his god’s favour to inspire his strikes with the inspiration of his colleagues, and crunching the foul creature with a smiting blow. He turned his baleful gaze on the Dolindar elders and put them under the bane of his lord.

Marko reacted fast, slipping free of Kevetta’s doleful hug as she reacted to Uthar. He moved over to Uthar, sheltering behind his bulk as Parnell went to work on the Paladin. Uthar raised his shield and weapon to parry and absorb each crashing hook. To Marko it seemed like light was leaking from Uthar’s armour and shield as he stood his ground.

Eli, having been saved himself, knew he had to do the same for Three. He dashed to the rapidly fading priest, fearing the worst. He pulled out his most potent potion and gently, gently, drained it into Three’s bruised and torn mouth. He held his breath for a moment, then let it out with relief when Three’s eyes flickered open. Eli met Three’s gaze, flinching when he saw a great darkness within—no, no, he was mistake, Three was there, Three was back! Eli muttered a soft prayer and withdrew to safety, job done.

As Eli scurried, Sifer lifted his bow once more. Eli shook his head as the first shot flew well wide. “You’re not even trying,” he hissed with a reproachful look. Sifer snorted, then buried his second shot deep into Parnell’s chest. Uthar and Marko almost grinned when they saw the wound the piercing arrow had created…maybe this was nearly over.

No sooner had they had that thought than both suddenly felt their skull being squeezed as a wave of psychic pressure boomed from within the room of knives. For a moment Their smiles grew as they realised it was Idris digging once more into his bag of tricks. Both Dolindar’s shuddered and grabbed their many heads as they tried to tear free whatever it was that got inside, deeply in the impact zone of psychic terror.

Kevetta, the smarter of the two, recovered quickest, though her face was wracked with suffering. She reached an arm toward Marko, but it was way off target, crashing into the ceiling well above the diminutive thief. The second arm was similarly ineffective, smacking into the wall behind Uthar. Kevetta shrieked and snapped her head again as Idris’s mind worms kept digging.

Uthar pressed the advantage. He saw the only thing holding Parnell together was his anger and that was not enough. His blows struck with brutal and radiant beauty, the two heads bellowing nonsensically as death approached. Death which Marko delivered with an rammed upward thrust of his rapier, Parnell’s groin rent, his foul insides flooding to the floor as with a sloughing slubbering groan Parnell Dolindar fell. Kevetta, seeing her husband fall, let out a keening wail that joined her otherworldly mumbled madness.

Three found himself again as he roused. He instinctively healed himself, then started a garbled prayer as he stood. Eli, nearby, heard the confusion and difference in his tone: it was a prayer to the multiverse, a prayer for living. He squeezed Three’s shoulder and stood, aiming his bow at Kevetta. The bolt lodged into her shoulder with a satisfying chunk.

Three’s felt something resting on his other shoulder. Sifer’s aiming hand rested solidly there, and with a deafening twang he fired his bow, skimming what was left of Three’s good ear. “Ooo,” Sifer whispered into that same ear as the arrow landed true, ripping open Kevetta’s neck. She joined her husband on the cold stone floor, impaled on her own knives.

The Dolindar family were no more.

---

“Well that was awful,” Eli sighed, watching Three with concern.

“Just clarifying, why are we here?” Sifer said, stowing his bow.

“We’re trying to get home,” Uthar muttered. He toed the lump of flesh at his feet, relieved to see it stayed dead.

“And this was the last room,” Idris said, looking to Marko who pulled out the wand he had used upstairs. “Nothing,” Marko reported, “No secret doors, no traps.”

Marko, Sifer, and Idris carefully walked through the room to the coffin upon which Kevetta had been perched. Her name was engraved atop, and a likeness was carved into the heavy stone lid. She looked far better in life than she had in death. The lid was slightly ajar and a purple glow was emitting from within.

“That’s the same colour as the arcane explosion that brought us here,” Marko observed. “Before you lift the lid further let me check the coffin.” He quickly ran his hands around the stonework, finding not a trap but another journal slipped between the stonework under the coffin. He scanned it quickly—unlike the other journal, this contained more than a single word. He tucked it into his belt for further study; there was something more important to do first. He headed out of the room. “The coffin is safe,” he added over his shoulder.

“Sifer, help me move the lid,” Idris said, and together they lifted the solid covering free. Inside the coffin was a roiling swirl of silvery-purple energy. Sifer grinned and clapped Idris on the shoulder.

