The Fortress of Sorrow, Mwangi Exapnse; Neth 1, 4719 AR

The Guardians steeled their nerves and crept deeper into the Cinderclaw fortress. For once, everyone was quiet, their eyes scanning the ceiling and finding the fossilized remains of a massive rib cage supporting the roof. Inagra growled in her throat, "Dahak." The visions that had been tormenting her in the past several years played over again in her mind. She was drawn here.

They came to a set of steel doors in which were carved images of Dahak laying waste to the world. The Guardians stared in morbid curiosity for a moment before Inagra pressed on, a scowl spread across her face. Yet as she laid her hand upon the door, she froze. Before her, Dahak's divine countenance burst into her mind, assailing her with a majesty beyond anything the mortal mind was ready for. She collapsed to the ground instantly. As Uhn and Viggo rushed to her aid, Wrin watched as the dwarf coughed blood onto her pristine robes.

"Inagra, what was that?!" shouted Viggo, waving a vial of smelling salts beneath her nose.

Uhn cradled the cleric's head in his arms and peered into her eyes. "Hey, hey! Stay with us! Are you okay?" The goblin seemed genuinely worried.

Inagra stood up, brushing away their concerns before chanting a quick prayer to Abadar under her breath. "Cowardly traps laid by foolish zealots." Inagra grit her teeth and spat out yet another globule of blood to the ground. The door pulled open into a room with cultists splayed on the ground, their wrists ritually sliced open and lifeblood pooled around them. In the distance, the sound of the roaring lava lake outside grew louder. Everyone was visibly shaken as they skirted around the corpses. Again, a set of steel doors barred the path further in.

"More magic?" Uhn asked, throwing a glance back to Wrin. The half-orc shook his head. "Splendiforous." The goblin pulled the door open into a room much like the previous. Fossilized bone arched across the ceiling and the clay ground was crisscrossed with numerous claw marks. The source was quickly evident: two massive chimeras chained up in the center of the room. Uhn tried to leap back, but two twin jets of fire erupted from their draconic heads, sending flames tumbling through the door, even as the goblin tried to slam it shut.

"Well, we're not going that way," Wrin said matter-of-factly. The Guardians doubled back, looking for another way in, but found only dead-ends and lava slowly seeping in through the grates in the floor. Ten minutes later they stood in front of the doors once more. The half-orc sighed, "We don't have time to deal with those things. We need to-" His expression changed then, his gaze alternating between the doors and the loop of rope Viggo had dangling from his pack. "I have an idea."

A few minutes later, the Guardians took up their positions. Viggo's rope was looped around the latch on the door while Inagra and Wrin prepared distractions with mage hand and prestidigitation. Uhn held himself ready to throw open the opposing door in the room, hoping that one door swinging open would distract the chimera and give the Guardians enough time to run past the monsters, unharmed. It all hinged on the ingenuity of Wrin's design and Viggo's handiwork. And the assumption that the chimera would be slow-witted enough to fall for such a ploy.

Miraculously, the chimera were indeed that slow-witted. Three heads, as it turns out, are not better than one. The Guardians chased across the room, watching breathlessly as the creatures lazily turned their heads to roar out challenges. Uhn threw his weight against the door forward and let out a cry of triumph as it gave way before him. The Guardians bowled into the room behind Uhn, with Wrin hurriedly pulling the entrance closed behind him.

"How dare you!" shouted the dragon-skinned boggard. "I am Belmazog, leader of the Cinderclaws! You interfere with divine mandate!" She threw her hands wide and twisted the Guardians' minds, fear stabbing into their hearts. Viggo panicked as he could hear the lava outside the walls eating away at the walls. As he turned to his comrades who seemed unaware of the danger, he shouted and raved, running away from the battle, clutching his bandolier for comfort.

Inagra responded in kind, sending Belmazog a vision of terror born forth from the dwarf's nightmares. Yet the power of Dahak still filled this place. The eyes within the dragon's skull - Dahak's skull - grew brighter and hurled bolts of fire around the room, striking Inagra hard in the chest. "Wrin!" she shouted.

