The crew of the Tireless Wanderer pressed on into the darkness below. After several tense minutes of descending crumbling stairs and pausing to search the debris for any more signs of monstrous danger the explorers arrived at an obsidian plateau. It’s surface was covered in fine black powder and etched with strange symbols that nether Lucien nor Winnifred could identify. Leading from the plateau were two doors and a pillar that had fallen over from a nearby balcony.
The first door revealed a large cylindrical chamber covered in the same black powder and small, bead-like shards of crystal. In the presence of light the crystal glowed, seeming to collect and amplify the light. Quickly discovering that the casting of a simple light spell on the crystal itself produced a blinding flash they collected a sample to take back to Bral and continued to explore.
The second door, unlike the first, was sealed and cold to the touch. Only the combined might of Lucien and Lord Tubby Fuzzywumple was enough to slightly budge the stone door. For the moment the door was cracked a gale of arctic wind which forced the door shut again. Captain Harlocke elected to press on and return to this mystery on the return trip.
Using the fallen pillar as a makeshift bridge the crew discovered what appeared to have been once a lavish apartment, though the untold centuries had reduced most of the furnishings to dust. The building shook and they discovered that at some time in the ancient past the tower they were on had cracked down the center, the door from the apartment led into a room that tilted away at a sharp 45 degree angle.
The crew descended through a series of ruined hallways, fallen pillars, precarious gaps, and debris strewed rooms until they came to a harge hall near the base of one of the towers. Like all the rooms before it was coated in the fine black powder that they determined was some sort of soot. Turning the corner they were shocked to find the desiccated remains of a spell-weaver. Or at least half the remains. The creature appeared to have been torn in half at the waste. The trail of blood suggested that it had crawled to it’s final resting place before expiring.
On alert to a new and potentially deadly threat in the darkness the group of adventurers encountered one of the ancient protectors of the city. What once had been a great and powerful stone golem in aeons had been reduced to a mere shambling statue my the ravages of time. The crew pressed their advantage, not allowing the stone fists to break upon their armor, and destroyed it before any harm could befall them. Examining the remains there was no blood on its hands. It was not what had killed the spell-weaver.
Near a great staircase that led still further into the darkness beneath the city they encountered the missing half of the spell-weaver. Taking it’s strange possessions for later analysis they followed the stairs, ever cautious, until they began to hear a strange thrum. At the bottom of the stair case they discovered a cube shaped chamber who’s every surface was covered in the same strange symbols they had encountered before. In the floor there were four square pits, at the bottom of which lay summoning circles and in the center of the room, floating a yard above an obsidian pedestal was a metallic cube churning with magical energy. Before they could question its purpose a flash of light from one of the pits summoned a powerful demon.
They readied to fight or flee the monster but the cube struck it with a strange glow and it cried out in agony. The demon lifted into the air, contorting pain as it was seemingly crushed by the enveloping energy. The sound of bones breaking and grinding together accompanied the look of horror on the crew’s faces as the demon was reduced to its very essence and into the cube. The energy pulsed out from the cube along the channels of strange runes on the surface of the chamber.
The crew decided that the device was too dangerous to allow it to continue to function and attempted to determine the safest way to disable its operation. Attacking the channels of symbols caused the energy to arc wildly throughout the chamber and no one dared brave the summoning pits, so Captain Harlocke boldly threw one of his masterwork daggers at the device, decisively damaging it’s delicate magical workings and ending the arcs of energy. That was when the deep thrum begain to raise in pitch.
The energy it had been collecting was building to release, so the captain ordered the only sensible thing: retreat. The crew were half way up the stairs when a massive explosion rocked the building, collapsing the staircase behind them. A wave of arcane energy expanded past them in all directions, causing Winnifred’s faithful companion Lord Tubby Fuzzywumple to vanish and every source of light to extinguish. In the darkness all was silent.