Three walked slowly into the room, followed by Eli. He crouched over the mound of flesh that was once Parnell and started to whisper with an intensity that made young Eli step back and away. Three’s face slowly twisted as he intoned his words, fearful in it’s focus, a prayer of atonement so that Parnell’s soul would go where it should. He could almost see the anger still resident in the misshapen flesh that had felled him.

He turned his attention to Kevetta with the same singular intent. Eli watched reverently, hoping to learn from Three’s wisdom and experience. He was slightly shaken by how much emotion Three put into the ritual: it almost felt like rage, like hate, discordant but determined. But Eli knew Three was not that man. No, Three burned with love, which, Eli reflected, could so often be confused with the other. Putting the Dolindar’s to rest could be no easy feat, and Three was using his all to ensure they were. Eli offered a silent prayer of his own, a small token to Three’s endeavour.

As Three finished he turned her body over. He frowned as he saw something embedded in her chest, a lump that jutted from her translucent flesh. A scalpel-like dagger appeared instantly in his hand and he used it to cut a precision incision along the object. Eli sat up with surprise.

Three reached into the cavity and withdrew a four-inch piece of emerald-green crystal embedded in a metal plate. He wiped it clean and held it aloft. “I found something,” he announced to the room. He was covered in blood, his hair slicked back with their remains. But it was what he held that drew everyone’s attention.

---

The crystal was etched with arcane symbols and fitted snugly into the fine metalwork that held it. Three didn’t recognise the symbols, nor could he find any religious significance. It was too practical an object to be symbolic. “Some weird magic,” he shrugged.

“It looks like it plugs into something,” Uthar said, pointing out the base of the metal where the crystals emerged in precise square shards, drawing a nod from Three.

“It looks like it shouldn’t be in someone’s chest,” Sifer snorted.

“And it wasn’t plugged into her bone structure, was it?” Eli said.

“No. It was within her, but not connected, not feeding her,” Three explained. Having seen enough, he passed it over to Idris’s waiting arcane hand.

“Good find, Three. We could easily have missed this. On another note, I think we may have found a way out,” Idris smiled. “Based on the way we arrived here, inside that coffin is where we need to go to leave. Sangora was as good as her word.”

“That’s slightly surprising,” Uthar said.

“I see no reason to mistrust her,” Eli said, scratching his neck.

---

In the entry hall, Marko knocked gently on Newmy’s door.

“Who’s there?” she whispered.

“It’s me, Marko. It’s all over,” Marko announced happily.

“You’re still alive! What’s all over?”

“The family has gone, but I need to—”

“Wait! You’re right…they have gone,” Newmy said with wonder, “All of them.”

“Can you come out please?” he asked, Marko asked flipping through the book. Newmy ghosted through the door to her room, smiling shyly. Marko grinned. “Can you read this?” he said, showing the open book.

“No. I can’t read much, just a few words.”

“Oh. Never mind. Are you free, now?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

“I think so. They are dead, after all. I think you can go. Wherever you like.”

Newmy looked around the dim room. “Where would I go? I like cleaning, but I have been here a long time.”

“Well why don’t you come to the real world with us?” Marko said kindly.

“Do you think I belong in the real world?” she said, floating through Marko. “When I was alive I couldn’t do that.”

Marko scratched his head. “No…you are dead. But there’s no reason…” he felt suddenly out of his depth. “Come with me and we’ll talk to the others. They know more about this stuff.”

Newmy followed but stopped on the threshold of the room.

“Are you bound up there?” Marko asked.

“No…I’m scared.”

“They’re gone, you’re quite safe. We fought them, they’re dead. Dead dead.”

Newmy swallowed and took a step forward, then another, compulsively starting to sweep as she did. Then she saw the bodies of Kevetta and Parnell and held a hand up to her mouth in shock. “Is that what they turned into?” she whispered.

Everyone turned as she entered the room, floating high against the ceiling to keep away from the bodies. “Will they come back to life?” she asked fearfully.

“No, I don’t think so,” Three said with some finality.

“You have freed me,” she said looking around the company. “I…I…thank you.”

“That’s right. Your time on this plane is gone. You must ascend,” Eli declared piously.

“Ascend to…?”

“The heavens! That await you.”

“She can come back with us if she wants,” Marko interrupted.

“No Mister Marko!” Eli cried fervently, “She cannot! She must ascend!”

“Why?”

“It is not right!”

“If she doesn’t want to ‘ascend’, and it doesn’t’ sound like she does, she can come with us instead.”

“Actually I would like to ascend,” Newmy announced, “But I don’t know how?”

“Find it in your soul and heaven will find you,” Eli stressed.

“But how? How do I find it?”

“Look deeply!”

