Weary from the long fights and hours of study, and laden with remorse over losing a companion so graphically – the image of Garrett’s soul-self being torn from his corporal body and dragged into whatever fresh hell Karzoug had waiting for him still lingering on everyone’s mind. The party finally gathers on the great circle at the center of the conquered Halls of Wrath. With runeforged weapons in hand and the name of karzoug’s final hiding place, it was time to leave this place and seek him out. Joining hands around the circumference of the circle Beldal raised his voice in prayer to the Brewmaster, enticing him to remove us to our home plane once more.
We should have been whisked away to somewhere near Sandpoint, give or take 100 miles. We should have, but nothing happened… at first. Beldal finished his hymn-spell and we all stood in silence, the red glow from the ceiling of fire bathing us in an eerie light. Then the eldritch lines and Thalision runes on the great circle began to glow a faint blue, growing in intensity until they were painful to look upon. Then with a crack like the sundering of the world, daylight blazed into the room followed by an artic wind.
Blinking in the light of day, a circular gate had opened across the diameter of the rune circle. On the other side the familiar sight of the head stones on the plains of the steaming lake. A lone dwarf camped among them looks back at you with an expression caught between surprise and confusion. Not the first time you have seen this particular look cross Bral’s coarse features.