From: Sir Fulhoff of Clan Balderk, Knight of Hawk’s Nest, War Mage
To: Helja and Adrik of Clan Balderk
Mother and Father:
The maelstrom is an amazing place, and we’ve spent our time here taking advantage of that fact. I’ve poured over the Archmage Dangledork’s spellbook. For someone of his skills, the contents are rather pedestrian. It’s no shock that he was so poorly able to handle our assault. Nevertheless, I’ll be able to make use of it.
Joda took advantage of the walls of water surrounding the palace to work out in the morning. He literally ran around the palace on the walls of water. It was such a feat that the giants of the palace took the time to watch, gathering in the spots with the best views and snacked on popcorn lobster.
Taking advantage of this, Hilda visited King Hekaton. Only because of her help in freeing him did he allow her to approach and talk with him. She spoke slowly, carefully, knowing that she was treading on dangerous ground. She spoke of his daughters, and of her own experience as one of many siblings, and the loneliness that can happen even when surrounded by those they love. She advised the king to ensure that his daughters know that they’re all loved equally. The king was touched by her words, and promised that he would keep them in his mind going forward.
But first, there is the dragon to deal with. We gathered together in the meditation chamber. The king told us his allies would be arriving at the desert lair of Iymrith from a variety of locations, and by a variety of means. We would be teleporting in directly. He activated the chamber, and we were suddenly being baked by the heat of the dry sun, rather than cooled by the watery light.
The amphitheater was ruined, and covered in statues. Statues that it turned out were all animated. “I can’t believe we have to fight her lawn ornaments” Hilda lamented, drawing her sword, and quaffing the potion of giant size. The rest of the party followed, except for Aramil, and grew between 14-18 feet tall.
Joda ran up the side wall of the seating area. Thorin tried to follow, using Bran’s back as a stepping stone. That was about the point we noticed the trebuchet. The stones started flying toward the king, and he launched a lightning strike at the first one, wiping out the stone crew. Almost everyone piled into the fight. Aramil and I circled around to help flank. Bran tossed ice storms while I kept my spells in reserve, working my hammer more than my magic.
Around the time we’d cut though the first half of the gargoyles, 2 larger stone figures arrived, followed by a distinctive sound… the roar of a dragon, and the flapping of her wings. Iymrith. Her terrifying presence was felt across the amphitheater. I took faith in the Great Digger, knowing she’d sent me on this quest, and it was time to see it to the end.
King Hecaton, at the front of the fight took the first hit from her, as she flew past, tail lashing out. Her wings kicked up a great blast of sand, blinding most of those in the path. I used, and used up, the wand of magic missiles, dumping each and every charge into her wings. The wand crumbled in my hands as the magic was spent. Iymrith flew off, leaving her golems to finish us off. Beyond the amphitheater a spray of sand showed where she’d burrowed into the ground.
Leaping down from the amphitheater seats, I swung my hammer repeatedly into the back of the golem slamming into the king, drawing off its attention. Thorin, further up, was dealing with the gargoyles operating the trebuchet. Hack, slash, shove, hack, slash, shove…
We dropped the golems, and took a moment to wipe the sweat from our brows. Mere moments had passed since we’d arrived, but our blood stained the sands. Below us, Iymrith’s lair awaited… and we could hear her rumbling below…