Gabe3e

7-8 Alturiak, 1358DR
[Game of September 25, 2004]

The dining room doors swing wide, and a stout dwarf sits in the middle of the table, food stuck in his beard with more being shoveled into his mouth. He pauses and looks at the rest of the group. “Don’t ask,” Erum Stonegrinder grunts. The others look on in confusion, wondering how he arrived and what his purpose was.

Gwynn, shaken from her reverie, glares at Galeon further. She draws G’kar aside, “Question the halfling, find out how much the church is involved.”

Galeon returns his gaze to Jaran, “Alright, let me think about it.”
G’kar: “Something else you can tell us, why should we not throw you in jail?”
Galeon: “The laws here say I can do this. Don’t worry about it.”
G’kar: “But you have to remember you are committing treason in Tethyr.”
Gwynn: “Are you aware of your customers alliances with the church of Bane?

The dinner interrogation is interrupted by a polite knock on the door. The servant peeks in, “My lord, you have visitors.”
Gaelon: “Who is it?”
Servant: “Someone very important is here to see you, my lord.
G’kar: Someone important
Servant: Please my lord, don’t make me turn him away.
Gaelon: Is this a business dealing?
Servant: I would say so my lord.
G’kar stops Gaelon before he leaves. “We have much more to discuss.”
Gaelon: “I must answer my door.
Jaran: “Kalcryx, go with him. You look the least like who you are.”
Kalc’s features shift until he appears to be an acolyte of Waukeen. The invisible pixie follows behind. The head down a short hall into the

The front door swings open. Kalc whispers a message to the rest, “There are a bunch of guards outside.” A soldier approaches. “My lord, we have it on the highest authority that we are to search this house.” Kalcryx pipes in, “But Galeon, you were teaching 101 ways to make a profit!” Galeon glances at Kalcryx. Kalc slams the door shut, throwing the bolt.

Man calls out again, telling them to open the door or face the consequences.
The door shudders with impact.
Galeon and Kalcryx retreat and bolt the inner doors.
The rest of the group rushes to the front room.
Galeon protested, not wishing to leave his new home, his potential profit, his servants. Eventually Jaran convinced him.
With the servant, galeon, and the rest, Jaran casts shadow walk. Just as the shadows coalesce around them, the door breaks open and a furious man steps in, “We’ll find you halfling.”

After some brief discussion, they journey through the edge of shadow to Velen.
Gwynn insists on making an appointment with the high lady of Velen as soon as possible. Despite the late hour they go through the city to the gates of the Lady’s keep. The door opens, and Gwynn requests an audience in the early morning, at the Lady’s convenience. The guard takes the message, and the group heads back to Jaran’s tower.

Gwynn and Erum watch Galeon. Lyta tries to convince Jaran of something Jaran had already decided earlier in the night. They go to speak with Gwynn about her plans for Galeon. Lyta argues her case, and Gwynn is still speechless from rage with Galeon’s betrayal.

The group sleeps.

With Erum watching Galeon, the others try to decide the best course. Everyone agrees that Galeon would be more useful aiding Tethyr, but that Gwynn must follow her knightly duty and have him tried in a court of law. Lyta, and others, feel that the court will likely just pronounce his sentence, given their last experience went so badly.

Gwynn leaves the keep for her appointment with Lady Zaranda. Gwynn explains the happenstance, and says she feels that Galeon is guilty of treason with the state. Zaranda’s decision, “I have faith in your decision. We shall execute him immediately.” Gwynn pales visibly, and discusses her desire for a proper trial. Zaranda relents. The guards lead Galeon away, with Gwynn’s insistance of high guard.

At some point around here, Gwynn offers Galeon the choice of either clemency by admitting his guilt now, or to throw himself upon the mercy of the court. Galeon is allowed to pray to Waukeen for guidance. He wishes some privacy, and he is allowed only one guard of his choosing, G’kar Truehammer. The invisible pixie, Rowan, remains in the room, listening in. G’kar, less skilled in magic, fails to understand what Galeon does. Rowan discerns that Galeon casts a sending, and though he doesn’t understand the language he memorizes the words to parrot to the others. The guard returns, and Rowan recites. They vaguely interpret it as a call to someone, asking them to bring something and telling them where money is. He tells them when his trial will be. When Galeon returns with his answer, he tells Gwynn that he will trust in the court. He wants to be an example for Waukeenar to trust in their goddess.