"Yeah, yeah...," the half-orc grumbled, gliding back weightlessly through the air and quickly unbinding the magic in the eyes. Belmazog's last surviving cultist, however, sent tremors through the ground, knocking Wrin's feet out from under him. The sorcerer remained undeterred, and continued his spellcraft from the floor.

Uhn turned his attention to the chains binding the dragon, who weakly called out for assistance from his place beneath the torrent of molten gold. As the chains snapped beneath the barbarian's prodigious might, Viggo regained his composure and began to throw flasks of acid onto the chains as well, corroding them rapidly. Seeing the tide of battle shifting against her, Belmazog hurled spell after spell at the Guardians. Fireballs exploded around them, but Inagra's vital beacon kept the warriors in the battle, even while she tended to Uhn's wounds. The cult leader could take no more, and - stealing a page from Wrin's playbook - leapt through the sky and channeled a jet of flame from her hands. Uhn collapsed into Inagra's arms, his otherworldy rage leaving his body, and the cleric quickly began doing everything she could to snatch the goblin back from Pharasma's grasp.

Yet Belmazog failed to notice the weakening chains that held her captive dragon. She whirled on the massive reptile just in time to see the flames building in his throat. The fire torched everyone in the room indiscriminately, burning them down to the bone. When the smoke cleared, Viggo crawled through the ash to where his companions all lay unconscious. Beside them lay the charred corpse of Belmazog, who seemed to catch the brunt of the dragon's breath weapon. Viggo's gaze drifted upward through the haze to the indistinct figure of the dragon. A scarred face loomed menacingly, and beneath it a great spike of gold stuck out from a hole in the dragon's chest. "We freed you," Viggo said, fingers dancing along his alchemical containers. "I just want to check on my friends and make sure they're okay." He held up his hands in supplication.

Inagra's ears perked up at that. "We're not, but why do you ask?" She remembered something about the name, but they had just spent so long in the jungle that anything before that was starting to become a distant memory.

Kyrion stretched his neck, twisting his head from side to side as he considered what to say. "I know that Belmazog often received messages from this group. All of this started because of them."

Sure enough, Wrin found a scattering of missives detailing a mutual exchange between the Cinderclaws and this Scarlet Triad. The Triad supplied the cult with magical reagents and rituals, while the Cinderclaws paid for it with an exceptionally large sum of gold. Belmazog seemed to be communicating with someone named "Laslunn," who was increasingly disappointed in having to wait for more gold to be sent to them. To punctuate those writings, Viggo came upon a weathered scroll that contained something called only the Nul-Acrumi Vazghul Ritual. The half-elf's eyes slid across the writing, but he felt like he absorbed very little. With a shrug, he tucked it away, safe among the rest of his belongings in the bag of holding.

"One favor is what we ask, dragon," Wrin demanded. Kyrion shot the half-orc a look that dared him to take that tone again. "This fortress is surrounded by lava. Take us across the lake, and we'll call this even." The dragon sneered, but didn't balk at the deal, taking the four of them onto his back. A moment later, and after a massive blast of his flaming breath, the Guardians were returned to their campsite where Renali waited for them. Kyrion hardly spared a glance back as he took to the sky, the gleaming golden spike still jutting from his chest. Viggo's eyes followed it, certain that he had seen something like that before...

After explaining everything that happened within the fortress to Renali, the Guardians began their long trek back to Akrivel. The rain continued unhindered, but something about the jungle seemed different. Brilliant jungle animals crept about without fear, birds sang in the trees, and the breeze carried the smell of fresh growth. The journey to the Leopard tribe went by quite pleasantly.

