In the labyrinthine corridors beneath Waterdeep, our intrepid adventurers, found themselves in a precarious pause taking a much-needed respite, with Hat nursing injuries from an encounter that proved a bit too steamy. The room, with its quartet of mysterious pools, had imparted visions upon the group—visions that Thalmiir suspected were linked to the enigmatic “The That Which Endures.” While the others mulled over this revelation, Pebblesong’s keen eye discerned nuances in the runes surrounding them, a mismatched blend of familiar forms and something distinctly otherworldly, marked by a recurring motif that beckoned further investigation.
With vigor renewed and curiosity piqued, the group pressed on, only for Thalmiir to find himself singed by a cunning trap—an ancient defense mechanism of fire that lashed out at his approach. The party, thanks to the combined arcane insights of Pebblesong and Hat, quickly deduced a pattern to the runes: a clear demarcation between those that lay dormant and those that seethed with fiery enchantment.
The ever-resourceful Hat, with a flourish of his artificer’s intuition, quelled the magical flames, albeit momentarily. Yet, the dungeon had more tricks up its sleeve; a pitfall opened beneath him, plunging him into the watery depths below. Here, Hat’s quick wits—and quick snack on a peculiarly spicy luminescent fish—were on full display.
Back above, Pebblesong’s practicality shone through as she extended a lifeline to the goblin. The fish, once more a pawn in the party’s hands, became an unwitting sensor, triggering another trap and transmuting its blue hue to an ominous green—echoing the mystical affliction that had transmuted rats in an earlier fray.
The last twist in the party’s subterranean saga unfolded with yet another impromptu use of aquatic ammunition. As the party inched towards the grand double doors, Hat, with a rogue’s mischievous twinkle, lobbed a bio-luminescent fish towards the suspiciously quiet exit. The moment it struck, an arcane explosion burst forth, a wave of magic billowing down the corridor. The party, seasoned in the art of evasion, leaped to safety, all but Waer’dara, who, in a flash of light, was gone from sight.
Thalmiir, never one to be deterred by vanishing allies or mystical barrages, shouldered the task at hand. With a heave of dwarven might, the door splintered under his assault, revealing a ghastly tableau. Zombies shuffled in the dimness, their groans a chorus of the crypt. The party, weapons in hand, leapt into the fray, the steel of their resolve as sharp as their blades.
The melee was a maelstrom of steel and sorcery. As one of the shambling figures lurched towards the light, the silhouette transformed, revealing not another creature of undeath but Waer’dara herself. A relieved sigh was lost amidst the clangor of combat as she rejoined the ranks, her own form mistaken for a foe in the poor lighting.
With the drow’s sudden reappearance, the group’s dynamic shifted seamlessly back into harmony, each member playing their part in the deadly dance. Thalmiir anchored the front line, his axe arcs a deadly pendulum. Pebblesong’s magic lashed out, vines ensnaring decayed limbs, while Hat’s inventions added a sizzle to the assault, melting undead flesh from bone.
As the battle raged within the confines of the chamber, the party fought with renewed vigor, their unity restored, and their determination unshaken. It was a testament to their bond, a band of disparate souls brought together by fate and a shared penchant for plunging headlong into the dark unknown.
Key Events