The trial begins, the three judges file into the large square audience chamber and seat themselves upon a raised bench. Guards flank Galeon, and three more cover the entrance. The six adventurers sit upon the side benches to observe until called upon.

The judges call for Galeon’s plea, and he states his belief that he did no wrong. The judges seem confused, and call for Gwynn’s testimony. She feels that Galeon fails to understand the judgement put before him. That it is not about the right to sell goods, but the traitorous act of selling arms to the opposing army, endangering his country, friends and family alike.

Gwynn returns to her seat. The room hushes.

Out of nowhere, four figures appear in the room, just behind Galeon Silverfoot: two humanoid shapes swathed in robes, the stalwart woman from the Athkatlan docks, and the furious guardsman from Galeon’s front door.

The woman steps forward. “You shall learn to never toy with me!” Her voice raises in a plea to her vile god, and the air rends. Sulferous smoke gushes from the gaping hole, and a burning red-skinned fiend emerges, tail lashing savagely. Spells get thrown madly from all sides, a blade barrier is erected, but the four figures escape with Galeon in tow. Only the pit fiend remains.

Kalcryx and G’kar rush into melee, while Lyta and Jaran stay back and lob spells. Gwynn and Erum provide ranged support. Rowan calls upon the power of nature to aid Kalc’s aim. Kalcryx falls as he stands toe to toe with the beast, and Jaran jumps through the whirling wall of blades, unscathed, to heal him with a spell stored from her ring. Flame and rock fill the chamber as the fiend calls upon his granted powers. Gwynn and Erum are frozen with the power of the fiend’s blasphemous words, while the rest are stunned and weakened. Lyta gets held by some further magick. More spells get thrown, more weapons pummel the fiend’s tough hide.

Slowly but steadily, everyone begins to wear down. Kalcryx makes one last attempt, and with an enchantment to dispel the evil fiend’s summoning upon him, he tries to bite the fiend. His teeth sink deep into the fiend’s flesh, but the magic has no effect. With magically preternatural speed, he bites again, and again the teeth sink deep. The fiend’s knees crumple, and just as the body strikes the ground, it disappears.

Gwynn swings the chamber doors wide, and smoke gushes out of the room. A cadre of guards stand ready on the other side. Gwynn looks confused, “Why did you not come to our aid?” The captain looks abashed, “We were waiting to see who would open the door. If it were you, we would know all was well…”

The Past

It feels as if I was never young. As if I sprung fully formed from the womb with the weight of my heritage upon my shoulders.

My mother did not expect me to be as I am, grey of skin with a shock of white hair. She had been savaged by the encroaching drow, left for dead upon the forest floor. When her husband found her, he tended her to health. When her belly rounded with pregnancy, they rejoiced, the past forgotten like a bad dream. It was an occasion they had prayed for, for many years.

But they did not anticipate me. The midwife was stoic, but practical. “Leave her to the wolves,” she said, “one such as that will only bring you grief.” My mother, frail with the effort of the difficult birth, clutched me tight, denying anything could be wrong with her child. She never fully recovered from that weakness and the incessant disdain of the other villagers, and when she died five years later, her husband feigned to ignore my existence.

It was a warm summer night when I left. The moon was full, casting the trees in a silvery brilliance. The woods called to me, tempting my tender feet with soft grass, blossoms hidden behind curtains of new leaves. I have always felt the call of the road, and with nothing left to bind me I was quick to wander.

The taunting of the village children paled beside the torture I was to later endure.

He seemed to be kind, more so than any other human I had encountered so far. I was thin, shivering with cold and hunger. I was an easy mark, as they say. It took only a few words and the promise of warm food to crumble my resolve. With my delicate hand dwarfed within his, he led me off to his tower, deep within the woods.

That night I slept indoors. The ragged blanket did little to soften the hard stone floor of my cell, but it took the bite off the chill air. I never knew when he was watching. It was difficult, over time, to discern reality from illusion. The shadows would comfort me, whispering in sibilant voices when the long days stretched without contact. Still, I watched and listened, soaking up what little I could glean from the wizard’s infrequent and stumbling arcane recitations. I bided my time.

He finally slipped. He was drunk, made incautious by his presumed familiarity with me. He forgot to cast his spell of sleeping, and when the door swung wide I was ready. His blood glowed with furious intensity in my vision as I stabbed him with the sharpened rat bone. He fell back, and in a frenzy I continued. I must have escaped into the woods.