“What am I looking for?”

Idris knew whose job this was. “Three?” he said simply.

Three nodded firmly. “I can do something to put you to rest. If you take me to your body I can let you go to rest.”

“I don’t want to rest, I want to ascend,” Newmy said.

“Yes. I will help you ascend. My god will send you to your proper place,” Three offered.

“Is that right?” Newmy said with a longing look at Eli.

“Brother Three is the authority on these things. You must bow to his wisdom in these matters. I know no other that can help you more than he,” Eli said passionately.

“I will do it,” Newmy announced. “I trust you, I trust all of you. I cannot believe that my service is over…” she trailed off, tears flowing.

“Show me to your remains,” Three said softly.

“You said there were somewhere else?” Marko said, “We can take you there.”

“I…” she looked over to Marko, “I’m sorry but I lied before. The bones in my room are mine. I didn’t want you to take them.”

Marko smiled. “That’s fine, Newmy.”

Newmy led the company back to her tiny room.

“Newmy—travel well,” Idris smiled. He found her adorable, for a ghost. “All will be well.”

“You too,” Newmy grinned, “I hope you have found your portal.”

“We’ll find out soon!”

Three collected the bones, preparing them for gentle repose. He departed her soul from this realm with formal intonation, Eli seeing the anger from before now gone, replaced by the soulful worship for his work that Eli so admired.

As the ceremony reached it’s conclusion, Three reached his hands to Newmy’s. There was a fleeting spark, the barest static energy between the two. Newmy gasped, jerking her face to the heavens, then vanished.

Just before she disappeared Eli saw her eyes widen and light up with what she saw was to come. He wiped a tear from his face.

---

“That was very good Three, thank you for doing that,” Marko said with genuine emotion.

“Well done, Master,” Eli concurred. Three waved away the compliments as his companions prepared to use what everyone hoped was the portal back to Neverwinter.

Marko spent the short time speed reading the journal. “This is the story of the Dolindar’s claim on the throne,” he announced, to general interest. “But it is written from their perspective—so more than slightly unbalanced: ‘we are the true heirs, Neverember is the great pretender, blah blah’.”

The more Marko read, the more crazed the ravings became. In their hunger to enforce the self-evident (to them) truth of their claim, the Dolindar’s started planning to make undead thralls of their ancestors by trapping their souls at the moment of their deaths, intending to create an army to overthrow the pretender. They took ever more bodies from Neverdeath to experiment on. They claimed they killed no one, but practiced a corrupted necromancy so extreme that they were banished, and all records of the family expunged.

“Is this genuine, or are they psychopaths that have come up with their own story?” Marko asked the company. “It starts out sounding plausible, if unlikely, but is really off the rails by the end. An army of undead ancestors—that never works,” he grinned.

“We could compare this to what Indrina found,” Three said, “If we can find her. She said she was going to gather her evidence and vanish until the time was right—hide from Neverember.”

“The start of the story suggests they went, ‘well first we need a portal’ to get to another plane,” Sifer said, nodding toward the coffin. “Although their method was madness, it doesn’t mean their claim to the throne wasn’t legitimate.”

“But the were evil,” Marko said. “And even if the current king is not the real king…there’s no Dolindar’s left. So this is pretty useless,” he said, holding the journal up.

Idris nodded. “Dagult has his foibles, but he’s a good ruler of Neverwinter. And he’s been very kind to me and mine.”

“That’s all I really care about,” Marko said. “Good enough for me. It’s not worth pursuing this. We don’t want to tell Indrina she’s right, nor cause trouble.”

“We do if we want Vecna to have one less secret,” Eli said suddenly (this whispers rising as he spoke His name).

Marko scratched his head, not sure what Eli was saying. “Well why don’t we give Neverember the book? Tell him to dispose of it.”

“I’m not the brains trust here—but you’re not throwing away the book, are you?” Sifer said wryly.

“Keep it for now until we know exactly what’s happening,” Three agreed.

“Leverage,” Marko nodded, handing the book to Three.

“Done,” Idris said, “Are we ready to leave?”

“Let’s go,” Marko said, hopping into the portal.

“See you on the other side,” Idris grinned.

---

Neverwinter

“We’re back,” Three announced with relief immediately after he stepped through. “I can sense this is Neverdeath graveyard.” He could see the skies of Neverwinter through the ruined roof of the non-descript tomb.

“And is this the Dolindar tomb but on the other side?” Eli asked.

