14 November 2024

The session begins with the party face-to-face with an all-powerful lich, his immense magical energy radiating throughout the room. He regards the adventurers with a cold, almost amused gaze. “I’m impressed by your boldness,” he says, his voice echoing with power. “But I won’t be happy if you continue to meddle in my plans. Leave now, and I will spare you—for this time.” With a snap of his bony fingers, the lich vanishes into thin air, leaving behind a chilling silence.

In the room, the party finds an altar surrounded by unconscious elves and an ancient tome resting atop it. They quickly awaken the elves, who are groggy but unharmed, and guide them out of the room. Relief washes over the group as they step into the bustling streets, where joy fills the air as the freed elves reunite with their loved ones.

But their respite is short-lived. A sudden hiss and shifting of stone alert them to danger—a Grick emerges from the shadows, its tentacles writhing hungrily. Acting quickly, the party dispatches the creature with ease, but unease lingers. Fearing more danger, they retrace their steps back into the underground chamber.

As they descend the dimly lit hallway, the sound of heavy footsteps reverberates through the space. An orc war chief charges toward them, his weapon gleaming with brutal intent. A fierce battle ensues, testing their strength and resolve. Though bloodied and weary, the party eventually brings the orc down.

Seeking safety, they retreat to the local tavern, barricading the door and catching their breath. But their relief is shattered as the door splinters apart under the force of a massive, otherworldly creature. A Lonely Sorrowsworn, its emaciated, shadowy form radiating despair, steps into the room. The battle is brutal—Borin falls to its merciless attacks, and Alered’s enchanted snake-form staff is shattered in the fray. In a final, desperate act, Toric delivers a decisive blow, vanquishing the creature.

As the Sorrowsworn collapses, a shimmering light engulfs the party. Their surroundings dissolve, and they suddenly find themselves standing back in the altar room, as if waking from a dream. Confusion turns to realization: they had been trapped in a cursed, linked meditative state the entire time.

The lich reappears, visibly shaken. “This… this wasn’t supposed to happen,” he mutters, his composure cracking for the first time. “He won’t be happy about this.” Without another word, he snaps his fingers and teleports away, leaving the party to ponder the true nature of the events—and what dangers lie ahead.