I came to at a small stream, blood drying brown upon my shredded clothes. I scrubbed for hours, trying to remove the taint. With a mixture of hope and despair, I fled south. The road beckoned, and Waterdeep swallowed me in its impassionate embrace, hiding me from the wizard. I took refuge in the huddled masses.

I do not know to this day if I killed him. If I should see him again, I shall finish the job.

(6 Alturiak 1358DR)

He becomes uncomfortable at dinner, avoiding my companions’ questions. What is this business about a girl’s ghost? Overzealousness?

I corner him after the meal.

“It seems you have kept things from me,” I say. I insist. I plead.

I see him smile, and he says, “Of course” in that way he has, that way he’s always had. The door closes behind him, between him and me.

I am the pearl of the Athunsun family. It was my duty to elevate us from the mud, and he has usurped me, become the saviour in my place. Yet I have kept nothing from him, not my admiration, not even my envy. He entrusts nothing to me in return. He needs nothing from me.

I misbehave. I pound on the door, bellowing something I regret as soon the words pass my lips.

And then, as always, I remember…

He is a boy, standing on the bank above me, and I am in the trench, mud smeared to my elbows. He laughs to his brother, “The Pearl looks more like a pig!” I am too young to understand anything but the pain of being mocked. I wouldn’t have been there if he hadn’t challenged me to jump.

I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t challenged me to jump.

As always, I love him.

As always, I want to beat that smug smile from his face.

5-7 Alturiak, 1358 DR
[Game of September 18th, 2004]

Curiousity overwhelming them regarding the returned Captain Donovan, the group quickly shovels the dragon’s horde into the portable hole. Despite the sheer weight of the gold, it becomes quickly apparent that the gold is just a glittering sheet covering the hard rock beneath. Still, the cavern is wide, and when all is counted up, it amasses to a small fortune.

Kalcryx carefully lays G’kar’s body to rest within the hole, spread upon the scattered gold. Picking up the edges of the hole, Jaran folds it closed and places it within her pocket. Grabbing hold of Kalcryx and Gwynn, she mutters some arcane words and they vanish, reappearing within Jaran’s guildhouse.

With an irritated tone, Jaran says, “Damn. I missed.” She opens the guildhouse doors and heads next door to her house, Kalcryx and Gwynn following behind. In the main house, Lyta comes up the back stairs with Falderian. Lyta positively glows with the excitement of using her newly acquired spell.

They quickly head to Kalcryx’s keep, a mile away through the woods surrounding Velen. Kalcryx enters the great hall and asks to speak with his highest cleric, Johan of Helm. Johan, slightly stooped with age and the weight of his thick platemail, hurries out of a side door and speaks with Kalcryx, “Yes sir, Donovan and his wizard have already retired to their ship. I’ll send a runner with you to show you the way.”

The runner takes them to the docks, where a familiar looking ship is docked. Although the same size and bearing the same name, the Bard’s Lament now sports many deck-side weapons: ballistas, small shot catapults, as well as rows of iron spikes embedded in the hull. The runner announces their arrival, and the sailors give them permission to board.

They are escorted to the captain’s quarters, where a scruffy, muscular man sits next to a table. Opposite him, an older gentleman with white hair and a neatly trimmed white beard, sporting blue speckled robes and a thin sword that hangs from his belt. Although older, he also seems muscular beneath his robes. Jaran tenses slightly as she spots him.

Donovan stands, and says “Welcome, friends, please enter and have a seat.” The older man rises and Donovan continues, “Allow me to introduce Sir Maximillian Zafir al Zazzespur, ship’s… artillery.”

They have met him before, although not formally. He looks towards the group with a raised eyebrow and proclaims absently, “Well met.”

Donovan motions for them to sit, and begins:

“Some time ago, as we sailed behind enemy lines, off the coast of Amn, we dropped some men off to serve as reconnaisance. They were my most trusted and skilled rangers. One of them returned. He brought me ill news from the port of Athkatla.”

“A great fleet of ships is being manned and armed, ready for some kind of massive invasion. A powerful Amnite has secured quality arms, alchemical weapons, armour, and siege weaponry to outfit his invasion force with.”

“More disturbing, the doors to the great halls of Bane have remained closed and guarded, only opened as men and women are led inside. He does not know what deeds are being done, only that these men and woman are brought in bearing chains and escorted by bestial servants.”

“One of the great merchant houses of Athkatla is involved, although my ranger could not say what the extent what, or the identity of the noble.”

