With Merrick resigned to Nothrog occupation for the time being, and a score of Dwarves delivered safely to Dragon Keep, we returned to the service of the Free Kingdoms by contacting Duchess Cassandra of Andover.
This time, at least, the vision I received was clearer: four armies arrayed in the field just east of the walls of Merrick, with Sceth Hellbringer overlooking all from the city walls. Grand armies of humans and dwarves are flanked by Elven and Nothrog forces. Strategically, it looked grim. Though we don't know whether to interpret this vision literally (as a premonition of a future battle) or figuratively (it accurately describes the larger military condition of the Free Kingdoms, though the Dwarves don't seem similarly trapped yet), it's far more concrete than our past "revelations".
Cassandra, busy dealing with an Elven advance on Toris Kelt, implored us to investigate the happenings in the mountains far east of Merrick, towards the Shattered Lands. Monsters of all kinds have been seen migrating east into the mountains, and she fears that somebody is raising an army there. Gaston confirmed her observations, and further warned us that all his attempts at scrying were blocked beyond a certain point; at least that gave us a rough area in which to start looking.
From my studies, I knew that the most significant landmark in that area was Black Rock, a long-dormant volcano which dominates the mountain landscape at the edge of the Shattered Lands. Nearby, Blackwater Lake and the Blackwater tribe of Cyclops take their name from the volcano. The Shattered Lands themselves are the stuff of legend: destroyed by the evil moon Bascaron, they are rife with all manner of mad beasts. Only the mad or the powerful (or both!) go there save in direst need. I hope our journey does not take us that far.
Riding our ethereal mounts eastward at unearthly speeds, we reached the region where Gaston's scrying failed on the fourth day. The foliage, and almost all natural life, ended abruptly, as if we passed some invisible curtain between worlds. Only dead trees and bare rock remained. We encountered a group of eight pitiful lizardmen, and were forced to kill most of them when they attacked with a crazed hunger. Malakar and Durthen managed to knock two out for interrogation, and though they didn't say much, we discovered that they were under some kind of compulsion to travel east.
Soon enough we came upon the ruins of Blackwater village; the village appeared abandoned, and some violent event had ruined many structures some months ago. Erson identified a huge skull as that of a Cloud Giant. We were approached by two Cyclops, and Durthen smoothly assured them that we meant them no harm. Sublon and Mogrom explained that everything started to go wrong shortly after the arrival of Sorscha, a wizard. Initially, Sorscha's lizardmen thralls had traded with the village, purchasing supplies and food for their construction of a keep on the lower slopes of Black Rock. Then, over time, the blight appeared and food became scarce. The river and its fish developed a foul taste. Life was already getting hard when the crazed Cloud Giant arrived through in a riot of destruction. A handful of Cyclops managed to band together to slay the giant, and now scrabble out a living nearby.
I admit to some misplaced hope that I might have found a kindred spirit in Sorscha. Indeed, what wizard has not dreamt of retiring to the edge of the world, to found a stronghold worthy of the most important experiments? The zone of death and the adoration of monsters probably should have tipped me off a little earlier (the whole snakes-for-hair thing too, but I'm getting ahead of myself).
Sorscha continued her construction spree with a cylindrical tower, and since then a steady migration of monsters have come to camp on her grounds. Her army is still growing rapidly, as we observed over the single night that we watched -- a varied encampment of monsters fills the gentle slope between keep and tower, with terrible-yet-passive beasts transfixed and unmoving, their eyes locked on the tower itself.
The tower itself is sixty feet in height and constructed of a smooth and featureless obsidian-like substance, yet to be identified. Our first investigative sortie took us to the top of the tower at night, to attempt entry via an iron trapdoor (the only entrance that Erson could see). Frustratingly (but unsurprisingly given Gaston's failure to scry), my attempt at clairvoyance fizzled. Even worse, any spells which came into contact with the tower itself, or the iron door, seemed to be absorbed by the structure itself before having any effect -- my knock failed, and several longer term spells were cancelled too. I can't identify either effect: divinations appear to be prevented over a wide area, and the structure itself (or at least its outer wall) has broader protections. It isn't an anti-magic field, as far as I can tell, but it is an effect of similar or even greater power.
My suggestions to negotiate with the yet-to-appear Sorscha were rebuffed (perhaps wisely, perhaps not), and the group resolved instead to attempt entry to the keep on the following night after spending the day (well, Borrow spending the day) watching for sentries or movement patterns. The keep turned out to be mundane and poorly-defended; my compatriots dispatched or disabled the entire host of lizardmen guards without so much as a peep of alarm.
The decor of the keep was both rich and informative. Tapestries and statues depicted a race of snake-haired humanoids, dominating the other races of the Accordlands. I shared a brief history of the Medusans (for such they were) with my companions: their civilization was powerful and advanced, spanning what is now the Shattered Lands. Their dominance was ended by the coming of the blood moon, Bascaron, and the monstrous transformation of their cities and lands. It seems likely that Sorscha herself is Medusan, given her choice of art, so apparently some Medusans are left.
Aside from some ill-timed and unfocused looting (statues and light fixtures seem to be popular; note to self: shrink item), things didn't get really interesting until we reached the third floor. There we found a magical laboratory, with an bloodstained magical circle inscribed
on the floor, a silver mirror for scrying, a bookshelf, and notes and diagrams layering the walls. The plans were fragmentary and incomplete, but their aim was clear: Sorscha was investigating an unnatural conjunction of many planes in a single multispaciotemporal point. The books were written in Medusan and covered a variety of topics; I gathered a sample of the more interesting ones for further investigation (and to add spice to my collection, soon to be housed in a library of me own).
On the fourth floor we found Sorscha's bedchamber, though whether she's currently in residence is unclear. Borrow found a chest of coins, which led to more squabbling, but at least nobody tried to abscond with the statue this time (probably because it was seven feet tall). Borrow also found a secret door, leading to another, more advanced laboratory. Here the diagrams became even clearer: Sorscha was planning a clockwork engine of some sort, a terrible device that might bring about the planar conjunction. To what end, though?
Malakar speculated that Sorscha wished to revive her race, though I can't see how the planar conjunction would accomplish that. The congregation of monsters, the dead zone, the absorbing tower; it reeks of unearthly power and dire purpose. Most tellingly, the magical circle in this laboratory is clearly a Teleportation Circle: powerful magic far beyond my reach. I now hope that we never meet Sorscha herself -- I fear she might overmatch us completely.
There are so many things which could go wrong at this point it's hard to keep track of them all. The tower could absorb all my magic, leaving me helpless. The army of monsters could smell us and attack en masse. Sorscha could dominate us and turn us into her pawns. The planar conjunction may already have begun. Borrow could keep all the gold for himself.
There seems nothing for it but to try to discern her purpose, and then to stop her machinations by any means possible; it seems unlikely in the extreme that her work is to the good of the Accordlands. So I step now boldly into the teleportation circle, expecting to find myself within the tower proper, but with only nightmarish fragments of knowledge about what we might find there.
