Session 97

The Road of Fire: Part 2

Chapter 1: Along the Coast

For three grueling days, the group trudged along the southern coast of Dhuurghaz, their every step dogged by the wrath of Athas. The Sea of Silt cast choking winds and blinding dust against them, and the relentless glare of the Dark Sun scorched their backs by day. Come nightfall, the desert turned cruel in another way—biting cold gripped their bones, offering no respite.

Their attempts at rest were plagued by eerie disturbances—whispers in the dark, distant movements that vanished when investigated, and the ever-present sense of being watched. Yet among the strange phenomena, only one event stood out in true menace: while standing watch beneath the dead sky, Karnos was bitten by a peculiar insect. Its fangs sank deep, and though the wound seemed small, it pulsed with unnatural heat. Whatever venom coursed through his veins, it marked the beginning of something unknown.

Chapter 2: The Shephard

As they crested a sunbaked ridge, the group beheld a broad clearing nestled before a shadowy recess in the cliffside. There, bathed in the dying light of Athas, a great herd of rust-colored erdlu wandered aimlessly, their feathered forms eerily quiet. Sitting among them, like a sorrowful sentinel, was a lone giantess—massive, still, and watchful, her gaze lost in the idle movements of the herd.

The group approached with caution, wary of her size and solitude. When she finally turned her eyes upon them, it was not with rage but with tired curiosity. She asked them, in a voice as heavy as the stones around her, why they had come.

It was then that Karnos stepped forward, weaving a false memory into her mind—a vision of her clan's fiery end at the claws of a brutal fire drake, and of the party’s vengeance in slaying the beast. The illusion took root. A shadow passed over the giantess’s face as the weight of imagined grief settled into her heart.

She grew silent, sorrow clinging to her like dust in the wind. Without protest, she allowed them to take the erdlu. Her only request, offered in a voice barely above a whisper, was that they leave her in peace. And so they did, walking away as the giantess sat alone once more, cradled by cliffs and haunted by a lie.

Chapter 3: Returning the Erdlu

The return journey to the wolf-head giants was long and grueling, the sun unrelenting and the winds merciless, but the path remained mercifully free of danger. When they at last reached the towering kin of stone and sinew, they returned the rust-colored erdlu to their rightful keepers. A moment of silent understanding passed between them and the giants—honor, in some form, had been upheld.

It was then that Shiv stepped forward and struck a bold bargain with Groth, the grim and weathered giant who loomed like a living cliff. In his deep, grinding voice, Groth agreed to bear them across the Sea of Silt to the distant island of Avegdaar. But there was a condition—he would only travel by night, when the skies were less likely to bring death on wings. The journey would span three nights, with each night’s end spent searching for a jagged crag where they could rest beyond the reach of silt-born horrors.

On the final night, as the island loomed faintly in the gloom, Groth waded to a point 300 yards from shore. There, in waist-deep silt, he lowered them gently into the mire. “I can go no further,” he rumbled, eyes fixed on the shadowed isle. “I am not here invited to be.” Without another word, the giant turned and began his long, slow march back toward Dhuurghaz, vanishing into the grey wastes as the party faced the unknown shore ahead.

Chapter 4: The Pyrus and The Hesper

As the weary group trudged through the shallow silt, now only 150 yards from Avegdaar’s shadowed shoreline, the silver light of Guthay shimmered on the surface like a sea of molten glass. The warmth of the silt, still clinging long after sunset, unnerved them. Above, the red glow of a volcanic crown lit the heavens with an ominous hue. Then they saw it—a titanic wheel slumped between the skeletal remains of two broken masts, rising from the silt like the grasping arms of a drowned titan. From beyond, on a gust of silt-choked wind, came the haunting swell of a bell—a silt skimmer's call to arms.

Through the haze, shadowy figures assembled by the wreckage. Trenbull gasped, eyes wide with horror. “By all I hold dear… it’s them.”

The air shifted as chaos erupted. Safi transformed into a towering hatori and lunged forward. A banshee wailed—a dreadful malediction—and in its wake, Zahraan and Shiv were consumed by a violent berserker rage. The banshee, wreathed in hatred, raked Safi with steel claws. Karnos, caught in the withering stare of another, turned on Trenbull and struck him in madness. Another banshee surged at Karnos, but he escaped by phasing into mist.

Fazanna struck back with green-flame blade and shadow magic. More banshees closed on Safi, tearing into his armored hide. Trenbull, heart pounding, shouted for retreat and bolted toward shore. Zahraan, lost in rage, stabbed Shiv—once clean, once parried—before regaining his senses. Shiv, equally frenzied, turned his blade on Anvar. Though Anvar’s psionic shield absorbed some blows, one strike landed true before Shiv’s divine spark burned the madness away.