“By his estimates, the ships will be ready in less than 20 days, and could reach our shores another week after that. He fled the region as soon as he could, and joined us as we rendezvous’ed with a Waukeenar vessel he had purchased passage on.”

“Although I’d trust him with my life, we have passed him through…”
Maximillian finishes “… divinations.”
“To ensure that he is truthful in his identity and his story.”

“We came to you as soon as we could. Our ships are occupied with the current Amnite fleet, and we do not have the resources to mobilize a secondary fleet to counter the incoming warships.”

“I rest our fate in your competent hands, my friends.”

The group sits in shock for several moments, trying to digest this latest news. Everyone begins to ask questions at once. Information flies back and forth as they attempt to plan their next action. Gwynn is firmly committed to informing her superiors, before all else.

6 alt
teleport to zaz, talk to zonas about fleet
send to commander of forces, silverhand, about fleet
teleport to waterdeep, true resurrect g’kar
buy gems

7 alt
shadow walk to outside athkatla
disguise the party, the pixie’s dog gets left outside, kalc is placed in the hole
enter the city, buy maps, rent a room
finish kalc’s slippers, buy kalc a hat of diguise
spy on athkatla
rowan the pixie watches northern docks, mori the familiar wanders the area as well
lyta uses prying eyes to blanket the southern docks
break up negotiations with gaelon and dock worker woman
have dinner with gaelon?

5 Alturiak, 1358 DR
[Game of September 11th, 2004]

The warriors wade through the mud at the cave entrance, as the wizards manage to skirt over it, and the chase begins down the long tunnel entrance. Sunlight fades quickly as the tunnel slopes deeper into the earth. The dragon disappears quickly from sight, and a long minute goes by until finally the tunnel widens into a vast cavern. Gwynn slows to a walk and sucks in her breath, “Holy Mystra.”

Gold glints in the meager illumination provided by Gwynnedh’s torch, huge mountains piled high along the edges of the room, making a comfortable nest in the center. A pool of water fills the middle of the room, its depths black. The others funnel in behind her, spreading out around the tunnel entrance.

The surface of the pool ripples, bowing upwards, and black wings unfurl from beneath, spraying the area with a fine mist. The dragon rises up, hovering in the air, and exclaims, “You should not have come.” A scroll unfurls from its claw, and as it reads the in a gravelly chant, it’s body swells in size filling almost a quarter of the room.

Almost as if in answer, G’kar and Kalcryx shrink back to their normal size, their spells running out. Lyta steps forward confidently and gestures at the dragon. The dragon snarls in anger as he also shrinks back to his original size. Stone sloughs off his scales and his muscles shrink slightly.

Jaran slips around the edge of the lair, her eyes flitting over the piles of gold in search of the lost hammer. The dragon brings its claw across its body, drawing an imaginary line along the party. “Stay a while” An invisible wall springs up, blocking Lyta and Jaran off behind, and preventing the rest from retreating. The wall is low though, and the lair too tall to be blocked off completely.

The dragon growls in draconic, “Give me the wizard’s liquid, and we may strike
a bargain.” Air rushes past as the dragon inhales, and out spews glistening acid, washing over G’kar, Gwynn and her mount, Hadrian. The acid washes off Gwynn and G’kar, but Hadrian writhes beneath the onslaught. Gwynn winces at the pain endured by her steed, and dismisses him before he gets targeted by another attack. G’kar, not understanding draconic, fires off an arrow, which plunges through the dragons thickly scaled hide. Others follow suit, but the missiles ricochet off harmlessly.

Lyta, not caring to make a bargain, levitates above the edge of the force wall. Swinging her staff in front of her, she conjures a raging storm of snow and plummeting ice chunks. Jaran flies closer to the entrance and tries to enfeeble the dragon with magic, but the spell fizzles against the dragons powerful aura. “Why should we trust a bargain with you,” Jaran asks in Draconic. Whispering to her party she relays the dragon’s command.

The dragon responds, “Decide quickly,” and rises up thirty feet into the air. Lyta, not daunted in the slightest and not prone to stopping any fight, begins casting an enfeebling ray. The dragon, seeing Lyta continue to attack, beats her to the punch and tosses a shimmering purple ray at her. She deftly avoids it, and her green ray strikes true, withering the dragons muscles.

The dragon continues to pursue Lyta, “I hope for your sake that you’re the one who has it.” In desperation Lyta calls upon her magic to make shimmering duplicates. The dragon snaps her into its jaws while she’s distracted and pulls her close.

