---

The company stepped out to a clifftop towering hundreds of feet over a beach, beyond which boiled a sea of kaleidoscopic clouds and screaming winds. On the beach an ancient stone redoubt sat half-consumed by the sea, the howling winds carrying a fog that made judging the distance difficult.

---

An enormous battle was underway around the ruined citadel and the beach below; thousands of combatants tearing each other to shreds. Most of them seemed to be…spyders?

A war between hordes of demonic combatants: driders and monstrous spyders surged against enormous arachnids with the heads of wolves that defended the ruined redoubt. The attackers bore banners featuring a spyder with a woman’s head, whilst the defenders stream banners with snarling wolf heads.

Corpses of many-legged horrors lie strewn across the beachhead, the largest corpse a massive spyder with ichor oozing from holes in its carapace. Smaller, but still huge, spyders were busy hollowing out the corpse.

“Nice day for it,” Idris said drawing in a long breath.

“Do we have a side in this war?” Uthar asked, encouraging the company to crouch to be out of sight of the combatants.

“The half-elf half-spyders are the forces of Lolth, the demon-goddess of the Drow,” Idris declared. “And I would hazard the wolf-heads are former minions or devotees of Miska.”

“We could get them on board if we promise to let the Wolf-spyder out,” Eli mused. “Maybe completing the Rod will free him?”

Idris rolled his eyes. “You cannot get either of these factions ‘on-board’. War is all they do.” Looking down at the carnage and chaos, Idris did however draw the Rod from his belt. Holding it aloft, it pulsed with need and angled directly toward the ruins on the shores of the multi-hued sea.

“We didn’t need the Rod to know that. We could just take the portal back?” Three joked weakly.

“The wind and fog makes it hard to judge how far. Somewhere from three to five miles?” Idris guessed. “I can teleport us there in an instant.”

“We cannot fight through that,” Uthar nodded toward the battle. “It’s not a mess we want anything to do with.”

“And I can’t see the point of even trying,” Sifer agreed.

“Idris—get us there,” Three commanded.

“Please,” Eli muttered.

“We’re long past that, Eli.”

---

The citadel stood on the beach at the precipice of the Ruinous Sea, a ruin that the sea’s chaotic energies would someday claim entirely. The company landed in a dead-zone between the fortress and the fighting, but were immediately swarmed by a half-dozen skittering halfling-sized mutant spyders that were standing guard.

---

“Kelemvor!” Three cried immediately, relieved when the fateful toll sounded true, for he had feared the gods may not be present in the chaos of Pandesmos. The battle was drawn, and through some unspoken agreement the company held their more powerful abilities in check, intending to whittle this enemy down before facing stiffer foes. “Target reduction, people,” Sifer reminded everyone.

As a result, the fight took far longer that was comfortable. Additional spyder-fiends occasionally joined the melee, webbing their victims and reeling them in, but eventually the way was cleared. “That was harder than expected,” Uthar muttered with some trepidation for what lay ahead. “We need to get inside before drawing more attention.”

---

Marko examined the two stone-doors as Three healed the wounded. “There’s something marked on this door,” Marko mumbled. “I can’t see it, but I can feel it.” He tried his best to follow it, going as far as using his Vecna-granted invisibility sight, but it was a struggle. “It’s magic is all I am sure of.”

“Could it be a ward?” Three asked.

“It could,” Marko shrugged, “But it’s moving under my touch as if avoiding me.”

“I can use Truesight,” Three said. “Something I have recently learnt.” He stepped forward and stared, sweat breaking out on his brow with the effort, before shaking his head. “Nothing. But something’s not right,” he added, gasping for breath as he struggled to hide the pain welling in his fresh eye from his companions.

“There might be another way in?” Eli said, and almost immediately Marko and Sifer scuttled up on the rooftop. “It’s sealed everywhere,” Sifer reported quickly.

“There’s no time,” Uthar warned. “It’s probably a trap but we need to keep moving.”

