The Rectifiers and company sailed through the wintry seas toward the shadow storm looming on the horizon. As a small island containing a mountain range entered the horizon, the party was ambushed by sea goblins that clambered aboard the ship. These creatures were dispatched without much cost, relative to previous sea battles. The party collected the barnacled equipment they could salvage from the beasts and continued their voyage.
Upon nearing the unnamed island with its own set of mountains, Karth’s fire stone began to warm. He took note but let the boat continue to drift toward their destination for a time. When he realized the stone grew warmer the closer they got to the island, he spoke up. Though some in the party vied for the ship to continue on its course, others wanted to see what awaited for them deep in the mountains. Eventually, the group agreed to make a stop on the island.
Walter set the ship to anchor as the party landed ashore the stoney beach, the cold mountains looming in front of them. They discovered a long forgotten trail of sorts leading into the cascade of peaks, so they traveled up and forward into the snow-covered fangs. The journey took more than a day, but the party eventually topped a smaller peak to discover a slightly ruined, massive stone bridge covering a several hundred feet drop into stone, ice, and spikes below. Across the way, they spied a ruined castle and keep.
As Karth spearheaded the group across the bridge, they were met by several vile guardians attempting to keep them from the castle. The first of these sentinels was a sensual woman who attempted to seduce Karth into leaving. When turned down by the group as a whole, she grew large fangs, her mouth widened an inhuman amount, and she burst toward the party vanishing into dark smoke. The next attempt to dissuade the party was a large maw chomping down the expanse of the bridge, quickly approaching the group. Assuming they were not in true danger considering the previous specter, the Rectifiers stood their ground as the maw bit down upon them. It similarly vanished into smoke afterward.
The third guardian was a roguish fellow sitting on the side of the bridge. He pointed back toward where the party came, telling them they passed the true treasure. When they turned, they spied an immense pile of gold and jewels. An easy-to-see illusion, the party ignored the rogue and trudged onward through the heavy wind and snow. The following sight was strange indeed. A sleeping ogre creature blocked the path. As some of the party began to approach the ogre, they found themselves excessively drowsy. One-by-one, they began to drift to sleep, cuddled up with the sleeping giant. When all seemed nearly lost, Maron managed to push through the drowsiness to touch the ogre. It vanished.
Next, they were met by themselves. These copies appeared to be more experienced, battle-hardened, and donned in extravagant armor and weaponry. They offered a shortcut to their power if the party merely take their hands. The Rectifiers easily turned them down, but they grew alarmed at Maron’s vision of the “future”. He stood with luxurious purple armor, crystalline in nature. He gave off a slight purple aura. His eyes had gone fully purple with black magic dripping from their sockets. Disturbed but unswayed, the Rectifiers continued.
A nobleman blocked the path next, as the party neared the end of the bridge. He, like the rogue, pointed back the way they had come, showing a non-ruined castle, topped with perfect slate roofs and colorful banners. He claimed that castle was theirs for the taking, and it was a much better choice than the one awaiting them. Knowing the pattern at this point, the group pushed through the nobleman to approach the castle walls, but before they could push them open, a demonic, winged figure appeared atop one of its towers, saying this was their final chance to turn back. The party declined the request, and the demon began to toss red bolts of lightning toward them, though none struck the targets. The Rectifiers pushed open the ancient door and stepped into the castle grounds. The demon vanished in smoke.
The castle grounds were deathly quiet. Seldomly, bolts of red lightning would crack through the snowstorm above and connect to the shadow storm in the distance. The party crunched through the snow toward the open air keep, its roof and most of its walls long since destroyed. The keep appeared to have once been a throne room, though its regalia had been long lost. They neared where the throne might have once sat, getting a growing sense of being watched. When they reached the end of the hall toward the wall that still held the most stone and remains of a window, a rumbling began to shake the grounds. The clouds above them parted, and a dark dragon bearing golden spikes, claws, wings, and teeth began to descend toward them. When its mouth opened, scarlet fire, mist, and lightning erupted from behind its fangs. It landed on the less ruined wall with a snarl. On its face, the party saw a blood red tattoo spiraling around its right eye.
The dragon rumbled with a deep voice, telling the Rectifiers to leave now, before he disintegrated them where they stood. As the party tried to reason with the irritated beast, an old voice called out from behind the wall for them to be still.
From behind the wall came an older fellow donned in finely crafted, but old armor. He wore a longsword at his side that had red dragon-like designs on the hilt. His hair was a fading gray, styled back. On his face, he wore a full gray beard and had golden eyes. Wrinkles grasped at his skin near his eyes. Though the party believed that Aurum, Prince and Rightful Heir to Aura, stood in front of them, he denied the question and introduced himself as Graybeard, claiming he was no longer anyone important. He just wished to live out his days with his flying companion.
The Rectifiers argued against him, knowing his true identity. They pushed him to take action, though he made his apathy apparent. After trading words back and forth, he grew irritated at the group pushing him to take action. Graybeard stood, tearing off his metal gauntlet and pulling his sleeve up to reveal a tattoo of a dragon with golden wings spiraling around his arm. He told the party he had tried to save his homeland. He even met Morrithana and was granted new abilities from his tattoo. He said he went into the golden door above The Ancient Skies before Zin, but his memory of what happened inside was hazy at best. He claimed that he may have been the one that brought The Doom back into the world himself. Graybeard would not share with the group why he went inside in the first place, despite remembering that. He resigned back into his chair, saying he did his best, but he would be no help to them. Perhaps even the opposite.
The Rectifiers shared with him information that Selina and Sariel still walked the earth, that he had not yet lost everything. He seemed to shrug these off, claiming he did not know Sariel and Selina was not truly his mother after all, though there was a glint in his eye. When asked if he truly did not want to help save his homeland, he replied that he had tried and failed, and he now wished to sit and watch the final sunset over his kingdom before fleeing to the north. The group gave one last attempt at trying to recruit Graybeard’s help, but he merely paused as he laid his hand on his dragon’s snout. He clambered aboard the beast and told the party, “Maybe we’ll see each other again during that final sunset.” With that, he flew back into the snowstorm.
With mixed feelings on the encounter, the party seemed to drift off to sleep, but they awoke back on the stoney shore near their ship. The Rectifiers re-boarded their ship and continued through the last stretch of sea toward shadow.
As their ship approached the storm, all daylight seemed to fade. The cold winds abated. The water turned from the pure blue to a black and sickly green. It almost seemed to have souls drifting through the waves. Before they could enter the river adjacent to the two cities, decaying goblins ambushed the boat. They wielded decaying weapons of bone, and their skin seemed to be falling from the bone itself. Dangerous though they were, the Rectifiers destroyed the seemingly mostly decayed goblins and drifted toward the decay and darkness awaiting them…