Torleth's Gold
IInnttrroodduuccttiioonn AAddvveennttuurree BBaacckkggrroouunndd This adventure involves breaking into a magically sealed vault to retrieve an unspecified treasure inside. The adventurers come across a strange circular dwelling with a heavily reinforced exterior. However, the front entrance is unlocked and the players can enter to find the empty home of a reclusive magician. The interior of the house holds a sealed vault that promises great treasures to the party. Can they open it? A set of 28 journal pages detail the steps to open the vault, but they are scattered around the house and out of order. By carefully placing them in the correct order and deciphering their clues, the party can determine the correct procedure to enter the vault and acquire its treasures. This module contains a fiendishly difficult literary puzzle where logic and careful reading are the keys to success. It can be played as a solo adventure, as a "game night" one-shot where the players solve it together with the GM, or as part of a larger campaign. This module can be done with players of any level. It must be run in the Forgotten Realms setting or with a group willing to accept that all the lore is from that setting. Note that the solution is not included in this module, and players must solve the puzzle themselves. Adventure Hooks This adventure involves rooting through an abandoned mage's abode to enter their vault. This adventure could be used any time the players need to gain an artifact or Macguffin that a reclusive mage may possess. If a rival group is also interested, this can also be worked in, as the owner of the journal could be a member of this rival group. Ideally, since the journal references Forgotten Realms, it should be used within this setting. SSoolloo AAddvveennttuurriinngg The following adventure does NOT include the solution. This is for two reasons (besides the author's malevolent spite). The first is to follow the example of the inspiration source material, Cain's Jawbone, which has not released an official solution as of 2023. This will encourage you to solve it for yourself. (You can do it with just the clues in this adventure. I believe in you!) In addition, this style will enable the module to be attempted during solo play. Alternatively, the dungeon master can participate in solving the puzzle along with the players, if desired. In this mode of operation, the solo player will have knowledge of the layout of the mage's dwelling and of the objects within, but will not know the steps to open the vault. The solo player will need to be relatively sure (likely with some evidence from the journal) that their ideas for how to complete the various tasks are correct. Of course, some subjective discretion will be required, since the player can't be absolutely certain without reading the solution, but the solo player should not proceed with merely a "wild guess". The solution should make sense given the clues available. Likewise, if playing with a DM but without the solution, the DM will need to make a judgment as to the correctness of the player's solution. The players should have enough evidence to reasonably convince the dungeon master that their solution is correct. If so, the dungeon master should allow the players to proceed. Even if the players turned out to have the wrong solution, it was enough to convince the DM and should be considered a viable alternative. In any case, the goal is to have fun and solve a difficult problem together as a group. Of course, should certainty be desired, the solution is available for purchase on DMs Guild. Cain's Jawbone The literary puzzle "Cain's Jawbone" was published in 1934 as part of a larger puzzle book created by Torquemada, an alias for Edward Powys Mathers, who was the creator and pioneer of cryptic crosswords. The book, a murder mystery, is 100 pages given out-of-order. When placed in order, the solver is able to determine the identity of six victims and perpetrators. Up until 2021, when the book became a viral TikTok sensation, only three people had correctly solved the puzzle. UUssiinngg eexxtteerrnnaall ssoouurrcceess Solving this puzzle without consulting external sources could be quite challenging. Players should generally be allowed to consult external source books or even use an internet search engine for information. For gameplay purposes, consider requiring the players to roll a relevant skill check (with DC 15 and modifying as appropriate) as their characters in order to access these resources. Characters can gain advantage on these rolls if their characters possess a book on the topic or other helpful materials. Content Warning The following adventure contains an allusion to a ritualistic sacrifice of a bound victim.
