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Eternal Grandmaster Barrian Everland

Chapter 0: Setting the Stage Chapter 1: Beginnings Chapter 2: The Gamble Chapter 3: The Never Winter Wood Chapter 4: Cragmaw Castle Chapter 5: A Land Both Desolate and Wonderous Chapter 6: The Dark Road Chapter 7: The Valley of Fallen Stars Chapter 8: The Endless Sea Chapter 9: The Jagged Road Chapter 10: A Palace in the Caverns Chapter 11: Whispers from the Past

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Chapter 6: The Dark Road

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And so they would venture onward with some clarity of purpose, but still countless unanswered questions. Their course would take them deeper underground to the Withered Road, a subterranean highway that they discovered was used mainly by the scattered dark elf colonies that survived in the bleak passages of the deeper Fey Dark.

The party would ambush a patrol of drow caravaners a few days into their journey, and would then be chased deeper into the tunnels by the caravan guards, lying in wait themselves. It was only then, in their desperation, that they came to a great stone threshold that was sealed with massive masonry blocks, complete with a peculiar altar positioned deliberately in front of it. The gate was of ancient construction, and despite lacking any knowledge of the construct, Carric knew it to be their ticket out of there. He was quick to examine the altar and discern its purpose. Of all things, the magical book from Iarno spoke to him then, demanding that it be placed on the altar, with the inner voice seeming to compel Carric to action.

Wanting to hide this from the others for reasons he could not fathom, he laid the book down quickly while they were distracted by the fight with the perusing drow, and whether by his own volition or not, spoke the archaic words of power that willed the ancient gate to open. To everyone's astonishment, the gate began to glow with arcane light and then began disassembling itself. The party quickly rushed through the opening, and just as they were able to get across the threshold, the stones of the once-sealed portal began to crash back down to the ground, blocking the way with a rain of boulders and bringing down the ceiling above. Thus, the collapsed portal effectively prevented any pursuit, as well as any escape.

It was only after the dust had settled that they realized something terrible. Nizèl had been with them until the moment before the gate opened, but in the panic that ensued following the sudden change, none had taken note of the dragonborn's whereabouts. He was now nowhere to be seen, and they didn't have a clue if he had been following close behind and had been crushed, or if he had been further back from the others and had been stranded.

Either option seemed to spell death for their companion, though, and that realization was clear on every one of the faces staring back in disbelief. Nizèl had been the heart of the group. Not necessarily the one leading them into danger, but always being there in a supporting role, eager to step in and help at a moment's notice. His sudden absence hit the group like a punch to the gut, as unexpected as it was painful. That curious dragonborn that had insisted on playing games every night was now gone.

His presence would be sorely missed, but though it was painful, they had to move on. They were still in a desperate situation, and if they stopped now to grieve, there was a very real chance they would lose all hope themselves. Battered and beaten, the party made their way into the dark.

It took several hours of walking for the party to realize that the tower that they were searching for was, in fact, the very chambers they were passing through, with its walls serving as floors in its now-horizontal orientation. How a tower as apparently magnificent as this one managed to find itself collapsed and buried deep in the Fey Dark was a mystery, but the wonders of its contents were indisputable.

Through the many chambers of the tower, chambers that were now tunnels, they found countless treasures ripe for the taking and many enemies eager to defend them. They also found an unexpected ally in the form of a scruffy kobold rogue named Edoo, who served as an unlikely guide to the party, now that Elxidor was effectively as lost as the rest of them. Edoo took them through the many twisting and often perilous tunnels of the long-ruined tower, and the group became fast friends with the curious little creature.

After several days of exploring the ruins, though, it appeared that there was one place that even the scrappy kobold was unwilling to go. A dark and foreboding place far at the end of the tower's length. A place where even the feral denizens that dwelled there seemed to avoid. Shadows flickered uneasily, casting thin and wavering lines in the light of one of their few remaining torches as they peered down the tunnel that led to that place.

When the rest of the party informed Edoo of the prophecy they had received and the "darkest place" it mentioned, Edoo resisted ferociously.

After much argument, however, and one effective ultimatum, the kobold agreed to take them there if they promised to remain with him through whatever took place afterward. The party, taken aback by the earnestness of the creature, agreed; and so they set off.

