The 13 Masters of Evil

Welcome to your Adventure Log!
A blog for your campaign

Every campaign gets an Adventure Log, a blog for your adventures!

While the wiki is great for organizing your campaign world, it’s not the best way to chronicle your adventures. For that purpose, you need a blog!

The Adventure Log will allow you to chronologically order the happenings of your campaign. It serves as the record of what has passed. After each gaming session, come to the Adventure Log and write up what happened. In time, it will grow into a great story!

Best of all, each Adventure Log post is also a wiki page! You can link back and forth with your wiki, characters, and so forth as you wish.

One final tip: Before you jump in and try to write up the entire history for your campaign, take a deep breath. Rather than spending days writing and getting exhausted, I would suggest writing a quick “Story So Far” with only a summary. Then, get back to gaming! Grow your Adventure Log over time, rather than all at once.

A small inn in the middle of nowhere

In a small inn in the middle of nowhere, this place of little significance was suddenly thrust into a series of event that no one could have ever expected. Only hours before an elven high priest of Eliathandriel was to secretly place a scroll in the belongings of a traveler he barley knew.

These travelers came into town just days before but they brought with them information that this priest had been waiting to hear all of his life. All his long years, spent studying, spent learning all there are to learn and he finds out that his answers weren’t trapped inside of a book but rather trapped within the minds of some rugged outsiders that didn’t even know, or care, about his concerns.

These outsiders took the time to be nice to him, let the priest talk with them so he could learn all there was to know but sadly, most of this was already taken care off within a scroll sent to him by Bukapana the leader of the Banner of Life. Bukapana was his cousin, at least in name, even though he was human and many years his elder. It had been a few years since Vor Caspices had last laid eyes upon his cousin and for that he had felt shame but his duties at the temple and the long distance between them certainly added to the time length.

Within this scroll was information about these travelers and the important cause they are involved with. After reading the scroll and wondering what kind of joke his cousin was playing on him, a sudden realization set in when he heard the adventure these dusty, dirty travelers had come to pass. Darkones, demons, towns destroyed, piece of some ancient spear that was used in the First Great War. All were storied, fables and good tales to tell your grandson about. That was until they showed him the ancient relic of the gods, something that once was wielded by a demon of great power and used to destroy many souls.

Sure this metal shaft could have been made just yesterday from any metalsmith in the realms but when Vor looked up this broken relic he realized that these travelers spoke the true. Bukapana words in the scroll were true and he believed Bukapana was correct in his assumptions of what needs to be done. Vor would certainly honor his cousin’s written request even though he knew what that outcome would be.

Events had played out in the last few day so that outcome would finally come within this dusty, dirty inn that was known for nothing important. Vor light a candle on the wooden table and pulled out his holy symbol which he sat next to it. He drew out his ceremonial dagger and the few magic scrolls that he posses which he piled upon a chair on the other side of the table. He wanted to be unarmed when they arrived, there was no need for a struggle and for any other unneeded bloodshed. The table he choose was by the northern side of the inn, by a window so as to see the morning sun when is arose over the top of the distant mountains. He so wanted to see the sunrise one last time and wished these hours of darkness would pass by quickly.

He wondered if the travelers had found that scroll he slipped into their backpacks and if they would come back and stop the events that would befall him. Certainly not he thought, he made it clear to run away and get as far away from this place as they could. He was hopeful that they would be miles away by now and more concerned about their own safety then trying to look for a hidden object. It was planned that way and there certainly wasn’t any reason to believe it wouldn’t end up that way. And so he waited in silence, hoping for the darkness to dissipate into morning light.

“One of the guards walked by and saw you in here, I had to come see for myself because I would have thought you’d be half way to Northpoint by now” a voice said as it entered into the inn from the front doors. It was Meniken Voraspin, as Vor knew it would be. Meniken the speaker and leader of this place on Naramos was a tall human with a deep voice, which probably was the reason why he was the speaker for this place. He would certainly be the one to confront Vor and make the final decision.

Meniken strode in quietly and walked to the window by where Vor had seated himself, he looked out into the blackness, flanked by two heavily armed banguards from Morningstar. “They say we might be having a storm in a day or two, could be a bad one coming.”

“Sure feels like winter still” Vor replied.

“What were you thinking; you’re a high priest for god sakes. People look up to you for guidance, people listen to not only your words but your actions.” Meniken paused and turned so as to look up the priest’s face.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about” was Vor quick reply.

“You were seen by several priests leaving.” “Several..” he yelled. “They all knew it was you, you didn’t even bother to use a disguise.” He pulled up a chair and sat facing Vor. “You broke into the chamber to seal it secretes even though we voted not to have that done. You knew the vote but you still did it.”

“It must have been a demon who changed to look like me, or maybe a changling, or someone using a disguise” Vor stated hoping his answer might not have a reply. Meniken smiled knowing this answer was coming but hoping against hope not to hear it. “Brother you know as well as I that if this creature was using evil purposes to enter this sacred place they would be struck down and killed immediately. Only the holy and honor bound can survive entering this chamber.” Meniken shook his head slowly back and forth. “Holy and honor bound” he yelled as he slammed his fist down upon the table knocking the candle over.