They arrived at Akrivel days later to see most of the tribe waiting for them, each one adorned with brilliantly colored plates and festive cloths. "The heroes of the Mwangi!" they shouted. The Guardians were dressed in the latest Ekujae fashions and brought to the central pavilion of Akrivel for dancing, feasting, and celebration. The tribe was in high spirits and the Guardians were truly heroes in their eyes for stopping the Cinderclaws and the foul curse they had cast over the land.

Everything grew in silent when the Twin Leopards spoke up. "We have gathered the moths this evening to hear a story, so that it may be passed on for generations to come." Shocked murmurs spread through the gathered elves as muted balls of light began to drift gently down from the treetops. "A new tribe has been born through their deeds this day. They stood in defense of the jungles as though it was their sacred duty." As one, the Twin Leopards cast their hands toward a low brazier which burned with a cool, blue flame. "Place your hands within the fire, champions, and it will show you the shape of your destiny."

The young woman froze. "But... but I am the translator for the Leopard tribe, I can't-"

Jahsi interrupted her with a smile. "There comes a time for all of us to leave the tribe and find a new home. It is a part of our great journey. You will see a world that only your mother knew and be there to follow these heroes and their great story." Nketiah was at a loss for words, but - with tears in her eyes - smiled and embraced her father as the celebrations continued.

The Twin Leopards were not finished, however, and they pulled the Guardians away to a massive tree deep within the treetop city. "We have been the protectors of the ancient temple and its key for time untold. Yet we failed. The hunter's arrowhead was stolen away from us and nearly brought ruin to your land." One of the twins traced her fingers around the bark of the tree and the Guardians watches as the wood began to reshape itself. Within was a massive starknife that seemed to drink in the surrounding light. "This is Eclipse," they intoned. "This is both blade and key that were gifted to us to help seal away The Great Darkness. It is better now in your care." The party looked at the ancient weapon whose edge showed no sign of wear. The power thrummed in Uhn's hands as he attached it to his belt. The festivities continued long into the night, and the heroes enjoyed their first real night of peaceful sleep in more than a month.

When the morning came, the Guardians and Nketiah bid farewell to the Leopard tribe, happy to have put a stop to the Cinderclaws. The world was safe. Renali met them at the gate back to Citadel Altaerein, and explained that while she greatly missed her family, her time with the heroes imparted to her a sense of duty. She pledged to join them where ever their adventures next lead them. The new team passed confidently through Huntergate and returned to Isger, ready to see all of the faces they had left behind so long ago.

As they returned to Alesta's Ring, the cool breeze sent a shiver through the group. They had just left the tropical jungles of the south only to return to the autumn chill of the north. The sensation was still surprising for the travelers. However, the urge to unpack their belongings and get to their beds was interrupted by the sounds of worried voices and panic. Wrin closed his eyes for a moment, arcane energies swirling around him invisibly. When he left his reverie, he looked to his allies, his face stern. "We need to move, fast."

They charged up the stairs to the courtyard, passing citizens of Breachill who stared at the heroes in disbelief.

"They're back!" "They have come in our time of need." "The protectors have been sent to us by the archmage!" The voices all blurred into a single droning as Wrin urged the Guardians up to the battlements. There Rorsk Axebane stood in piecemeal armor, shouting orders to the people who stormed through the castle courtyard. Beyond him, distant fires could be seen burning from atop Breachill's buildings.

Rorsk's jaw dropped as the Guardians stared at the trail of refugees that carried what few goods that could hold up the twisting path to Citadel Altaerein. "Ye, Ye're back!" he shouted. His beard shook with joy and he locked eyes with Uhn. "An' not a moment too late. Ye're tribe's come ta pay a house call."

Uhn's eyes narrowed. "Pheh, Fim. Loquacious bitch." He hefted Choppy and began to push his way through the refugees.

"What happened? What started all of...," Inagra gestured toward the huddled citizenry in the courtyard, "this?"

Rorsk shook his head angrily. "Damned if I know how it started, but a few buildings caught fire a few hours back. Jus' as soon as tha', we had goblins chasin' people through the streets atop their damned wolves. Some o' the Black Lanterns are still in there, but they ain't winnin' against all them goblin tribes."