The company stepped to the side to allow Marko to take the brunt of whatever might happen. He pushed the heavy doors open, each grinding noisily due to sand in the hinges. As he shove a glyph of a wolf’s head glowed for a split second and a crushing horror subsumed his thoughts. He staggered but recovered quickly, waving the company inside.

Inside webs stretched from wall-to-wall along an entry corridor, populated by two enormous demons with crablike spyder bodies and wolflike heads flanking the way ahead.

---

“I wish we had a bigger fireball,” Marko muttered as the spyders scuttled forward and the company moved inside—all but Sifer who stayed out to monitor potential back markers. It was difficult going with the thick webs, and Idris, after thundering the two fiends, found himself bound and stunned after one of the spyder’s slashed him. To the dismay of all a firebolt from Three failed to igite the webbing, but eventually the company again managed to hold most of their power back and still defeat the pair of fiends. Sifer’s mistake of staying outside cost him when another of the smaller spyder’s reeled him, but he managed to scrabble inside and slam the doors closed.

“That poison hurts,” Idris groaned as he came back to his senses.

Once done, Three studied the walls of the corridor, which were adorned with old carvings of monstrous, tentacled beings. More recently, wolf heads had been painted with ichor over each figure. “This was a temple for something old,” he said nervously. “And Miska’s forces have defiled it.”

Marko led the way, silently rounding a corner into an empty hall decorated with more ichor-smeared drawings of wolf heads. Cracks in the seaward wall allowed the kaleidoscopic light of the ocean beyond to wash over the walls. Ahead were four sets of doors, all closed.

“Mister Marko, not too far ahead please,” Uthar warned.

The nearest stone doors held faded tracings of the same glyph that protected the entrance. “This one has already been set off,” Marko whispered.

As Uthar approached he suddenly drew to a halt. The sword had woken. “Something is here.”

“What?” Uthar asked reluctantly.

“Draw me!”

Uthar struggled to keep his hand from the hilt of the blade strapped to his back. The sword was so hungry.

“Do not take the risk—draw me now!”

Uthar drew.

“Uthar! No!!” Three urged.

It was too late. The sword flashed free, Uthar’s grip tight, and his eyes shone with intent. “Finallllyy,” the sword whispered as Uthar felt the wash of cold relief. “There are two…choose!”

“Guide me—which way?”

The sword tugged first toward the far north-eastern doors, then swung back toward the ocean wall where Three stood aghast.

“I’m confused,” Uthar muttered, aloud this time.

“As am I, how can there be two? Choose. Feed me!”

Uthar met Three’s eye, and Three pointed to the bag at his waist. “The hand! It senses the Hand—be careful. It is a false lure.”

“That would explain it,” Sifer agreed.

Uthar understood, remembering how the blade had hungered for Arkhan when he wore the Hand. With a nod he turned and started toward the northern doors.

“Marko!” Sifer hissed, nodding toward Uthar.

“Uthar! Where are you going?” Marko called.

“There’s something we need to get, and it’s this way,” Uthar urged, Kas’s blade held aloft and ready. He hurried toward the middle-door, misunderstanding the sword’s direction.

“This might be a good thing,” Three said more out of hope that belief as he watched Uthar’s demeanour change.

“It is a good thing,” Uthar declared, not a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Idris laid his hand on the Rod, hoping for direction, but though it was indirect the next piece near. “The Rod piece is very close,” he whispered. “Red—is everything ok?” he said inside Uthar’s head.

“It’s hard…but I think I can make this work,” Uthar said after an uncomfortable pause. He wasn’t sure if it was he or the sword who had answered. It wasn’t ok but he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, admit that. No-one else was ready…or worthy…to bear the weapon.

“Good enough for me.”

Marko had sprinted ahead of Uthar to check the door he was inexorably heading for.