The banshees pressed in. Two tore through Safi’s hatori form, forcing him back into his true self. Karnos countered with a burst of psionic power. Zahraan held his ground, deflecting claw after claw. But then Fazanna, seized by the banshee's gaze, turned wild. She cast withdraw, then charged Karnos, her blade barely missing before clarity returned.

Safi, now glowing with divine fire, blinded a banshee with sacred flame, but still it struck him. Zahraan fought back with steel and fury, moving to shield Safi. Shiv flanked a banshee and crushed it with a thunderous blow—but it vanished only to reform near the shore. Another fell the same way beneath his might. Anvar, pulling a wand, cast haste on Safi, who retaliated with a brilliant moonbeam and a psionic blink to safety.

The banshees wailed again, catching Fazanna and Shiv in their maddening grip. One slashed Shiv; Zahraan cut another down—but again, it reappeared by the sea. Shiv, still wild, missed Zahraan before they switched places in a whirlwind of combat and regained his senses. The moonbeam seared banshees as they tried to close in on Safi, but their claws still found him. Safi turned on Anvar in confusion before breaking free of the enchantment.

Anvar was not so lucky—falling into berserker rage, he tackled Shiv before restoring his mind with sheer will. Even so, the banshees tore at him. Karnos lifted into the air with his gravitic field. Anvar pursued, moving like a blur through the mire. Fazanna, screaming, slashed at Safi before sprinting for the beach. Shiv broke from the fray and fled. Safi, battered and alone, faltered—then soared on enchanted boots toward the shore.

The banshees gave chase, their fury relentless. Zahraan suffered a grievous blow but managed to escape the fray. Karnos reached the safety of the beach, followed by Zahraan and finally Safi, using charm and flight to slip free of death’s grip.

They stood on the blackened beach of Avegdaar, hearts hammering, skin torn, minds shaken. The banshees lingered behind them like storm clouds on the horizon.

They had escaped… but had they triumphed? The answer hung unspoken in the searing wind.

Chapter 5: On Avegdaar

As the party stepped onto the rocky, ash-streaked shore of Avegdaar, the earth itself seemed to groan beneath their feet. A low, ominous rumble surged from the depths of the island, echoing like thunder from the bowels of the world. Stones shifted. The wind carried sulfur and unease. Silence fell over the group as the tremors faded, leaving behind only the pounding of their hearts and the dread-soaked crash of waves against black stone.

They gathered amidst the jagged terrain, lit by Guthay’s pale glow and the smoldering red crown of the island’s volcanic peak. As they weighed their next move, Trenbull stepped forward. His face was grim, his voice quiet but edged with steel.

“I believe we need to be very careful about how we proceed from here,” he said, eyes scanning the looming hills. “We know the giants here are hostile. If my father is still alive, he’s likely being kept in one of their caves—and I don’t believe we can storm them without risking his life.”

His hand fell to the hilt at his belt, but he made no move to draw it.

“I suggest stealth. Shadows and silence. We slip in, strike fast, and vanish. I’d rather sneak into a cave at night and cut throats than bring a torch to a beast’s feast.”

He looked around at the others, gauging their reactions. Though the fire in his words burned hot, there was no stubbornness in his tone. Trenbull had seen what the party could do—had witnessed their chaos and cunning—and he trusted them. He would not press his plan if another made more sense.

But beneath it all, one truth burned brightest: he would not endanger his father. Not for pride. Not for blood. Not for vengeance.

Chapter 6: The Clans of Avegdaar

As the group neared the shore, the ground trembled beneath their feet, and eight colossal figures emerged from the shadows of the island. The giants were monstrous, their dark red skin gleaming under the twin moons, each standing a towering 25 feet tall. Their coarse hair trailed in thick braids down their broad shoulders, and their eyes burned with the fire of ancient rage.

One giant, his gaze fixed on Trenbull, bared his teeth and snarled. "Look, it's the little fire eater, and he has more of his friends with him. Bored I am with him. I think I'll crush him."

Another giant growled in protest, stepping forward with a sharp look. "No, Progg angry will be. You cannot crush the little keeper."

A tense silence fell over the group of giants as three of them lumbered forward, their massive spiked clubs swinging in their hands, the ground shaking with each step.

"Call Progg, tell him trouble there is!" one of the giants bellowed, his deep voice echoing across the silt-strewn shore. Without waiting for an answer, the giant turned, heading inland with powerful strides, leaving the others to grumble amongst themselves.

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