Viggo looked through the crowd. "There's a few people who haven't made it here yet." His words seemed detached. "Crink, Roxy, Greta Gardania-"

"Warbal." Wrin's eyes snapped open, leaving his arcane trance once more. "We don't have time to waste if we want to save her." He pushed his way through the courtyard after Uhn, his heavy armor clanking down the stone steps. Inagra and Viggo quickly followed suit.

Wrin sped down the mountain pass as his friends caught up with him. Ahead of the sorcerer, throngs of Breachill citizens scattered as Uhn bulled ahead, Choppy held tight in his hands. A throaty bellow escaped from his throat and he began to charge forward, growing in size as he did. His steps reverberate through the hills as he barreled past a small unconscious form and into a pack of goblin wolf riders.

"Is that Warbal?!" Inagra exclaimed, already calling her spells to bear. The small goblin lay face down in a pool of her own blood. A hodgepodge of books radiated out from her prone form, and her fine robes were covered in numerous deep cuts. Wrin's face, usually impassive, was twisted in rage as he hurled a massive fireball into the goblins, tossing them from their saddles. Goblin limbs went flying off in gory arcs as Choppy moved rhythmically up and down through the raiders.

Viggo ran over to Warbal, helping her to her feet as Inagra's healing magic washed over her. The young goblin blinked and stood on unsteady legs, large red eyes tearing up at the sight of the half-elf. "Oh, Viggo! I've missed you!" she shouted, trying to wrap him in a quick embrace.

He held her at bay with an outstretched hand. "Yes, yes... of course. I, er, missed you, too." Behind the two, Uhn finished snapping the neck of one of the raiders beneath his heel.

"Come along, loverboy," Wrin muttered, slamming his plated shoulder into the alchemist. "In case you forgot, the whole town is burning down and we're late to the party."

Warbal waved after them. "Stay safe, Viggo!" she called. "I'd like to talk with you soon!"

"Just as friends, though!" he shouted back.

Inagra shout him a glare. "You're a real prick, you know that?" The half-elf only shrugged.

When the Guardians reached the outskirts of Breachill they stared in shock. The outlying farms were trampled to the ground and bodies were scattered across the ground. Above the town walls, numerous banners flew, all goblin tribes from the days of the Goblinblood Wars: Yellowbelly, Toadsucker, Wolfsong, Scalehoarder... Uhn hefted Choppy once more, the rage building in his chest again. The cold mailed hand of Wrin caught him on the shoulder, however.

"We don't go in without a plan." The half-orc gestured to a hastily sketched map of Breachill that he drew into the dirt. "How many goblins belong to these tribes, Uhn?" He pointed to the multicolored banners that flew in the darkening skies. Ominous black smoke concealed their more obscene markings.

The barbarian furrowed his brow. "The Scalehoarders number in the hundreds themselves. Would that I could pontificate further on the other tribes."

"So that rules out the frontal assault." Wrin studied the map more closely. He began striking out a few points of entrance.

"Hey, wait, why not around the back, near the sawmill?" Inagra asked.

"That place is doubtlessly heavily guarded. It would be the first place that any smart commander would set up guards to ensure a clean supply line." He jabbed his finger on the eastern gate. "Here's our best chance. We stick to the walls and we can make a straight shot to Monument Circle. We would doubtlessly find your mother there." Uhn growled again. "We take her out, and the goblins will have no one to rally around."

Viggo stared at the armored spellcaster suspiciously. "Wait, we can't just do this based on your feelings. What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not." Wrin clutched the golden sword at his side. "I know what I'm doing."

Smoke gathered in the sky as Breachill continued to burn. Inagra enacted a water walking spell for the group as they skirted around the town, staying clear of any wayward goblin patrols. and stood just out of sight of the eastern gate. Not far from them, a massive ogre leaned on a massive anchor that he appeared to be using as a makeshift weapon. "They have... fucking ogres, too?" Viggo hissed.