A growing bloodlust was consuming Uthar, the sword insistent: “Hurry, feed me, feed me blood!” Uthar shoved the doors open over Marko’s head. The room beyond was covered in thick webbing, with lumpy shapes bound in spun-cocoons. To his surprise he felt the lust suddenly drain, the crescendo having been passed, and the sword itself seemed to take a breath and calm.

“We hunt…we hunt,” is whispered with satisfaction, “Vecna…is near.” Uthar glanced at Three and the dangling Hand at his waist. “He’s close,” he whispered.

“Be careful,” Three repeated, “I don’t want the sword coming at me.” Three held his new hand close to his belt, hoping to confuse the blade and his transformation.”

“Uthar what are you doing?” Marko piped up. “Never open a door before I clear the way.”

“I’m hunting,” Uthar growled. He was hungry too.

“That’s not how we do things,” Marko insisted.

Eli stepped over to look inside. He flinched when one of the webbed victims seemed to shift slightly. Closer observation showed that all were alive, if only just.

“We’ve got to help them,” Three said.

“I agree,” Marko said stepping inside the room.

Idris shook his head. “No. What is going to be here, in this place, that needs to be released?”

“What if they are victims brought here for food?” Three suggested.

“Logically these should be Lolth worshippers,” Idris said, considering. “But…it might be worth cutting open one.”

“The little one at the back,” Marko suggested.

“No a close one,” Sifer insisted. “We don’t want to get trapped in here.”

Uthar stepped forward and slashed with the blade, still held tightly in his hand. “This is a waste of me,” it hissed as a large spyder-fiend with a female elvish torso splattered to the floor, unconscious but alive.

“Just kill it,” Three shrugged, and Uthar and the sword did. “This is below us,” the sword scowled. As it voiced it’s displeasure, the doors opposite sprung open and three spyders scuttled forth.

---

Uthar was on them almost before he knew it, the sword flashing unerringly before him. As it bit into the flesh of the largest fiend the sword glowered with delight. Two swings of unadulterated lust, an long hunger finally fed. “More…more!”

The company obliged, piling in on the trio…all except Idris, who, as the battle continued, found himself suddenly ravenous. He spun and started striding into the web-covered larder.

“Idris!” Three hissed as he tried to pull the web-doors closed, thinking Idris had momentarily been distracted. “Wedge!” Idris paused, then handed a pinion calmly to Three. Three gave a single thump before Idris stepped over him and kicked the piton and shoved the door open. He bent down over the fallen drider and carved off a neat slab of the torso with his short-sword. To Three’s astonishment he tore into the chunk with satisfaction.

Three was terrified: Idris could kill us all. He quietly pulled the door to, then spun. “Idris has flipped!” he cried, then bolted around out of line of sight.

The three spyders were quickly dead, Sifer’s arrows and Eli’s fists doing the lion’s share of the work. Uthar killed the largest and felt the satisfaction flood him and the sword both. “There’s more to be done,” Uthar growled, drawing a raised eyebrow from Sifer.

Once the raklupis fell, Idris found himself returning. He looked at the half-eaten flesh in his bloodied hand and…burped. He knew exactly what had happened. He winked at Three as he wiped his mouth. Three jerked back into hiding as Idris chuckled.

Marko scratched his head. Idris was eating a dead spyder, Three cowering behind a corner, Uthar seemed to have flipped an unpredictable switch that made him open doors unannounced. “Gentlemen,” he said sternly, ushering the company to approach. “How about we get our act together!” he growled. “Uthar. Are you alright? And Three, why are you running away? And you, Idris, ran back into the larder!”

“Idris just—” Three started.

“The large spikey one charmed me,” Idris interrupted, pulling out a hanky and cleaning himself off.

“Ok. And what about you?” Marko said glaring at Uthar.

The hulking paladin stood clutching the blade dripping with ichor, eyes darting, ready for more. “The sword can help us,” he muttered.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“It’s hard.” This time Uthar almost believed it. Almost. “It will get easier,” the sword assured. Uthar swallowed.

Marko held Uthar’s gaze, then shrugged. “Fair enough.”

