The final wraith grabbed hold of the sword that was offered to her and drove it into her own, dark heart. Her saddened expression faded to one of satisfaction as she also faded into the cold wind. The ice crystals receded, and at last, the wailing had finally ceased. The cold mist abated, and the party could at last make out the Altas Mountains clearly to the west, seeing the freshly blown out opening from Amanta. Before The Rectifiers could really reorient themselves in the world after being pulled from beneath the earth to Ristum, an explosion rocked the ruins.
With ringing ears, the group got to their feet and found a section of the ruins completely blown away, creating a makeshift alley out of the ruined city. They spotted a small crater and a body lying on the ground. Upon investigation, they found that the body was that of The Red Inquisitor’s faceless agent. He had doom-burning lacerations on his chest and appeared to be dead. There were signs of magic at the explosion site as well.
A storm clou Mageronywest coalesced and covered the sky near Ristum. A stinging purple rain began to fall from the sky. The party began to head for the tower, but they were stopped by a red portal that opened along the pathway. They stepped through into The Red Inquisitor’s stoney storefront. They found the warlock’s head now fully materialized, though it was covered by a dark hood giving off a red glow inside. He examined the body of his agent and told the group that the source of both of their troubles lies in wait at the outpost tower from where they saw the storm originating. He asked the group to avenge his agent then showed what wares he had for sale.
One item in particular piqued the curiosity of The Rectifiers: a dark spike with a purple jewel at the top. The Red Inquisitor explained that it was a Spike of Creation, and that it would destroy an Anchor if thrust into it in a place of power. Obviously, the group was interested, but the cost was allowing The Red Inquisitor to take hold of an Anchor temporarily. The group weighed the pros and cons and eventually allowed the strange warlock to hold the metallic cylinder tool they recovered from Skywalker. He called forth multi-colored spells and powers from different beyonds until his arm appeared to be covered in a chromatic gauntlet of light. With that, he plunged his hand into the cylinder, which had been activated into a green sword of light. He struggled against the strange weapon, but he managed to pull forth an orb of Doom Magic, causing the weapon to short circuit and deactivate. He grasped the orb of Doom and handed the cylinder back to the party, stating that a master smith could potentially repair it. The corruption creating the Anchor had been pulled out, rendering it useless as a tool of The Harbinger. With business concluded, he sent the orb of Doom to some unknown and waved the party away back into the dark rainstorm they had left.
The Rectifiers covered themselves with what cloaks and protection they had and made their way to the outpost tower. They found a barrack attached at the bottom with its door hanging ajar, off one of its hinges. Inside they found a single candle burning with a dim purple flame. They took it as a light source and journeyed through the heavy door leading to the tower proper.
When they emerged on the other side, they found themselves not inside a tower stairwell, but in a keep’s courtyard. The stonework and walls of the keep and city they were in seemed to have magical glows and properties, as if magic itself was the mortar holding the stones together. They saw themselves garbed in golden, sleek metal, the work of a master craftsman. They were all elves, and they seemed to be in Falen, though it looked quite different from the one they knew. Around the courtyard were bodies of soldiers bearing the logo of The Founders on their chestplates. Red corruption seemed to course through their veins and eyes. Another elf rushed up to meet them, and he seemed to usher orders to them, but in a language long dead. He pointed in a direction, then ran off, casting an immense spell of ice magic on his way. The Rectifiers left the keep’s courtyard to the main plaza of Falen, which then held a magical statue of an elven hero wielding a bow. Enthralled soldiers with the red corruption rushed out from the streets to meet them, with some strange ogre-like horned beast running through the statue to join the fray. The statue wavered at first, then rematerialized. The Rectifiers fought the soldiers bearing the sigil of The Founders, though they still did not understand what they were witnessing. As they fought, grand spells of lightning, fire, and light went off in the distance. Though they claimed victory over the soldiers, it was short lived, as a mighty dragon flew out, blotting out the sun. The last thing the group saw was a mighty burst of dark red flame.
When their vision cleared, they found themselves in the Luxen throne room, though its decorations were quite different. They saw themselves as the mighty Bloodied Heroes, weapons freshly used on Kingsguard members. They were witnessing the moment when Thalend, who had become King after Korrin was slain in the times of Scarlet, was killed by his own brother Korrin, now resurrected. A strange light seemed to give more focus to Thalend in this odd vision. They saw sadness in Korrin’s eyes as he drew the dagger to silence his elven brother, the same dagger they used in the Luxen Sunbeam Tombs to teleport to The Magerony. As Thalend spent his last breath, the vision clouded.
At last, the party reappeared in their own time atop the watchtower, though it seemed enlarged. The horizon and land below were covered in shadow, the Doom storm still raging. Around the perimeter of the tower were 8 statues of elven heroes. Not long after the party oriented themselves, a ring of purple flames erupted around the tower. A feminine figure stepped through the fire wielding two daggers. The daggers seemed to be dipped with purple magic, the woman’s auburn hair had begun to turn purple at the roots, and her irises now held a purple glow. The woman confronting them was Talla of the Kingsguard, daughter of the councilor that was lost when the shadowy dome covered Luxen. She preached that she would no longer allow their group to parade around with seemingly infinite power, as she had seen what had happened to her elven people in the past. She wished to wash away the world so that her people could again reign supreme as they did before catastrophe. She would do so with the Anchor now holstered on the small of her back: the twin to Gale’s pistol, now corrupted by Doom crystals. Battle ensued.
Talla dealt harsh injuries to The Rectifiers with the aid of the elven statues that seemed to emanate spells of great power of each of the natural elements of the world. With herself having suffered an injury from Talla’s cursed pistol, Amy rose up, dealt a serious blow with her bladed fan, then knocked the pistol out of Talla’s hand with another stroke before she could use it again. When the pistol left Talla’s grasp, her expression seemed to change. The pistol paused midair, creating beams of purple light connected to Talla’s hand and Gale’s. It seemed to reach out to both of them, though Talla’s expression was one of fear as she tried to resist it. Seeing an opportunity to take this evil away from a destructive force, Gale took the pistol into her own hand. The beams of light broke, and purple waves of magic began emanating from Gale. Her hair began to turn purple beginning at the root, her eyes took on a similar shade that Talla’s had. The gun seemed to glow with satisfaction in Gale’s hands. Talla’s hair and eyes returned to their normal auburn and green, and she seemed confused as she lay on her hands and knees fighting to stay conscious. She asked why Gale would sacrifice herself to the pistol rather than letting it destroy her, the elf who had tried to murder them. Audrea offered comforting words, stating that she was worth saving. Talla saw now that the fate of her people could be placed in these heroes’ hands and promised to pay back their kindness one day as she collapsed from exhaustion.
The tower returned to its normal size, the statues vanished, and the storm abated. A calm snow took the place of the harsh Doomrain. With another Anchor now in good hands, or so they hoped, the group descended the tower with Duma Van carrying the redeemed elven woman in his arms…