If there are any ritual sellers in Skull City, Lisbarr would be very pleased to have directions to said supplier.
After ushering the rest of the group into the darkness of the giant skull, Norrin poses briefly in front of the giant skull, wile holding aloft his magic sword.
By the power of Greyskull, the half-orc intones silently, thus reaffirming the covenant between Norrin and the swordwraith to continue the crusade against the unjust.
Njall's expression as the party reappear is a thing to behold. Swiftly counting heads, he looks hard at Anri.
"You're vouching for her? She doesn't smell like undead, but this is Skull City. I see you've lost the girl in the mask. A pity. She was a fine scrapper."
Njall listens as the long tale unfolds, nodding occasionally.
"You've rid the world of a mighty evil, but I doubt our service here will end. Skull City remains an abomination. Word of Moghadam's demise will reach them eventually, but that just leaves a power vacuum. Where will you go next?"
"Njall, would you happen to know a reputable weaponsmith in the area?" Norrin scans the crowd for the telltale apron of a blacksmith.
Njall looks at the Sunblade and calls to a lanky eladrin woman with telltale blisters on her fingers.
"Anastrianna, can you help here?"
She sniffs slightly, and take the blade from Norrin, holding it to the fire and running expert fingers over the weapon.
"Sun to Radiant is easy. Can fix the hilt too. Getting loose up there. You'd never know til it breaks."
"Guess I got so used to the wobbly hilt, I stopped noticing," remarks the rogue as he receives the improved blade from Anastrianna.
Taking a few steps back from any bystanders, Norrin tests the balance of the weapon, by attacking the air.
"Superb," is his verdict, finding the blade more lighter and accurate than he could ever imagine.
"There was eladrin named Mindressa, who was one of the unwilling guardians of Moghadam's tomb. After a slight misunderstanding, she was freed of her enchantment. And after informing us of her desire to war against Moghadam and his kind, was told she could find comrades amongst the Skullbreakers."
"We can vouch for her, too, in the event she's waiting in some kind of holding room."
"There is. She's out in a raiding party. Very bloodthirsty."
Anastrianna looks extremely pleased about that. "She nearly took Njall's kidneys out when he tested her combat readiness."
"Good for her," Lyan growls.
Anri spins the Staff of Storms in a well-practiced, but basic routine. After explaining briefly how she came to find herself in this mess, with asides here and there to the shopkeeper about what she wants, she comes to:
"...Well, as you can see, I know my way around a fight. In any case, yeah, the staff is quite nice. But it's just not my style. I'm more of a dagger-swift-as-the-wind kind of girl. So! Do you have something I can use?"
Over the best meal any of you have tasted in a while (which is not a high bar), Njall repeats his earlier question.
"Where will you go next?"
With the downfall of Moghadam, you have put an end to any threat from Skull City in the greater scheme of things. As Njall has said, there is still work to do, but for him and his troops rather than for you.
One thing was very clear. The ancient Tomb of Horrors was revitalised and then drained. That it was drained by Acererak seems certain, but for what fell purpose it yet unclear. Thus far, you have identified sites in the Shadowfell and on earth - as well as a known site in the Feywild. All three were channeling enormous power. Where that power has gone and what it might be used for seem to be the next questions to be answered.
Njall listens intently as you describe your adventures so far and makes a suggestion.
"Can that blade you found help?"
He nods respectfully at Ruinblade.
"There are teleportation circles here. They'll get you out of Skull City, but they're not set up for planar travel. We'll have to create a diversion for you as well, but that's our problem."
In response, Ruinblade speaks, its tones oddly overlaid with those of your lost companion.
"My purpose is to find and destroy Acererak. He is not on this plane. I would know it. Take me to Sigil and let the hunt begin."
"Can't get you to Sigil," comments Njall, "but I can get you to Freeport. You might find help there."
"As a scholar myself, I know that there are plenty of experts, as well as expert thieves, in Freeport."
"Freeport, huh? As long as it gets us toward him. Like the sword says."
"Right." Njall looks thoughtfully at Norrin. "You could be right there."
"So, we'll take a small skirmish party down to the docks for you. Ready?"
Norrin hands Anastrianna some sketches for improving the defences of the Haven, many of the suggestions incorporating parts the half-orc had scavenged from the defunct Tomb of Horrors.
"With a replenished supply of Dimber's, and food, I'm ready to set sail."
Lisbarr considers.
I have heard of much that is bad in Freeport but also much that needs to be put right in Sigil. I will go where I will do the most good to my kind. It may be that my destiny doesn't lie in Freeport. I need to be where I can fight evil most effectively. What would you suggest I do?
"Oh yeaaaah! I was drunk and hearing stories about Sigil in Freeport when I got dropped on you guys! ...if I find those sailors, I'm going to instruct them on the ancient secrets of my sensei, and his dread Tai Kwan Leep technique. It is meant only to be used against those who've performed extremely annoying misdeeds."
Anri cracks her knuckles at the thought of it.
Njall looks speculatively at Anri.
"Care to share some of those techniques?"
"Well, they're very simple really...step one is that they annoy you. Step two is secret technique: Boot-to-da-head!"
If you blink, you miss it, as her foot strikes out at an invisible target, and just as quickly returns to her side.
"I might be willing to teach it, IF you have someone whose inner balance is capable of wielding such a powerful technique."
Njall gathers a small team and leads the way to a formerly prosperous square. Ducking through back alleys and dodging around the murderous inhabitants of Skull City, he rapidly deploys he snipers to cover the area and points to the dusty teleportation circle.
The thing stutters into reluctant life as your presence is detected, followed almost at once my a flurry of missiles and shouts from the approaching enemies.
"Get going. That thing won't hold up long. We may meet again," he calls, before returning to the burgeoning skirmish.
The portal awaits.
Ruinblade drawn, Lyan hurtles through.
Norrin does likewise.
As the two move in, Rothel follows suit, secure that they will be there to protect him if anything lies beyond, and that he can heal them all the same.
Anri flips into the portal, ready for anything. After all, now she gets to find those sailors and have a bit of payback.
The smog-filled air and undead screams fade away abruptly to be replaced by bright sunlight and a profound stink of decaying fish. The portal drops you in a back alley, sputters and vanishes, leaving your briefly dazzled.
A swift inspection of your surrounding reveals a rubbish heap, a dead end, a rough wooden door and an exit into a wider street. From the street end, you can just see the glint of water and can assume that the docks lie beyond. From behind the gate, you can hear voices raised in conversation.
The smog-filled air and undead screams fade away abruptly to be replaced by bright sunlight and a profound stink of decaying fish. The portal drops you in a back alley, sputters and vanishes, leaving you briefly dazzled.
A swift inspection of your surrounding reveals a rubbish heap, a dead end, a rough wooden door and an exit into a wider street. From the street end, you can just see the glint of water and can assume that the docks lie beyond. From behind the gate, you can hear voices raised in conversation.
The smog-filled air and undead screams fade away abruptly to be replaced by bright sunlight and a profound stink of decaying fish. The portal drops you in a back alley, sputters and vanishes, leaving you briefly dazzled.
A swift inspection of your surroundings reveals a rubbish heap, a dead end, a rough wooden door and an exit into a wider street. From the street end, you can just see the glint of water and can assume that the docks lie beyond. From behind the gate, you can hear voices raised in conversation.
Seeing no immediate threat of the martial variety, Lyan sheathes Ruinblade. This is one for the talkers, for now.