“Just sheath it,” Idris sent to Uthar, not wanting to embarrass him or call him out. Uthar considered this. It was good advice. Sensible. He lifted the blade and held it over his shoulder. But what if there was something more to kill?

Everyone saw the hesitation. Three met Marko’s look and shook his head briefly, as Uthar finally shunted the blade home.

He turned back to the company. “Let’s try and stay together. There are a lot of spyders and I’m a bit worried about everyone. I understand getting charmed, that happens, but we have to focus. And let me check the doors first,” he glanced at Uthar as Three saluted mildly.

Eli walked back into the room the spyders had emerged from. He had seen pinpoints of coloured light moving over the northern wall, and now we approached he could see it was a three-dimensional map of the battlefield outside. The lights, now faded, seemed to indicate the position of the various forces. “Killing the spyder must have dispelled the magic,” he guessed.

“Did we change the battle?” Uthar said.

“We might have just destroyed the defender’s co-ordination,” Sifer theorised.

“Meaning the attackers might be about to swarm in,” Eli groaned.

“A spyder hive mind is just what you want,” Idris joked darkly.

“I found this in the webbing,” Three called from the far corner of the room, holding a platinum scroll case aloft. Marko cleared it for traps and handed it to Idris, who unscrewed the cap. “Two spell scrolls, both glyphs of warding,” he smiled. Makes sense.

Eli, rather the worse for wear from the spyder fights, rummaged through his bag hoping to find a potion. Instead he pulled free a collapsible pole. He smiled and tossed it to Marko. “To replace the one you sacrificed in Avernus,” he grinned.

Marko was absurdly happy, thanking Eli profusely. “Now. We check the room behind before proceeding ahead.”

“Before we proceed, Eli is badly injured,” Sifer called to Three. “He needs healing—not everyone, just him.” He worried about what lay ahead and just how much healing might be required. “Let me,” Uthar said stepping up and laying his hands.

Eli healed, Marko pushed the doors with the faded-wolf sigil open, revealing a long room holding piles of armour, weapons, and banners amid mounds of webbing. Tiny unthreatening spyders (a refreshing change) scuttled across the mounds, and there were several torn apart bodies.

“Shall I use my invisible sight?” Three asked, “This looks suspicious.”

“Wait,” Eli said, “I found this in my bag.” He held up a lantern that, he knew, would reveal invisible creatures. “Oh. Nothing in here,” he said with slight disappointment.

“There’s a chest at the far end,” Sifer pointed.

“Search the room,” Marko ordered.

As the company obeyed, Idris pinged Uthar with a question. “Did you have any option not to draw the sword before you did, earlier?”

“No,” Uthar admitted.

Idris nodded. “If at all possible, try not to draw it unless we’re literally about to fight someone.”

“That sounds sensible.”

“Does it speak to you?”

“Oh yes.”

Idris met Uthar’s gaze. “Minimise the time it is in your hand as much as you can.” There was no judgement in his words, but it was a clear warning.

Uthar merely stared. The sword was curiously quiet.

Before long a pile of magical weapons (4 swords, 3 daggers, and a particularly fine bow). and a collection of potions. “And look at this,” Marko beamed, brandishing a fine cloak of black silk interwoven with faint, silvery thread. “Shall I put it on?”

“Using any of these is a risk at this point in time, the cloak more than the rest—they can be cursed,” Idris warned. “Having said that the bow looks very nice.”

“None of it has an evil aura,” Uthar said waving his hand. “Not even the cloak.”

Eli immediately swung the cloak on. He felt…spydery.

Sifer picked up the bow. It was of far nicer manufacture than his, elven crafted and with a perfect weight. Throwing caution to the wind he swapped.

Marko examined the potions. “Two different types,” he said squinting at the liquid. “Three poison and…giant strength.” He handed that to Eli, despite the glistening gold belt he now wore.