TThhee MMaaggee AAbbooddee Dungeon features: The abode is a circular shape, and each room generally occupies a sector of the circle, with one curved outer wall and two walls that form radii of the circle. The inner wall for each room borders the octagonal center which is the mage's vault. The walls are made of reinforced stone. The inner vault walls are resistant to magical tampering attempts. Ceilings are eight feet high. Doors lead between adjacent sections of the outer areas. 11.. EEnnttrryywwaayy The doorway of the abode leads into a spacious parlor. A circular wrought-iron candelabra hangs from the ceiling over a baroque carpet styled with an arcane symbol. Framed paintings depicting epic landscapes hang on the walls, which slant inward from the curved outer wall towards the narrow center wall. Doors lead clockwise and counter-clockwise. An open parlor with an ornately decorated carpet covered in arcane symbols greets entrants to the abode. Paintings: On the walls are paintings of famous points in history: A shining sun over the high hall of Elturel. A depiction of the gods falling to Toril. A floating citadel of dark stone emerging from a portal. Dark elves mounting an attack in the Underdark. People fleeing a blue blaze emerging from a jungle. A city suspended by chains above a burning landscape. A half-drow woman raising a staff atop a Waterdeep tower. A collage of battle scenes under a strange looking moon, while a sage in the sky writes on a tablet. Carpet: An Intelligence (Arcana) check of DC 15 allows players to recognize the symbol of the school of enchantment on the carpet. 22.. KKiittcchheenn A pungent aroma of arcane spices fills the air. Faded copper pots hang over a deep wash basin. A stove and an area for preparing food take up most of the outer wall. Rows of jars with spice and ingredients line the sides of the room. A small table and some discarded pans lie on top of an intricately designed rug. This area once served as the mage's kitchen and dining area. The discarded pans and other misplaced items suggest that someone has rifled through the contents of this room. Table: On the table are four pages of the journal. Jars: The jars contain a variety of common cooking ingredients such as flour, salt, sugar, vinegar, and cooking oil. There are also a wide array of spices, such as anise, dill, fennel, parsley, rosemary, sage, tarragon, and thyme. Rug: An Intelligence (Arcana) check of DC 15 is enough to recognize that the "A" shaped symbol that adorns the rug stands for the school of conjuration. 33.. AArrmmoorryy Suits of armor stand guard in the four corners of this shortened room. A fifth armor has been knocked over and is scattered in pieces all over the floor. A rug decorated with a stylized eye symbol covers the center of this area. An eclectic collection of antique weapons are mounted on the walls. A third door leads towards the outer wall. This room is decorated with a wide variety of weapons and armor. Most of them are decorative or ornamental and otherwise useless in combat. Weapons: Bronze Trident -1 rusted flail A single silver-tipped arrow A set of 4 +1 darts An ivory dagger worth 25 gp Armor: -2 Ornamental plate armor (+1 to Charisma checks) -1 Rusted ringmail -1 Chain mail -1 Scale mail One set of half plate that has fallen over and in pieces. Anyone attempting to piece together the fallen armor realizes that a gauntlet is missing from the armor pieces. A Detect Magic or other spell can identify the remaining gauntlet as a Living Glove. Rug: A DC 15 Intelligence (Arcane) check reveals the eye symbolizes the school of illusion.
44.. SSttoorraaggee This narrow room occupies the curved space between the armory and the outer wall. An assortment of tall wooden barrels fills the room. Barrels: The barrel tops and bottoms can be screwed open to reveal that they contain water, wine, and various dried foods. Several are completely empty. A detect magic, identify, or similar spell will reveal that the barrels have an enchantment, presumably for the preservation of their contents. Papers: Four pages of the journal have been left on top of one of the barrels. 55.. FFoorrggee A large kiln and a coal-fired forge take up most of this austere room. A rack of black iron tools stands next to a storage box full of fuel. A large vessel for water is nearby. Several shelves containing crucibles and other implements jut out from the narrow inner wall. A symbol resembling the letter 'pi' is painted on the floor. Symbol: A DC 15 Intelligence (Arcane) check is required to recognize the symbol for the school of transmutation. Tools: One of the crucibles is being used as a paperweight to hold down four pages of the journal. The tools can be gathered as +1 Smith's Tools. 66.. BBaallllrroooomm A magical lantern on the ceiling floods this narrow but spacious room with light. Gleaming parquet tiles arranged in the shape of a stylized trident symbol decorate the ballroom floor. Polished wood lining the bare walls brightens the space with reflected light. At the far end of the hall, a large circular ceramic design portrays a pattern of crescent moons and stars swirling into a bright stellar nebula. Buckets: A Wisdom (Perception) roll of DC 12 reveals a set of blood stained buckets discarded in a corner. Parquet: The trident symbol made with the flooring tiles actually represents the school of abjuration and can be recognized with an Intelligence (Arcana) roll of DC 15. Circular design: The ceramic artwork, raised several inches outward from the wall, is painted with different phases of the moon, representing a