Frost and lightning slash out from all sides, pummeling the dragon little by little. Kalcryx calls upon Helm’s holy power, and a spherical glowing aura burns the dragon, narrowly missing the struggling half-elf in it’s jaws.

Jaran slips her familiar to the ground, mentally commanding it to search out the chamber and find G’kar’s hammer. The cat disappears into the shadows. Then Jaran throws a lance of disruption at the dragon, again asking her friends, “Are we not bargaining then?”

G’kar bellows, “No! We’re not bargaining!” G’kar throws his axes at the dragon in a fury, but they fly wide. The dragon breathes acid around the squirming woman in his mouth, focusing the spray at G’kar. The acid sloughs around Lyta, leaving her unharmed, and coating G’kar in a fine mist.

The dragon flies over the raised pool and dives beneath the surface, taking Lyta with it. Lyta struggles in its mouth but fails to get free, trying desperately to hold her breath. The dragon releases Lyta deep within the pool. The others, with a moment’s respite, step towards the pools rippling edge. The dragon bursts from the water, and Kalcryx and Gwynn pound upon it mercilessly. The dragon flies out and grabs the dwarf, dropping him into the pool as well. Lyta sees G’kar’s huge blob of magic above her, sinking quickly. G’kar flails in the water and sinks below the surface, his armor weighing him down. He pulls a potion of haste from his belt and quaffs, swallowing the cork. G’kar stows his shield, but his weight is still too great. Lyta levitates upwards, gauging the speed of the magical G’kar blob plummeting downwards. Lyta finally manages to drift beneath G’kar and grab hold. She levitates further up to the shimmering surface. Lyta, seeing the dragon’s shadow shifting above her, draws a scroll despite the water and casts dimension door, falling through the shifting doorway and dragging G’kar with her. They fall with a rush of water upon a bed of coins, slightly dazed.

Jaran, seeing her companions free of the water, sends a blast of cold over the pool, freezing the surface over. Gwynn steps up on the ice and thrusts her spear at the dragon. “Now it is out of your reach,” the dragon growls. The dragon focuses a flurry of attacks upon the nearby Gwynn. Jaran, finding a vulnerable spot, throws an icy melf at the dragon. It burns into its hide. Gwynn, focusing her faith behind her spear, guts the dragon true, then brings her spear around for another blow. The dragon, furious with Gwynn, smacks her further, her stony skin buffering the blows slightly, but still she gets rocked back by the power behind them. The stone sloughs off Gwynn’s skin and the dragon’s tail hones in for a final hit.

Falderian continues to meander along the edges of the piles of gold, casually pocketing useful looking items while looking for the hammer. Looking at the enraged dragon, he whispers, “Uh, maybe we should leave now.”

Lyta stands, dripping wet and hair damp around her face, and throws a lance at the dragon. She frosts the dragon with another cone, then edges towards a wand on the ground. Jaran throws her third and final icy arrow at the dragon, and the accumlated frost burns, the first bolt finally fading.

Kalc opens a tiny pouch, pulling a much larger bottle out, and chugs a glowing red liquid. Gwynn, in dire straits, lays her hand upon herself and a healing glow suffuses her. Her wounds stop bleeding and fade slightly. She steps closer to Kalcryx, backing away from the dragon.

G’kar pulls his shield off his back and stalks towards the dragon, his wet padding causing a small river of runoff among the coins below his feet. The dragon swings his head around towards G’kar, its fury against dwarves overtaking it, and it snaps up G’kar in its mouth, flying high overhead and releasing him in the air. Jaran looks at G’kar plummeting through the air and waits for him to get closer to the ground. Just as he’s about to smash in to the piles of gold, she throws her arms out towards him, and he floats gently to the ground, hammer at the ready. The dragon dives at G’kar, jaws clamping tight around him yet again.

Lyta curls her hand into a ball, small balls of fire lighting in her palm. 14 balls of flame fly at the dragon, scorching it. Kalcryx draws a short rod from his belt, and lightning jags through the dragons body. G’kar struggles against the powerful clench.

The dragon mutters in draconic, around the squirming dwarf, “Give them to me or I will hold you up here and breathe on you until you die.” Acid streams around G’kar, some sloughing off and some sinking beneath the skin. The dragon circles around high in the cave.

Lyta tries to follow the glowing magic aura of the dwarf, but as the dragon nears the cavern wall, the aura passes beyond her arcane sight. She casts fly and pursues, drawing a second staff out. Kalcryx scans the air above, and steps upon the air as if it had steps, walking towards the sound of flapping wings.