Eli meanwhile dragged the chest back to the company. Marko called it safe and popped it open. Inside were 750 flawless black opals, glimmering faintly.

“This…is worth an awful lot,” Marko gasped. “The better part of a million gold pieces.”

“Let’s not flood the market,” Sifer joked after a brief astonished pause as Three picked one and dropped it in his pocket.

---

“The room ahead is larger, and not empty,” Marko warned.

“We need to go whether there is something there or not,” Uthar said, and Marko pushed the doors open.

“He is here,” the blade said, immediately coming to life.

“The moment has arrived,” Uthar warned, “The sword has told me ‘he’ is here.”

“But who is the ‘he’?” Three hissed.

“We don’t know,” Uther said, and Three did not miss the ‘royal’ we.

“It could be Kas,” Idris whispered urgently, “We were told he would be here.”

“Shit,” Three said. “He’s going to want that,” he added pointing to the blade on Uthar’s back.

“He will, yes.”

“And my bag,” Three said patting his fake hand pouch.

“He can have one, but probably not both,” Idris scowled. “Let’s see—we’ll talk to him. How tough can he be without his sword?”

“Take me to him,” the sword urged as if listening.

“What if Kas is half-spyder,” Eli said tensely.

“Oh I really hope not,” Uthar groaned, settling his shoulders—but not drawing the blade, heeding Idris’s earlier words. “Get ready.”

Uthar led the company into the large chamber ahead, and there stood the Betrayer in all his glory.

---

He stood before a swirling crimson portal holding the final segment of the Rod aloft, channelling its power into the miasma. He was flanked by two spyder-demons and one huge demon with a spyder-head and wings who was covered in countless tiny, crawling spyders that blinked in and out of existence.

---

Kas immediately sensed the company’s arrival and turned.

“You know it is strange. This trinket,” he said twirling the Rod idly, “Tells me that Vecna lies beyond. But I sense a trap.”

He spied the blade strapped to Uthar’s back. For the briefest possible moment Uthar saw genuine surprise before a beaming smile spread over his handsome face. “I was told you would come; and now I see why,” he said with delight. “For you have brought me my blade!”

Uthar felt the sword throbbing with what could only be described as lust. He glanced down at Kas’s empty scabbard and felt he understood why. “Take me to him…he is mine!”

Strangely enough, Uthar found he agreed. The sword wants Kas more than he wants me. He took a step forward and met Kas’s charming gaze. “Swap.”

“Swap?” Again, Kas seemed surprised. “You want this?” he said, tossing the Rod piece up and catching it. “But it is merely a trinket? And that…that is my blade. It is everything.”

“Easy trade then,” Idris sniped. “Close the portal and give us the piece.”

Kas glanced to the portal. “Oh I won’t close it because that is how I will get to him,” he seethed with barely concealed hatred. “And the sword is the best means of stopping my ancient foe. I will gladly make that trade.”

As Kas spoke Uthar had a sudden wave of doubt and regret. Losing the sword would mean returning to a powerless weapon, a plain weapon, a weapon with no power. He shook his head to clear it and a smirk crossed Kas’s face. “Not so easy, I see.” He took a step forward and held out the final Rod part. “Return my blade and take it. It is yours.”

Uthar looked around the company seeking confirmation, but Three wasn’t quite ready. “What are your plans? If we make this trade will you help us take him down?” he said looking to the portal.

“Oh no. He is mine and mine alone.”

Idris peered at Kas, and was surprised to see he was deadly earnest. His belief that with his blade he would destroy Vecna was utterly sincere.

“Who told you we were coming?” Marko asked innocently.

“The Dark Powers,” Kas replied instantly. “Mordenkainen also hinted that I should wait for your arrival.”

“Morden-fucking-keinan,” Sifer hissed softly. He looked around at his companions and nodded to the Rod in Kas’s open hand. “We have one priority—our objectives align, Kas.”

“Do they indeed?”

“We seek Vecna’s demise,” Sifer said, not even noticing that he spoke the fatal words safely.