swirling passage of time as the stars and moons swirl inwards. The artwork conceals the vault door, though there is no visible lock or way to open it. However, when the proper arcane procedure is performed, a metal vault door is revealed with a handle and multi-colored combination wheel lock. The wheel has 12 colors: white, black, brown, purple, blue, green, yellow, orange, red, pink, gold, and silver. The wheel must be turned to the correct color combination to open the vault. After three unsuccessful attempts, the wheel locks in place for fifteen minutes. Paper: Next to the vault door, a piece of blood-stained paper with a single sentence is on the floor: Countermeasures: If the players attempt to use dispel magic, pry open the door, or otherwise tamper with the vault entrance or its walls, magic missiles fly out from the ceiling light and the vault door, dealing a Dangerous amount of damage. 77.. SSuurrggeerryy A pungent, metallic tang permeates this grim place. A rectangular wooden table with thick leather straps occupies the center of the stark, stone-walled room, partially covering a U-shaped rune burned into the floor. Surgical instruments gleam ominously on a nearby counter. Bloodstains mar the table and stone floor. A shelf of strange jars extends along one wall. Floor: A U-shaped rune etched into the floor can be determined, with a DC 15 Intelligence (Arcane) check, to be the symbol of the school of necromancy. Surgeon tools: Among the tools is a Healer's kit. The other surgeon tools can be used to give advantage to Medicine checks that involve invasive surgery, dissection, or autopsies. Table: The table is blood stained, especially near the middle of the table. A DC 15 Wisdom (Medicine) can identify it as human blood. Given the volume of blood, it's unlikely the human survived. On one corner of the table, held down by a scalpel, are four pages of the journal. IT WASNT THE GEM HE MEANT_
Jars: A row of sealed jars full of reddish liquid. They are labeled in exquisite elvish script: 88.. LLiibbrraarryy Dark mahogany wood adorns this small, cozy room. Shelves hold all types of books, some rare or unusual. A lush carpet with a y-shaped rune covers the middle of the floor. Carpet: A DC 15 Intelligence (Arcana) check reveals the yshaped rune as the symbol of Divination. Books: An extensive collection of eclictic books fills the library. Among them can be spotted the following titles. Each book can be sold for 2d20 gp to an interested bookseller. The books can also be used to make relevant skill checks with advantage while within the mage's abode. The titles of the books are as follows: Advanced Dungeon Mapping Annals of First Vizera Zahyra The Approachable East Basics of Bloodletting Bestiary of Creatures Strange and Wonderful Birds of the Sword Coast Book of Black Tidings Brief History of the Multiverse Bronze Methodology Darkness over Daggerford Discourses on Art and Gems Dungeon Ecology The Economics of Enchantment The Elvish Patient Experimental Techniques and Methods Flora of the Dalelands Geomantic Measure Theory Great Pottery of Luiren Machinations of a Red Wizard Mushrooms of the Underdark Myth Drannan Amphigory Primer on Mythical Beasts Ramblings of Nenemith Towson's Guide to Ropes Treatise on Monsters Known and Unknown Once the proper magical word is spoken with the correct book opened, the pages part to reveal an intricately carved tuning fork that has a magical aura of Transmutation. Pages: Anyone perusing the titles of the books notices four pages of the journal tucked into the bookshelf after the last book. 99.. BBeeddrroooomm This room, barely wider than the bed that dominates it, is squeezed between the library and the outer wall. It holds the bare essentials: a bed draped in clean, trim sheets, a towering wardrobe that stretches to the ceiling, and a side-table with several drawers. Every inch whispers of practicality, a scholar's haven forged for focus rather than comfort. Wardrobe: The wardrobe is filled with a variety of mage's robes, all colored black. Side table: Under a calendar that displays the three tenday weeks of Nightal are four pages of the journal. Drawers: The drawers contains several gemstone trinkets, each worth 2gp: agate, amethyst, carbuncle, chrysoberyl, fluorite, onyx, jade, quartz, topaz, and turquoise. 1100.. AAllcchheemmiiccaall LLaabboorraattoorryy A wave of unusual acrid smells assault you as you enter this room. A variety of alembic stills, burettes, beakers, and mixing vats fills one end of the room. A hissing sound emanates from one of the large cauldrons. A workbench with a large variety of supplies takes up the other end of the room. Between, the wood flooring is painted with the symbol of a spiked circle. Alchemist's tools: These tools, a set of +1 alchemist supplies, include a small scale, various vials, beakers, and tools for stirring, mixing, and heating. Worn brushes can also be used as a -1 painter's supplies. Floor: Characters recognize the symbol for evocation with a successful DC 15 Intelligence (Arcana) roll. Beakers: Two of the beakers have been used recently. One has a reddish residue and the other seems to have a faintly iridescent glow. Under the beakers are four pages of the journal. Cauldron: A sturdy cauldron good for mixing volatile magical potions is filled with a bubbling acid. The cauldron is anchored to the ground and connected to a drain pipe. There is a stopper at the bottom of the cauldron that can be twisted to drain the cauldron. However, anyone that reaches in without requisite protection will take a Dangerous amount of acid damage.