The dragon continues to soar upward, and grumbles “I can already feel the acid in my throat.” G’kar whispers to his friends, “I assume the dragon wishes the vials, but destroy them. Do not worry about me. My life is forfeit compared to the cause.” The dragon, in a low growling common, says, “You are too brave for
your own good, and mine. Will you raise my mate and leave my lair?”
G’kar considers carefully, “Depends.”
The dragon, obviously angry, “Yes, or breath.”
G’kar persists: “Return my hammer!”
The dragon bellows, “Raise my partner, leave my lair, and I’ll drop the dwarf. Yes or no!”

Lyta messages: “Should I attack it?”
Jaran: “You heard G’kar.”
G’kar: “No…er, I mean yes.”
Kalc: “Yes”
Gwynn: “Yes”
Lyta mutters, “Fuck it,” and throws a bead of conjured fire towards the beast. The dragon, seeing the bead of flame flying towards it, bites down on G’kar and spews more dripping acid on the dwarf’s sad body. The fireball gets through the dragon’s natural resistance, and the dragon’s wings furl, it’s lifeless body plummeting towards the ground. Kalcryx runs towards the falling dwarf, but by the time he draws near he sees he is too late.

300ft down the water pool, tunnels bends back towards the surface, exiting on the side of the cliff face. At the bottom of the pool is the dwarven thrower hammer.

gargantuan dragon - female
huge dragon - male

In the early night, kalc receives from cohort:
master, a young captain donovan has arrived with alarming news for you.
His ship is docked in velen. He requests an audience with you immediately.

Kalc: Very well, I will see you in Velen either today or tomorrow. Keep up the
good work. Find a someone who can cast true ressurection.

2-5 Alturiak, 1358 DR
[Game of September 4th, 2004]

Seeing the gargantuan dragon disintegrating the blocking wall of iron, Jaran steps further into the cave to touch the two closest warriors. With a call to Falderian to retreat back to Lyta, Jaran steps through a conjured dimensional opening, dragging Kalcryx and G’kar with her. The door snaps shut. Falderian retreats back to Lyta.

Unfortunately the very large and very perturbed dragon acts more quickly, and dashes forward bellowing in Draconic. Only Lyta understands the dragon’s ire.

“What have you done!? Where is the wizard? Where is my reward? Where are my thralls?”

With the dragon looming over her, Lyta grabs hold of Falderian and Erum and tries to hurry through the casting of a similar escape. The dragon, waiting for just such an attempt, reaches its head down, latching upon Lyta’s arm and wrenching it. Lyta grits through the pain and finishes the spell, and the three adventurers disappear from the cave, reappearing several hundred feet away within the depths of the swamp.

Jaran, expecting the rest to arrive, already has the portable hole open. Others jump into the dimensional hole, ears wide listening for the flapping of great wings. Jaran snaps up the hole, and conjuring an image of her home in her mind, teleports to Velen and relative safety.

Several days pass as the party decides on the best course of action to defeat this greater threat. Lyta travels to Zazesspur to recruit Gwynnedh to the cause, only to lose the dwarf Erum in Mosstone to religious duties. At long last Alexander, the Amnite mage of Weatherford, is resurrected to become the resident mage of Mosstone and local representative of Jaran’s guild. Much magical preparation is done, spells learned, scrolls crafted, items enchanted and equipment identified. During one night, Jaran is gifted by an unearthly presence, which on the morning manifests itself as a faint tattoo and a sudden magical ability.

Two days later, the morning of battle, a prolific amount of protective spells are cast. Minutes go by and, feeling prepared if not courageous, the six teleport back to the edge of the cave entrance, on a cliff high above the swamp. The half-orc thrall awaits them there, warning the dragon within of their arrival. After clamboring out of the dimensional hole used for transportation, the warriors make short work of the orc, and the wizards enter the cave entrance.

The dragon, invisible, flies past Jaran to savage Lyta. Confusion ensues until the invisibility is dispelled. The dragon manages to carve into a few people, but eventually gets pushed back by the combined might of magic and weaponry. The dragon flees back into the cave entrance, blocking itself in with several invisible walls of force. Lyta disintegrates several, but finally in disgust decides to reduce half of the cliff face into mud, causing a spectacular collapse and a gust of wind. As the dust settles, a narrow but mud-slick path leads past the invisible wall of force. The dragon, seeing Gwynn and G’kar wading past the mud choked path, flees deeper into its lair.