“He is mine, not yours,” Kas said, his voice carrying a note of warning.

“That’s fair enough,” Eli encouraged.

“We will stand by your side in this battle,” Sifer added.

“Of which battle do you speak? The one outside?”

“The battle through that portal.”

“Oh, no, I need to help. In fact it is offensive you even suggest it,” Kas declared dismissively.

“Kas,” Idris said, “Are these yours?” he said looking to the spyder minions.

“They are working with me. For safe passage and an alliance, I promised them the return of Miska.” He grinned. “Of course I cannot do that.”

“Well I guess he is Kas the Betrayer,” Eli shrugged, “So he has form.". Idris glanced to the spyder-fiends, who watched on impassively. He guessed they could not understand. “Any chance we could have them leave the room?”

Kas gave a short laugh. “You do not trust me, and I do not trust you—I think that is clear. There are six of your, I am happy with my four.”

“Fair enough,” Idris conceded with a grin of his own.

“If you think it is a trap through the portal,” Eli said, “Why don’t you send one of them first?”

“As I have said: he is mine.”

Eli turned. “Uthar. You must give him the sword.”

“Uthar. You must give him the sword,” Sifer agreed. “The sword is not our objective.”

Three had a bad feeling—is seemed almost too obvious—but could not make a counter argument.

Marko nodded. “You will do the right thing, Uthar, I trust you.”

Uthar found Marko’s word was he needed. He turned to Kas.

Kas beamed. “Let us exchange man to man, hand to hand. I will place the rod in yours, and you the sword in mine.”

The vampire and the paladin started a slow approach, neither trusting but neither doubting.

Sifer watched carefully, wary. “Being the Betrayer, let us bear witness to your triumph.”

Kas shook his head, never taking his eyes off Uthar. “This is something Vecna and I need to decide between ourselves. There need be no witness to the demise of that creature, he deserves no such honour.”

“No, there will be,” Marko said with a hint of threat, stepping toward Kas.

“The deal is changing?” Kas said archly, stopping in his tracks.

“It’s not changing. He is going to give you the sword and we will take the Rod. But we need to witness his end.”

“No we don’t!” Eli hissed. “If he goes in there and it’s a trap all the better for us.”

“Once we have the Rod the whole game changes,” Three said urgently to Eli.

Uthar continued his slow steps toward Kas, who now waited idly twirling the Rod and tossing it hand-to-hand as if it were a toy. For a long moment Idris considered ripping it from mid-air, betraying the Betrayer, but the stakes were too high and a mistake could mean the Rod was never complete.

“Are we ready?” Kas smirked.

“We’re ready,” Uthar said, carefully unbuckling the sheathed blade. Being so close he could feel Kas’s intense cold, the bloodless vampire’s brilliant eye gleaming with a lust that matched that of the blade.

A wave of fear suddenly flashed through Three. He grabbed Idris’s arm. “Are we sure it’s the Rod!?”

Idris’s eyes went wide. “He was powering the portal with it?”

“He might have switched it out!” Three urged, tightening his grip.

Idris jammed his hand into his bag and grabbed the near-complete Rod. It was pulsing with energy, pulsing for the final piece to be placed. “No, this is it,” he said, ninety-percent sure. Ninety-nice. He held his breath.

“In my long banishment I never imagined this,” Kas said as Uthar held the sword forth. “Never. Have you wielded it?”

Uthar was astonished to find Kas was delaying the moment, delaying the gratification. “I have,” he said warily.

“And has it drunk the blood of your enemies?” Kas licked his lips, “Did you enjoy it?”

Uthar paused. “Yes,” he said softly, and again he felt a moment of weakness—he wanted to feel it again. Using every ounce of his faith he pushed the hunger away. He put out his open hand to receive the Rod, holding the sword out, hilt first, in the other. He gripped it with an iron will, with all the strength he could muster. Kas would not rip it free.