UUnnddeerrggrroouunndd PPooooll The trapdoor (an inlaid metal hatch in the shape of a circle) is hidden within the mage abode above and is secured with magical and mechanical ingenuity. It cannot be opened with a key or with thieves' tools. Knock and other similar spells have no effect. Only a particular obscure ritual opens the trapdoor. Rough hewn stone steps lead downwards into the darkness. Drips of falling water break the eerie silence, though, after a moment, you think you can hear a wispy, wavering voice calling your name, echoing from deep below somewhere. Two flights of stone stairs lead down into a natural underground cavern. Stalactites and stalagmites surround a ten-foot natural pool at the base of the stairs. Dark, shimmering waters seem to pull characters towards it. Any magic user immediately senses its power and allure. Pool of darkness: This dangerous but powerful source of raw magic and arcane power is a lesser form of a Pool of Radiance. While much less virulent than others that have reshaped history, it still possesses both power and danger to all those who encounter it. The pool appears to be warm and inviting with calm, iridescent dark waters. Temptation: Characters descending both sets of stairs hear whispers that beckon them to enter the pool. Characters must make a DC 15 (adjust +2 for each adventuring tier beyond first) Wisdom saving throw to avoid entering the pool. Anyone entering the pool feels claws scratching inside their head, hear a screaming cacophony, and receive one of the following afflictions: d6 Affliction 1 Black scales grow all over the character. (-4 Charisma, +2 natural AC) 2 All memorized spells are immediately cast. 3 Character immediately ages 2d10 years. 4 All spell slots are immediately drained. 5 The character loses 2d8 maximum hit points but gains +1 Intelligence ability point. 6 Character loses saving throw proficiency in either Constitution or Str but gains Wis or Int. Characters must perform a DC 15 Strength saving throw (to pull themselves out) or DC 15 Wisdom saving throw (to resist the lure of the pool) to escape. TThhee VVaauulltt Once the door is opened, an austere vault filled with the mage's secret belongings is revealed. If part of a larger campaign, the contents should be adjusted to fit the setting. Perhaps a major plot point or artifact that the players highly desire could reside within the vault. Optionally, to add an additional layer of difficulty, most of the treasure could be illusory, forcing the players to find the object of true value. Otherwise, the following description provides a default for a one-shot or solo expedition. Beyond the heavy door, an octagonal room hums with magical energy and secrets. Shelves of oddities and peculiar containers alternate with chests overflowing with coins and treasure. Within a large pool of dried blood, the decomposed body of an arcane trickster lies a few feet within the door. Body: The body of what seems to be a rogue with arcane abilities lies a few feet within the door. The rogue's body seems ripped to shreds. A Wisdom (Medicine) skill check of DC 15 or higher suggests that the rogue was ripped apart by magical energies and then bled out on the floor. The rogue is carrying a Dagger of Venom and is wearing a beryl gem worth 100gp. Development: When a character enters the vault, magic missiles stream from the walls, causing a Deadly amount of damage. Characters are only protected by the item(s) that the wizard prescribed. Treasure: The treasure found here should be significant as a reward for solving the intricate and in-depth puzzle. The Dungeon Master's Guide (page 137) provides suggestions for a level appropriate hoard of treasure. AAcckknnoowwlleeddggeemmeennttss DUNGEONS & DRAGONS, D&D, Wizards of the Coast, Forgotten Realms, Ravenloft, Eberron, the dragon ampersand, Ravnica and all other Wizards of the Coast product names, and their respective logos are trademarks of Wizards of the Coast in the USA and other countries. This work contains material that is copyright Wizards of the Coast and/or other authors. Such material is used with permission under the Community Content Agreement for Dungeon Masters Guild. Espruar font created by Neale Davidson and used with Pixel Sagas Freeware Fonts license. Cover image created with Midjourney. All other original material in this work is copyright 2023 by Douglas Strain and published under the Community Content Agreement for Dungeon Masters Guild.
