Sidebar--The Rest of the Story
Written by Fish13, GM of Homestead context
The Companions journeyed hard, a full two weeks still before them. The clerics found Fyrinn to be partially healed; he did not seem to fall back into his madness as often, yet restraints were still necessary. Ever closer they came, riding hard as a fit of urgency hit them.
Two weeks later, the eight rode over the last hill, the smell of the salty sea air in their nostrils. Beneath them lay St. Andrews, a port city. A wide river cut the city in half, emptying out into a harbor protected by a large island. Upon that island lay the abbey. Sandstone walls soared thirty feet above the ground, and the red bricks of the main building rose another twenty feet above that. At its Southeast end a bell tower could be seen, its music silent.
They rode down the hill into the valley of the city, through the northern half, and crossed the bridge to the South. Turning east, they cantered up to the Abbey Island defence: a long, two hundred yards, bridge lay across the bay, the only access to the Abbey. The Companions rode it in silence.
As they reached the heavy, ironwood doors, a man stepped forth from a side door. His eyes were red and shadowed, from grief and lack of sleep.
"What business do you have at the Abbey?"
"We come upon the call of Colonel Grayhem," Tiger replied.
"Yes, of course. Why else would you be here. This way." The man spoke with a bitter tone, as if he was scolding himself.
He unlocked the main door, and pushed through. The abbey grounds were large: easily a hundred yards wide, and twice that long. In the centre lay the rectangular monastery, five floors of formidable power.
Acolytes came forth and took the horses to a stable, and the gatekeeper led the Companions into the abbey itself. Passing through to the third floor and down a lit hallway, he at last arrived at a guarded door.
"These people are here to see the Colonel."
The guards moved, and the man opened the door.
Inside, a small room was barely furnished. Roughly fifteen by ten, a desk and bed were the main furniture, with a small chest in the corner. Oddly, it was crowded with monks, all silent.
They moved aside as the Companions entered, and they got a glimpse of the bed.
Colonel Grayhem was dead...
Even as they stared, they noticed a figure at the bedside weeping. An old man held the Colonel's hand, and the two looked so alike it was obvious they were father and daughter. It was Abbot Grayhem. Suddenly, he jolted as if struck by a bolt of lightning. A smile came over his blank face as he stared into space, seeing something from another time or place. He stood and folded his arms around him as the air began to shimmer. A semi-solid portal opened, and into it, the Companions saw the innermost chamber of Ring Rock Hold. The Abbot disappeared.
A shock went through the monks, and they began muttering amongst themselves. They then realized that the Abbot was not the only priest missing, but a few others, all very powerful, had disappeared.
After about ten minutes of stunned talking, with much shouting and running thrown in between (the Companions were momentarily forgotten) a sudden hush came over the priests.
"Tollossus! Tollossus has come to Haven, and he is engaging the Nameless One!" a cleric cried out, just as the whole room began to shimmer, and soon the Companions and clerics found themselves at the side of Tollossus, Great God of Good, battling the Nameless One, and his minions...
Written by croiduire, GM of Dwarven Elite context
As the party entered the library, the wind's howling changed in pitch, becoming deeper and more ominous, and the booming waves crashed deafeningly against the rocks. At first the faint shaking seemed to be the violent wind buffeting the temple...but the tremors increased. Books began to tumble from the shelves and chairs and tables slid across the room.
"Quickly...to the Archive room!" Max shouted urgently. "Mik, Killeon, try to brace the walls with spells!"
"Max, there's no time! This is the--NOOO!" Riva flung herself into Max's arms...and within seconds they had both vanished, seemingly pulled through the very fabric of space and time.
"Get out of here! I'll hold the walls!" Sir Poll ordered, but he was given no time to carry out his promise before he too was drawn into the vortex. Soon only Luther and Killeon were left behind, along with one hound, howling mournfully after his vanished master, and one frantic little fox.
Luther started to speak but was interrupted as a sparkling effect engulfed both off world clerics. A faint chiming could barely be heard above the growing storm, and then they too were gone. Only Chisna and Gregor remained in the doomed temple when the waves flowed in and erased from existence the greatest citadel of knowledge that had ever existed on Haven...