"Fim is an idiot, but she's a charming idiot." Uhn's voice was detached and cold. He was somewhere else entirely.

"Don't worry about the ogre," Inagra concentrated on her divine magic, staring intently at the ogre and murmuring under her breath. The Guardians watched as the ogre seemed to scream and beat itself for a moment before wandering back into the burning town. "Problem solved," she smirked.

"For now," Wrin added with a defeated scowl.

The group hurried inside the town walls, slipping between buildings and avoiding the pillaging goblins. Goblins of all shapes and sizes danced through the streets singing horrible songs and hacking at anything that resembled a human. The Guardians tried not to make their presence known, but took the time to skillfully take out a handful of goblins, and even managed to rescue the owner of Quarters & Bits, Crink Twiddleton. Before long, after dodging collapsing buildings and sneaking past numerous patrols, they arrived at Monument Circle. There, standing tall atop the statue of Lamond Breachton, was Fim Scalehoarder. Blood dripped from her hands and she exulted in the chaos the reigned around her.

With a barking laugh, she spotted Uhn. "It looks like my failed child has come to disappoint me again."

"Enough of this, mother!" Fim shouted back, falling into his blood rage easily.

"Enough of what? Finishing what we started all those years ago? Putting these damned longshanks in their place? You're pathetic to have thrown in with them. A disgrace to Scalehoarders!"

Uhn howled and grew to his massive fighting size. "You know nothing, you... you... injudicious gobdaw!"

That gave the goblin chieftain pause. "You made a pact with that damned dragon, didn't you!" She jabbed an accusatory finger at the golden scale that hung around Uhn's neck.

Viggo looked warily around the town center-cum-arena. "Uh... guys?" He gestured towards the anchor-wielding ogre that approached with an unsightly looking goblin leading him.

"Grix and Dumbell are here to deal with your friends, Uhn," Fim cracked her knuckles. "You and I settle this."

"BIIIIIIIIIG BUMBLE!" came the echoing call.

"What the hell is a Big-?" Fim rounded in just enough time to catch a massive bear slamming into her followed by an avalanche of haphazard, flailing cuts from the Bumblebrashers. Inagra took her chance and called forth a spell of fear sending Grix screaming away from the oversized ursine. Uhn swung Choppy back in a cleaving arc, never breaking eye contact with his mother. The frightened goblin's jaw went sailing off in a graceless tumble while the rest of his body collapsed over the side of the pavilion. Dumbell stared helplessly, unsure of what to do now that his friend had just been condemned to a gruesome end within Breach Creek.

Uhn stood over Fim, blood and anger dribbling from his lips.

"I should have eaten you when you were young," she coughed. With tired, shaking hands, she pulled the crown of scales from off her head. It was the first time that Uhn had seen his mother's face. It was burnt and scarred, appearing like a rotting gourd with two hateful pinpricks for eyes. Marring her visage further were a set of claw marks mirroring Uhn's own scars. "I have met your dragon as well," she spat. "He works for this town's precious founder." She tilted her head back to the looming stature above her. Uhn's eyes narrowed, but he held Choppy high. "Go ahead and do it, you obnoxious brat. But before you do... I curse you." Inagra's eyes went wide behind her goblin friend. "I curse you Uhn so that the Scalehoarder name dies with me. So long as you carry that name, any progeny you sire shall come out twisted, broken, and weak! I CURSE YOU!" Her words turned into a bloody gurgle as Uhn plunged Choppy into her neck, skewering her against Breachton's statue.

Wrin clapped Uhn on the shoulder and went to speak with the ogre, who sat by the river, mourning the loss of his friend. Viggo avoided making eye contact with Warbal as he left Uhn to his thoughts. Inagra opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Uhn stared at his mother's cooling body.

Breachill burned around them.

Coming next: Tomorrow Must Burn.

-Dungeon Master