Vor smiled, he knew his answers wouldn’t supply the doubt that Meniken was seeking. “It had to be done.”

“That is not your decision to make, there are strict rules to prevent this from happening.” Meniken answered. “We voted, each had a say, you, I, everyone. If the time had come then we would have voted for it, but we didn’t, damb you, we didn’t.” Vor knew that Meniken wasn’t angry at him but angry that Vor put him into this situation, a situation Meniken nor anyone would want to be in.

“They were warned about this, they even admitted to it, they knew that more harm could come then good” Meniken stated. “Yet they choose to pass this information on, they choose it, not you.”

“I was warned as well.”

“And yet they choose, and then you choose to ignore these warnings. Could you not have learned from their mistake?”

Vor sat quietly as he straightened the candle back into its small metal holder. “Because it needed to be done, if not I then who?” Vor finally stated. He put his hands into Meniken hands. “I have made my piece with this decision, do you not sense the calmness within me, my hands they do not tremble, they do not shake, they only do so I command them to.”

“You know what must be done then, you know what the consequences for are your actions are?” Meniken questioned.

As the first rays of morning light lit upon Vor’s face he replied “That is why I am hear and not running away like a coward. Do what must be done.” Vor suddenly stood up and gazed out through the window. His quick movement made the guards jump at first but they realized there was little threat from this priest. He squinted as the soft rays of light warmed his flesh. He peered out straining his eyes to see what magically moment the sky would next allow him to see.

“You know that this information must end with you. I am hoping that you were wise enough to keep it secrete.” Meniken asked.

“Yes indeed I do hope my decision was wise” Vor replied. “Morning is certainly my favorite time, the start of a new day, the closing of an old one.” The dirt covered windows certainly didn’t give the best view but the way the light reflected off the dust made it sparkle. He was glad to be there, it was a moment in time that could not be taken back. A moment in time that he was sure Eliathandriel made just for him, at this moment, in this quite little inn, in the middle of nowhere, where nothing important ever happened….

The Adventure Begins
Pre-Adventure Background for A New Beginning For The End

Sitting on the hard, wooden chairs of the Bad Broil’s Inn may not have been comfortable, but compared to the hard ground and cold stone floors that had been the group’s resting places for the past few weeks, the chairs were like feather pillows. A recently completed treasure hunt to an almost forgotten cavern for one of Duntroon’s better merchants had paid off, and the four adventurers were glad to spread some of that wealth around. While the cold winds that scoured the open lands around the cavern had left them wondering if any amount of gold was worth the effort, but a few nights of warm beds and full bellies tinged memories of the trip with humorous nostalgia.

The quiet strains of a ballad being idly played by the house bard in the corner, and the creaking of the sign on the front of the Inn as it rocked in the wind were nearly enough to put the adventurers to sleep over their lunch. The wood and stone inn was neither large nor terribly luxurious, but the tavern room was warm and homey, and the lamb chops were the some of the best on this side of the open plains. The inn proprietor, Master Broil, had mentioned that he had a private sheep flock grazing within the outermost ring-wall of the city, and the ewes had just started their spring lambing.

A short human of perhaps fifty winters, time had not been kind to either his hairline or his waistline, and so Broil was nearly bald, and nearly as wide as he was tall. He and his wife Alissa had built the inn for themselves over twenty years ago as an outgrowth of his butchering business, and they were fond of telling the story of how much blood, sweat and tears they had poured into the place at every opportunity, and at great length. From the scent that usually wafted around Broil, it seemed that sweat, at least, was still an integral part of the business.

The group was looking forward to at least another month of indulgence at the inn before needing to take on some other task. Be it rescuing a kidnapped child, killing some marauding darkone, recovering a half-forgotten relic, or playing bodyguard to some ponce with more money than brains, some job or another would come up to keep meat on the table. They’d worry about that later; for now, just relaxing and eating well was enough.

Just as they were finishing lunch and getting ready to go their separate ways for the day, a man burst into the inn’s tavern-room. All eyes went to the newcomer, who appeared to have been running, and even the bard went silent as the room waited for the cause of the interruption.

“Gatequest has been attacked!” belted the runner, and then paused to gasp for a breath before continuing. “Everyone’s lost, to the last man.” Then, taking a deep breath, “Something has killed them all; Duntroon is sending help. Pray to the gods for them!”

The creak of the inn sign was the only sound for a few stunned moments, until the one of the other patrons shouted, “Who did it?” But the runner was gone, as quickly as he had arrived, and the question could only bounce off the now closed door. The silence swelled to a roar as everyone began to exclaim over the news. The adventurers caught each other’s eyes and smiled grimly. Something, it would seem, had indeed come up.