JJoouurrnnaall PPaaggeess The gods are stirring, mark my words. Nor was I content to bide my time, as Tharra's words leapt to my mind. It was not time for Elliandreth's one, and a good thing too. I was no match for either falling stars or fallen gods, and considering the task before me. Mystra would certainly not aid me. In any case, I did not miss my twin. Instead, I took one last trip downwards, returning my erstwhile companion into his arcane origin. No more would his bones or his soul wander the land. On the day of grains, I set forth looking for an ingredient as fresh as olive oil. For this, an excursion, a small adventure from my inherited abode. I did not even need to make it to the next town before I found what I required. Skipping down the lane with a wagon full of bovine delight. Would she deliver? I thought she might. A clutch of thalver and a date was set. Two bottles at Godswake, and, oh and so much more. My day's task accomplished, and all before Elsun. I returned to prepare most courteously for her visit. My thoughts wandered to the iron city, a bastion in that sad and lonely place. I touched malevolent Crenshinibon and turned the door, similar to that of the unique tomes, or perhaps a nature loving enclave. I twisted past the Jangling hiter and its golden temptation. My next temptation would be of a different sort, that of the plumed giant that held the dead gnoll's eye socket. The Thayan maw would soon open for me, and I would have all the glorious stuff that I ever wanted, forever. A great unhappiness and despair when at least she woke. Her fury sheds but frozen tears as gray clouds issue forth. Though I might have had wishes for the favored of erinyes or Baelum's one, simple leather would do for this task. My momentary master had quite the collection, and I pondered my selection. I considered the famous words of Malus Thorm and figured he knew best. My companion, of course, was unenthused by my delay in choosing the proper tool, though would later, paradoxically, ask me, quite forcefully, to stop.
Long I wandered before reaching the goal of my obsession. Round was the dwelling, as I would soon learn, like the inhabitant's incomprehensible raison d'être. Unlike the dark-clothed one beneath the sleepy hole, this one had a wariness about him and would not admit me. Perhaps not unwisely, considering my objective. Still, I had time and will. Where there's a will, there's a way. A mother scything wheat, forgotten husband sleeping near. With one swing she took his feet, with another, took his ear. Does the shadow have a name? See Sacred flames consumed my mind as I journeyed towards the color of the only glass that would not burn in Abryimoch. O Guenhwyvar! O Agnes! O broken is the golden bowl! The spirit flown forever! Let the bell toll! Neither those saintly souls nor the hand of Alustriel would halt the flow of this river Styx, as it wound its way towards the marches of sundabar. Those trapped in that frozen waste would rue eternal, but my own end was two steps closer, and over half finished. The next morning was the day of mysteries, and I prayed that all of mine would be dispersed. I laid him out on the surgery table, a most appropriate place for what I would soon attempt. I lit the incense. Soon, smoke was not the only presence in the room. He was reluctant at first, but there are ways of revealing the truth, and I used them all. In the end, I discovered the jewel that I needed from the shade, so to speak, and I had all the answers I required. Such preparation of defense and all worthless, as it would only delay my aspirations. Sundered, consciousness scattered in minuscule fragments. Breathe, dragons: you are inheritors, ruling the wreck. In the moments before I channeled Ghelryn, I relished the shadows and recalled my time in the dark when the Huns were at the gates of those do gooders. Do gooders? Or do orders? In any case, that rogue dandy in his plum headdress did not follow orders, giving them one last gasp. I myself gave a final gasp before succumbing to my inner arsonist. Soon the room was ablaze in heat that washed over me head to toe.