“No, I don’t know this tomb.” Three was mildly surprised by this, but then there were many, many abandoned graves in the pauper’s cemetery, and this must be one of them. He wiped away the grime covering a faded carving above the door lintel: “Home Again, to Rest Forever,' he read. He rubbed it twice, by habit, to cleanse it.

Idris hopped atop a collapsed tomb to survey the skyline. Seeing familiar cathedral towers and the spire of Lord Neverember’s castle, he drew a deep breath. Home.

“Well gentlemen,” Sifer said, “Don’t we have a quest to resolve with Neverember?”

“Absolutely,” Idris nodded. “We freed the people—well we freed three of the four. The last was unfortunately sacrificed by the cult…”

“I remember that,” Sifer said, inclining his head. His arrow had killed Eldon Keyward, but he was confident it had been the right thing to do. Once made, a good soldier did not question his decisions.

“Unless you want to get into a big song and dance about what we’re actually doing in Neverwinter, and why, it’s probably expedient that that’s the story we go with for now.”

Three frowned. “Do we say that three were rescued? Because the actress, Indrina, made it pretty clear she was going to hide out because of what she knew. ‘Better you don’t know where,’ she said. So should we say we only rescued two?”

“I have no problem doing that,” Idris said. “We found two prisoners, killed all the cultists, the third prisoner died during a ceremony that sent us to the Shadowfell. And we don’t know what happened to the fourth.”

Sifer felt confused. “I’m sorry, and again it’s not for me to say, but surely the bigger story here is that we found out the whole world is in peril, immersed in a cult that’s led by he who shall not be named, and being fed with secrets.”

“I guess so,” Three said, “But how much will these people be able to process?”

“Are you suggesting that it is only us who are going to resolve this?”

“It does seem like there was a reason the archmage spell selected us,” Three shrugged.

“Surely if that spell chose us then no matter what we do we will end up in that confrontation,” Sifer said. “So how do we get back to Mordenkainen to report what we have found?”

“I would assume he will contact us when he feels he needs to,” Idris said. “In the meantime we should go see Neverember.”

“After a bath,” Three said. He was entirely covered in the remains of the Dolindar’s, and the remnants of his own wounds.

“I can clean you up,” Idris said, and after a nod from Three he did so. In a matter of moments Three was as good as new and entirely presentable, though there was nothing to be done about his misshapen features.

---

A company of Neverember’s guards found the company before they could leave the graveyards. “You live!” they cried, quickly communicating that Lord Neverember had been urgently seeking them. “He was afraid you had been killed,” the guards explained.

“Not likely,” Idris said with a laugh.

“They did kill me,” Three interjected.

“He got better,” Idris winked, concerned at what the guard may make of this.

“Master Cooper,” Eli said reverently, “If God had a chance to embrace you into his arms, he would never have let go.”

Everyone was speechless for a moment, except Three who smiled his terrible smile.

The guards escorted the group back to Neverember’s summer house by the lake, the same place as the first meeting.

“Terrific, terrific!” Lord Neverember exclaimed. “We had feared the mission had gone awry, but here you are, hale and hearty! Congratulations are in order, I presume?”

“Absolutely,” Idris smiled.

“Very good! We know that Flukespan, the small halfling woman, she got out—”

“Not a woman!” Marko interrupted forcefully.

“She’s not? Oh.”

“A male.”

“Of uncommon pulchritude,” Idris grinned.

Dagult stared at Marko, then shrugged. “Well if the great Mr Marko says it is so, then it is so: Flukespan is a man. In any case, I heard he had been freed, and Sarcelle also which is just wonderful. What of the other two? Eldon and Indrina who I am particularly concerned—”

“Oh they—” Three started instinctively before cutting himself short just in time at a glare from Idris.

“Unfortunately, Lord Neverember, while we did manage to forcibly disband another group of cultists,” Idris quickly said, glancing to Kevori who nodded her appreciation, “Unfortunately Eldon was…sacrificed. We couldn’t get to him in time. In a ritual that had the side effect of sending us to the Shadowfell and a dark counterpart of the city.” Idris watched Neverember closely as he spoke.

“Oh, the ‘Shadowfell’, ha, a silly rumour—let’s not speak of that,” Neverember stumbled out. “What, a ‘shadow’ version of Neverwinter? Absurd!” he laughed, as, obediently, did his gathered sycophants. All but Kevroi, who remained stone-faced.

Idris saw straight through the obfuscation, but wasn’t here to cause a fuss. “Of course, my Lord. Well, in any case we were waylaid.”

“That explains the delay—and you say Eldon was killed? I’m terribly sad to hear that,” Neverember said studying his nails, clearly not at all sad. “And,” he added, looking directly at Three, “Indrina? What of Indrina?”