As the party started down the corridor in the direction of the cavern before them, they couldn't have known what awaited them. In the tunnels behind them, there were brilliant enchanted stones fixed to the ceilings and walls that shone with arcane light. They had been dimmed from their continuous luminescence over the ages, but still held enough energy to navigate by. The corridor they walked down now, however, was pitch black, with the light receding until all that was left was that which they carried on their person. Then, after several more minutes, it seemed as if even those lights began to fade. The torches were still in use, and their heat could certainly still be felt, but the light seemed lessened by the oppressive darkness until even the torches were snuffed out. They were immersed in it, true and utter darkness, and everyone stood unmoving for a long moment, unsure of what to do next.

Then it began, marked by the faint sound of lapping water far off in the distance. Something had acknowledged them and was beckoning for their approach. The entire space beyond was bathed in a deep, otherworldly blackness, and the only thing notable was this far-off noise of water against... something. The air around them seemed to swirl in rhythm with the far-off tide, and it compelled them forward."

One by one, they clumsily made their way, each seemingly farther away from their companions with each successive step. Until it seemed as though each of the others' splashing footfalls were but far-off echoes, and they each found themselves alone...

It is said that we can not truly know ourselves, not in the way that others can anyway. We are too close to gain a proper perspective of our own being, so to catch a glimpse of who we are, we must view ourselves from a distance. To do this, we must rely on the perspectives of others. We come to know ourselves based on how we relate to those around us, and in so doing, they come to know themselves as well.

This is typically the truth of things, all of us acting as mirrors for each other, but there is also another way to know oneself. A more introspective way, where we become engrossed in who we believe ourselves to be, and so construct an image, however distorted, based on our own biases and presuppositions. The second method can be effective in its way, forcing us to look critically and picture what others might see, but it can also be dangerous.

And so it is here in The Sunken Sea, a horrible and wretched place that also seemed to be both soothing and tranquil. In the waters of the sea, all emotions are amplified, as with the gentle lapping of the waves, so too would the presence of the place erode one's senses over time. It would make you one with the sea, drawing out your innermost memories and most vulnerable truths. That is the way of darkness.

Carric: The shadows cling to every corner of your vision, but for some reason, the darkness feels somewhat comfortable; it seems to obscure you as much as it obscures your surroundings. You feel Iarno's presence still, but his consciousness has gone quiet. Was he always there in the back of your mind? You can't remember. It is as though a weight has been lifted off your shoulders for the first time, like the presence that has been looming over you for days has receded for the moment. This is just as unsettling, though, as you soon start to wonder what it was that was looming over you in the first place.

Elxidor: Your surroundings are unfamiliar and dismal, and as you progress through the dark, a kind of existential dread creeps up on you. You have been uncomfortable ever since you left the vast open plains of the lands above, but it is not until now that you think to truly consider that fact. It isn't just the claustrophobia that is closing in on you. You carry a host of other burdens as well, those of your loved ones and family on the surface, and the ruin that you may very well have brought upon them. You trudge on, unwilling to show your discomfort, even if no one can see.

Edoo: You feel compelled forward almost against your will. While you have lived down here in the dark for your entire life, you have always avoided places like this. Even the dimmest of corridors pose no concern for you, as long as there is some light you can find your way, but this is different, this is true darkness, and you rushed headlong into it feeling the sudden pang of fear as the small group of travelers stepped in and you thought, for the first time since being swept up with them, of the pain of being left behind. Now you clamber forward, growing increasingly more panicked as the footsteps around you grow ever more dim.

Rori: Sweat drips down your brow as you trudge forward, leading the pack. You are sure that this is what the oracle meant by "the darkest place," but what does it mean? What are you supposed to find here, and how is it supposed to help you find your daughter? You feel anxious and uneasy; the weight that has been looming over you since you found yourself whisked away into this unfamiliar world is building to the point of hysteria. What is this place!? What are you doing here!?

Morrah: "The Darkness closes in, and you feel frustration at first. This is just another delay on your journey to... to whatever this might all be for. You let out a long sigh as you consider the insanity of it all. Ever since you had been whisked away to this inexplicable place, it has been one hardship after another. That was until that Oracle figure made its appearance anyway. And what was all that about Rori being bestowed that sacred weapon? Were they really so deserving of that praise, whoever it was that was giving it? But it wasn't like you were jealous or anything, what would you have to be jealous of? You were the great and esteemed Morrah Moonshadow after all, heir to one of the last great houses of the northlands.

All that remained of one of the last great houses, anyway. To be honest, you hadn't felt the same since the party was separated from Nizèl a tenday ago, but hadn't been able to understand why until now. You lost one of your closest friends during that tragedy. The dragonborn that you so detested when you first met. Since that unlikely introduction, he had grown into a good friend. You could hardly believe it, there were so few in your life that you could honestly call a friend, but he was among them. And now he was gone, and you were unsure of what horrible fate he had met.