One ingredient remained, hid securely within Celemir's one. I recalled my time skulking in the slums of that city of a thousand temples. Hiding from the ebon lashes of those balding zulkirs. Even for me, familiar with the final grip of death, those immortal lords filled me with dread. I spoke the word of the day and the binder opened the binder, you might say. Inside was not a farting yiddle, but a different instrument. Aye, it would sing for me. Sing of Bahamut and Tiamat, watching its sundering, mourning their labor. Sing too of Sardior. The whole table turned. Why use this over complicated lazy Susan of a contraption I wonder. Perhaps the mad wizard enjoyed a slice of pi. Quite an ingenious contraption even if needlessly obscure. The nugget popped out and a way into the blackness was revealed. When Kyriana made the first proclamation and became the Third, she climbed to the top of the tower. My way would be the opposite of course, and a set of stairs led the way. Such a relentless life. As I took my first step, I thought this might be a good place for a fallen friend. " Ice-kissed flowers caught midbloom, beauty kept in all its grace." I whispered to my guest. She did not appreciate that, soon, she would take on the role of Summer in this play. The tool I had selected, my wasteland shears as it were, made quite the impression. They created a beautiful work of art before my eyes. I rejoiced, though she could no longer. I could not help but think of the great rift, and the river that poured out between the two deadly and equally matched foes. Such a mighty river, and it provided all that I needed and more. See how it covers all. I prayed to the Queen of the Erinyes in her old Molochian hall. A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled cold mold clinging to the dungeon floor. I warmed my mind by thinking of the sand dragons under the Raurin desert. Was I on the right path, or lost in the mazes of Malagard? I hope my documents were in order. Certainly in more order than those preposterous creatures of six arms and three legs and their gnomish creators. Much more poisonous and less cold than the first half. I would retire with riches to the shores of Talmurak after this ordeal.
Never winter, they say, but I disagreed. Solstice. A perfect time for a perfect alignment. I considered that splendid Jewel of the North as I hung my own around my neck. I was not Petra with her dragons, nor the angel of Michael, as the fingers of God might say. Yet, I did my best and covered all with the sanguine. I must say, I would choose the color red to those that would prefer to decorate in black. To be a rock and not to roll, one might say, but the bauble I wore was neither stone nor lead. Another cold shiver as I reached my penultimate destination. Not all hells are places of fire. The keystone above the misty arch would remain lighted: an ace in the hole. Shun the green if you can. Surely I didn't mean the Sea Ward alley. Would I now enter my own Malsheem, or would the dragons of Cormyr pursue me to my doom? I knew the old ghost had not lied, and the gateway opened up like the final bite of a giant worm. A few steps and then a glass from West Tethyr to celebrate. I held high the fourth element. The old man had assured its protection. Heliodor, protect me. The instructions were intricate and I got to work. I recalled the dark slimy cave where the sahuagin told me that a living hand would pass through the illusory veil of death. True words, but I was not an ogre and had no need of its power nor of snaring missiles. I hoped that my first, or at least my second would succeed. Fortunately, I achieved my end before the duel's beginning failed me and drained what mess had been in the vat to begin with. Somewhere, bells of justice tolled, but not for me. One might say that I was not tired at all that day. Specie the color of shimmering Sylgar, I counted a number same as the eyes of its jealous protector. No doubt I was setting myself up for troubles down the line. Not like the time when gods walked the land after trying to abscond with the tablets of fate, my theft would be more procedural and less of the cataclysmic nature. Would I rise above it, like many of the overlords who perished then? Unlike Bhaal, I could not foresee it. Yet, I had no Cyric here, merely the remaining hurdles of a departed charlatan. I looked at my notes before the next step.
My first day on the job, Silverhand's in fact, and already I was casting spells. Was I a prodigy, or was the moon maiden looking over me today? Silence is golden, and my thoughts were of riches beyond number. The illusion was perfect, and no one spoke for sixty hands. A few quick steps followed by the forceful flick of a virulent poniard, and the deed was done. The old man had told me nothing yet. That would come later, once my next ritual had been completed. Tonight I would slumber in another's bed and refresh myself for the next rite. Despite her namesake, the pretty girl was perfectly on schedule. Such innocence, not wasted, but well used. A few pleading words and a charming smile, and the girl entered. Curiosity kills both cats and milkmaids, I supposed. It was not honorable combat, by any means, but it would soon be strife. It was the day for it anyway. The Red Knight would surely not approve of my methods. Yet, like his foes, blood would be spilled. We bow to She who wears the crown; Let the world shiver with dread. A crucible within my tongs, I stealthily slunk around the bend, like the assassin steals upon the white queen. She can't see him gliding through the shadows. The sword screams. The white queen falls. I gave thanks that the blue breath had not blown this year, nor a time of wailing, when the thread had been pulled from the great sweater, if I may be permitted the expression. Though perhaps my task would be easier. Different at least. I put the filling inside as per the recipe then used the fork. Next came Silvanus. I spent the time searching for the source of the powerful magic that infused this whole accursed place. The old man had told me of the trap, but not of its proper entry. Concealed cleverly, it took nearly the whole day to discover, as it was under an impressive enchantment. After I had peeled back the layers of sorcery, the circular (of course) hatch was revealed for all to see. No key would turn this lock. For that, I would wait another day to concoct the solution. I wondered how it would all work. A good vibration mayhaps?