Three looked blank, turning to Marko who jumped into the gap. “No, unfortunately another death, a tragedy, or as far as we could tell. There were a lot of bodies,” Marko explained.

“She’s dead?” Lord Neverember said, still staring at Three.

“They sacrificed people,” Three explained, meeting his gaze.

“We went through the whole place,” Idris added.

“None lived,” Sifer added, laying it on thick.

“Eldon Keyward’s death was very obvious to us, but for the rest—we rescued who we could,” Marko concluded.

“Well as long as Ind—I mean, if Indrina’s dead it is a great shame,” Neverember recovered. “She was a wonderful actress, it is a great loss for the city; such a talent. I remember when she played…but I won’t bore you. We will mourn her,” he finished, again looking directly at Three.

Three swallowed and nodded slowly, “Yes.” He knew Neverember was hiding his knowledge of Evernight, but followed the lead set by his companions.

“Well. Two out of four—not great, but not terrible.”

“Well we stopped…they were going to do something!” Three stressed.

“I think the main take home, Lord Neverember, is that we quashed a cult operating in in your province,” Idris explained rather more clearly.

“You’re quite right, that is absolutely important. I had rather buried that fact in my concern for our missing citizens,” Neverember smarmed, “Thank you very much for doing so. A magnificent act of great bravery and I would reward you for this selfless act. As it happens the families of the missing have contributed to this reward to make it even more valuable to you: 5000gp per person rescued is what we settled on. So that is 10,000 total. And you tell me two have sadly perished, so let’s split the difference on that: 2500 per death, so another 5000. Which takes us to fifteen thousand gold to you!”

Most of the party were lost in the calculations as Neverember spooled them out—he had a head for numbers it seemed—but the total was not lost on anyone.

“That is a lot,” Uthar muttered, no a nod from Sifer. To mercenaries this was a handsome sum for two days work.

“That is very generous,” Idris said, bowing his head, “We certainly appreciate the city and your acknowledgement.”

Three saw Neverember raise an eyebrow at this. Clearly he was surprised at the immediately acceptance—the total was nothing to him, and Three suspected it had all come from the families' pockets. Marko too realised immediately a lot had been left on the table.

“Tremendous. Now there was one other thing,” Neverember said feigning thinking hard. “Oh yes! Mordenkainen has been hounding me, in quite a flap, insisting I contact him the moment you appeared. I must say I rather forgot to tell you this in my excitement to give you the good news. In any case, I have taken the liberty to let him know and I expect him at any moment.”

“Of course,” Marko nodded.

“Good, good. While we wait—Three, may we have a quiet word?”

Three flushed, but stepped forward and walked away with Neverember. Sifer watched closely. Three was the one who had escorted Indrina to freedom and made sure she was safe, with Sifer’s help. He was confident Three wouldn’t say the wrong thing now, and the smile on Neverember’s face seemed to confirm that. For whatever reason the Lord Protector wasn’t too upset that Indrina was gone.

While Three talked, Marko turned to his companions. “I have a question about that portal. If we got that coffin from Evernight and moved it somewhere useful, could we travel back and forth to this plane?”

“Why would we ever go again?” Eli said, raising his voice and rubbing the two fang-scars on his neck. He never wanted to go back there.

“I’m not an expert on such matters,” Idris said thoughtfully, “But one way portals certainly exist—they don’t have to go both ways. It’s my understanding there are sages further south in Candlekeep that are very conversant in planar travel. Mordenkainen too, no doubt.”

“Eldon, from memory, was an expert in this stuff—a planar scholar. So do you think he created the portal?”

“It’s possible a side effect of his death, the interruption of the ceremony, may have opened a portal.”

“You mean that was what sent us to the Shadowfell?” Sifer said to a nod.

“But if that was his background, did the cult capture him for that reason?” Marko said.

Idris nodded. “He was captured because he knew something.”

“But we didn’t find out what that secret was, did we?”

“No we did not. But whatever the secret was I suspect it was a big one. I think.”

“It was right when he died that we got the vision of the different cults,” Sifer said.

“In any case, do I think it is practical to go back there and recover the coffin? No.”

Three re-joined the party, his face unreadable, unlike Dagult who was positively beaming as he talked with his people. Before Three could explain anything, a portal shimmered into existence at the far end of the garden. An illusionary Mordenkainen stepped through, waving encouragement. “There is no time to waste, hurry now!”

Idris sighed, looked to Marko who nodded, and the company stepped through the portal.

---

Sessions played: February 3, 17, 24, March 3 2025

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