What was the point of it all anyway? When everyone you ever cared about was gone. Why should you keep going? Why not just lie down here and let things be? The water was warm and comfortable enough, and the sound of the waves on that distant shore sounded soothing.

As the hour passed, the others continued stumbling towards the unknown noise. Morrah Moonshadow lay down in the shallow water and closed her eyes.

In a darkened chamber far beneath the world, a small stream lapped up to the edge of a rocky incline. The chamber was dark but not without light, as there was a faint glow cast from further down a winding passage at one end. The other end, however, was host to an impenetrable shroud of darkness, and far beyond its veil, the faint sound of splashing footsteps could be heard.

The noises grew closer and closer to the boundary between the chamber and the veil until a figure suddenly burst forth from the blackness as if breaching the surface of a great ocean. The figure's horned, furry head heaved up and down for several moments in clear exasperation, until they were finally able to write themselves and turn to regard the shroud of darkness.

Slowly but surely, the sound of other splashing footsteps approached until two more forms stumbled across the threshold, the forms of Carric and Elxidor, who, apparently, had been able to rejoin one another after the party's initial separation.

There was a long pause after their arrival before the frantic form of Edoo joined them, with desperate gasps and mumbled words issuing from his shaken form. Then there was silence for many long minutes, and it was apparent that Morrah would not be joining them. There was no trace of the faint splashes that had accompanied the arrival of the others, and in the expansive waters beyond, none could recall having encountered the half-elf. After many more moments of hesitation, Rory stepped forward and beckoned that the others follow, offering an outstretched hand to the next closest of her companions. Carric cautiously took the offered hand, and Elxidor continued the chain a few moments later, a resolute expression shared amongst the three in the wake of the still recent loss of Nizèl. A hand was then offered to Edoo, but the skittish kobold recoiled reflexively, clearly not willing to relive the experience.

It was then that Rory regarded him and knelt down on one knee, gesturing around the chamber as they did so. They said, "Out here alone, or in there together," and with a set expression, they gave their scaly companion a somber yet warm smile.

Edoo still hesitated, but after many more moments of consideration, and liking the prospect of solitude even less than the hideous darkness, finally conceded and took the firbolg's outstretched hand. They then all straightened, lining up abreast to regard the dark veil once more. With one unanimous step, they walked back across the threshold.

For many moments thereafter, there was quiet, with only the distant splashing of footsteps echoing in unison far off in the void, until even that was drowned out by the quiet lapping of water on stone. The chamber was calm once more, and for a long while, this secluded place far beneath the world, one that had not seen the presence of others for over millennia, seemed as though it might remain quiet for a millennium more.

The shadows hung ominously about the room like drapes shredded to tatters by some unseen monster with great sweeping claws. Though it was likely just a trick of the light, perhaps a result of the many outstretched stalactites descending from the ceiling. It was likely that, but for some reason, the shadows still seemed a bit off, and a passive observer might suggest more readily that an unforeseen denizen had, in fact, created those tears in the shadows, leaving ribbons of darkness behind where there should be light.

Looking on impassively at the scene in the cavern, the shadows were uncertain of their allegiance. Were they to be beholden to light, which gave them clear definition and contrast? For without light, there can be no shadow. Or is it the dark that begets them, presuming that shadow is, in actuality, an entity in itself that issues ever forth from dark places? Some pervasive substance that fills in the gaps that light leaves behind.

Never had this conflict seemed more prescient than in this place, in the darkest reaches of a land so mysterious. Where did shadows come from after all? Could it be that they issued forth from such a place as this? A darkened chamber far beneath the world.

Suddenly, there was a distant echo of steel on stone, and far-off voices could be heard echoing across the expanse. A great conflict appeared to be playing out, and the shadows on the walls wavered uncertainly. There were shouts, screams, the sharp ring of weapons, and then nothing. Once again, the quiet lapping of water resumed its steady rhythm, and the shadows on the wall seemed somehow lessened, humbled perhaps. After several long minutes, four figures emerged from the dark, with a fifth hanging limply between them. They had found their friend, and they had rescued her from... something.

It took several more minutes to coax Morrah back to consciousness, and it would take many days before she would recover completely, but she was alive. She smiled nervously at all of them in turn, clearly shaken by the experience. Maybe these people meant more to her than she was willing to admit, and maybe there was a point to it all after all, this existence of hers, though what that might be she still could not tell.

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Spires of Faerie: Book 1: The Frozen Tower

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