Descending, I was reminded of the lost mine in the Sword mountains and the source of the noise within. This one would be silent and much more dangerous. Down two flights, the source of the late mage's power was revealed. She, that radiant reflection of twilight fading to darkness, some distant and lesser cousin to Myth Drannor, beckoned like a selective cambion. To enter her warm embrace would surely spell disaster. Not on the scale of Elturel, whose populace, overrun by undead, prayed for a Companion to help. Instead, I borrowed a cup, but not of sugar. Clad in winter's whitest gown, Her snow enshrouds the dead. My fond recollections of Taggit notwithstanding, this one I had procured in Menzoberranzan when the shimmering dark one told me it would not fail. Were her goods spoiled? No, she pleaded, but I urged her to taste it for herself. Indeed, the addition succeeded and the towel clothed girl soon succumbed. I celebrated with one of her untouched ones. I would have preferred a Berduskan Dark, but it was early, and I still had plenty to do. A dark return. His words, spoken through a husk, had been very specific. An argentum count of icy towns frozen far in the west to make an electric mixture of green gold. My mind wanders to ponder other dark returns, like the time when that light deprived city appeared in the sky, and the wailing death spread across Neverwinter. Poor Tilverton. After all, my directives were organized and not at all wild. No longer would that hesitant fool return. A ratio, not quite even, had coalesced in the bottom. Weep not for those she traps in time. No teary eyes, this one, but something similar sounding. Rippy maybe? I pondered with a smirk. Certainly I had been. I mixed the result with the radiant waters, and the mixture shimmered with a brilliant crimson. I added the dew of the sea and the solution thickened into a burgundy paste. The woman who drew dragons would surely approve. I poured the whole mess into a bucket and readied a selection of brushes. What a strange abjuration! Until I finished his last will and testament, I was at his mercy, however capricious.
Renowned by all, across the realms and never once a slave. I whistled as I cleaned. By then, the sky had gone the way of the citadel outside Oakhurst. I thought the new day most appropriate as I examined the exsanguinated body before me. O sing a song of Elturel when foes are at her door. Goodbye my fair dame, you too shall sink into the earth perhaps to rise again. I sealed my hard-earned bucket and left it before the vault. She would take the rest of Kelemvor and I would use my bequeathed bed. A dog that knows how to heel. Never heeds plea nor command. Mother gave it a tasty meal. Dog chose instead to eat her hand. Would I cause grief? Certainly. Avoid the blame? I hoped so. Never give up, Nandor once said to me. But he lived in the darkness and the day that feeble hand relented and turned the knob for me was anything but. A time to begin anew. A new life for me and a new after life for the other. I began as a vassal, but, before long, it would be me who would be master. Like the cursed canine in the bedtime rhyme, he would soon regret his hospitality. Never one to waste, I carefully secured the extract within the partially open door. Sovereign of summers lost, general of winter's war. May She reign forevermore in her crystal palace. I carefully inscribed her name in flowing script. The beautiful letters reminded me of that singular time, when the ghostly voice beyond the Basilisk Gate lamented, not of her lost love but of the fallen: The sun downs on her ruddy cliffs, And fields green and still. This land of long abiding joy, Home of the strong and brave. Finished, the variegated ring appeared to me. Wheels and circles everywhere, almost a fetish it seemed. The shape reminded me again of fallen Elturel, lost among the desolate battlefields through the multi colored pools. Circles within circles, my object contained within the concealed layers and I would turn a time for each one of that accursed place. First, I would celebrate the color of the smoke in the high sun games and jeer that Luskan Wyrm's trading post.