Still Kas delayed. His eyes shone and teeth glinted. “You know…with that blade I removed Vecna’s Hand. I gorged out his Eye. And now…I will remove his head.”

Uthar laid the hilt in Kas’s open palm as Kas lowered the Rod to his. As the blade was finally reunited with it’s master, a grin flashed across Kas’s face and he vanished.

Uthar’s hands were empty.

“Fuck,” Idris swore. “I fucking knew it!”

As the company reeled in shock, Kas reappeared before the portal. “Never let it be said I am not a man of my word,” he beamed, tossing the Rod piece toward the spyder-headed demon. “Vecna lies just beyond. I go to finish what I started.” With that he leapt through the portal.

Idris didn’t hesitate. His mage hand whipped across the room, intercepting the spinning Rod part as it arced toward the demon. She turned in fury and lifted her flaming whip.

---

“Kelemvor!” Three cried, dropping to one knee. A blight thundered down upon the closest spyder, sucking the lifeforce from it. Uthar drew his old weapon, feeling bereft of power, but letting the fleeting regret fuel his attacks. Eli deployed his blades then his fists, freeing Sifer to land arrow after arrow into the wounded spyder. Marko slipped forward and all but killed it, sluicing his rapier through the belly of the beast.

Unfortunately it still stood, albeit shakily. It belched out an acid-drenched web that sizzled the skin. The winged demon’s whip flew toward Idris but he shimmied out of the path. She cursed in spyderspeak (bringing a blush to Eli’s face) before springing and plunging her lightning blade into Uthar.

Idris summoned a thundering ball that finished the near-dead spyder, and staggered the demon. The other spider coated the company in shimmering web, exposing Marko and hurting all. It followed up with vicious bites into Uthar, who managed to parry off both. It regretted that as soon after the company dropped it from sheer force of arms.

Only the huge spyder-headed demon remained. Marko appearing from behind and delivered a strike that left her reeling, his slicing blade fileting her torso. In response, the tiny phasing spiders that covered her leapt to the close combatants, piercing each with a thousand piercing bites. Marko was struck worst of all, and the company watched in horror as he froze in place, paralysed, before crashing to the floor. She shot her whip out to catch Idris, again missing and again drawing foul curses. Her blade was more effective, and Uthar staggered, blood flowing freely from multiple wounds.

“Keep an eye on him,” Sifer cried to Three. Idris stepped forward and muttered a few entrapping words. Not unlike Marko, the giant demon’s movement slowed, then stopped, then froze. He blade was drawn, her whip, ready, but she could not move at all. Her thousand eyes spun wild with anger and frustration.

It was her end. The company had free reign, wailing on her as each saw fit, Eli’s trademark intensity leading to him besting the still-frozen Marko’s output. She fell…

…and exploded in a fiery inferno.

Uthar all but fell with her, only a last instant raise of his shield preventing the flames from engulfing him. Everyone else was singed and gasping for breath in the sudden heat.

Three didn’t hesitate. “Kelemvor,” he said softly, and the healing washed over all. “We have only seconds to get through that portal!”

“I agree,” Idris nodded quickly. “He was keeping it open with the Rod and it won’t last. But first—” he said, showing the last piece of the rod with a grin.

He pulled the six parts free and lined up the final. He looked around the company and shunted it together.

With a quiet thunk the Rod of Seven Parts was complete once more.

---

For the first time in a millenia the Rod throbbed with the power of ultimate Order, slowly rediscovering itself after a long absence. Idris could feel the energy surging through the artefact, readying and aligning, relearning its purpose. “It’s preparing, thinking,” he mumbled with wonder. “But we should go.”

“But if Vecna is through there and the Rod is not ready, neither are we,” Sifer worried.

“Kas was keeping it open with the piece, and the piece is no longer there,” Idris said urgently.

Sifer scratched his chin. “That’s true. I think we need to go through!”

As if it had heard, the portal flickered.

The company leapt through.

---

Session played October 25, 2026

---