The once sleepy inn now bustled with activity, as the city around it geared up for military action. News-starved citizens and travelers clustered in the bar passing rumors and speculations about the attack on Gatequest. One old-timer was convinced that dragons had done it, while another held forth that the destruction was a punishment by the gods for ill deeds, real or imagined, that the citizens of Gatequest had perpetrated. As the hours went by without any real news, the rumors grew weirder, from the ground swallowing the city whole, to plague, hill giants, assassins, angry sentient trees, air elementals, and even a pack of giant undead wolves being blamed for the attack. The bard switched from the usual romantic ballads to odes to the glory of battle. The spirited music was punctuated by regular peals of bells from the ring-walls of the city, and the crashing of pots and pans from the Inn’s kitchen. Relative newcomers to Duntroon, one of the adventures cornered Master Broil as he ran in from the kitchen to ask about the meaning of the bells, and they all braced themselves for his usual verbosity.

“Well back in the day, the bells were put in to warn the citizens of an attack on the city, but you know they haven’t been used in along time.” He laugh’s after thinking about it for a second. “In fact, about the only time they are used, now that I think about it, is when a council member dies.”

“About two months ago one was assassinated you know; horrible thing done by some Halfling named Zeilier Cox. Never did catch that fella. Some say he’s even here in town still but you never can tell. Them assassins, they can hide in the shadows and are almost like a ghost. I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of them.

“Anyways those bells ran for awhile during that time, at least the bells that worked. With hardly ever using them, you never can tell which of them will work or not. Anyway that’s the reason the bells are ringing: to warn people, especially on the outside, to watch out and be careful. It also means that the Banguard have right of way and everyone is to move out of the street when they come by. Especially them merchants and peddlers on the streets, they have to move their carts and horses out of their way when the ‘Guard come through. I’d just wish they would run them over anyways and not give them any such warning, but I guess we’d get a lot of good folk hurt, so I’m not wishing ill of anyone, so forget I said that.

“Well I got to go get ready because those bells mean one last thing and it affects me the most. They mean the Banguard get free meals and rest. They can come into any business and demand food, drink, pretty much whatever they need for free while the bells are ringing. Means the Banguards don’t have to worry about coin during a time of trouble and it’s a pretty good law to help keep order in the city. When it’s over, I’ll bill the alliance for whatever was taken and they’ll get around to paying me, sometime.”

With that, Broil resumed his rushing around to prepare his inn for an onslaught of hungry Banguards, and the adventurers settled in to listen to more rumors. At one point, the patrons of the Inn, and the adventurers with them gathered outside to watch a squad or two of Banguards march by on patrol. The distinctive banner of a griffon holding a spear in its claws flapped in the wind, and their winged helmets of painted gold gave them away. The loud jingle and clank of metal striking metal from their shields, armor, and weapons meant they could be heard before they were seen. One inn patron boasted that he had seen a squad leaving the city lead by a couple of members of the Hidden Jackals, an elite company of the ‘Guard who acted as their ears, eyes, and spearhead.

Late that evening, a team of four Banguards stopped by the inn for a meal. They were dirty and tired, their heavy leather boots covered in mud that they tracked across the wooden floor of the tavern-room. Their faces were red and chapped from the cold wind. The patrons of the inn quickly moved to give them the table closest to the hearth, and the ‘Guards wearily propped their weapons nearby so they could be picked up at a moment’s notice. As they settled in, a few of the patrons gathered around to talk to the guardsmen, but they were soundly ignored by the tired ‘Guards.

After eating their fill and greasing their throats with several mugs of Master Broil’s best ale, the guardsmen were finally willing to talk. Unfortunately, they didn’t have much in the way of news to provide, and after listening to a few minutes of them drone on about boring patrols, most of the patrons left them alone. It was clear that whoever knew what had really happened was not sharing the information, or at least not sharing it with the common folk.

The next several days brought continued chaos to Bad Broil’s Inn and the rest of Duntroon. The temples and shrines filled with people looking to the gods for answers and comfort. Many clerics had left the city with the Banguard to aid Gatequest, leaving those that remained overwhelmed by the needs of the people. The guards at the outermost gate began to question anyone seeking to enter the city, and to detain any that they deemed questionable. The innermost gate protecting the estates of the rich and powerful of Duntroon was closed to all but the members of the Banguard. Those that could afford to hired private bodyguards to protect them when they had to travel on the streets, and those that couldn’t afford bodyguards mostly stayed indoors. Panic and fear hold the city in their icy grip.

After three days, the constant state of fear began to grate on the nerves of many, and anger and annoyance heightened the already high emotions running through Duntroon. A rumor spread that the outermost ring-wall of Duntroon itself had been attacked, serving only to add fuel to the fire of panic. The four adventurers almost began to wish they were back out on the cold open plains, as the panicked commoners around them became an annoyance rather than an amusement. The inn’s soft mattresses and the benefit of the protection of the walls if the rumored attacks ever actually came were the only things keeping the adventurers within Duntroon.

At lunch on the fourth day after the attack, just as the adventurers were beginning to seriously consider joining the Banguard just to get themselves out of the city, their table was approached by Broil carrying a loaf of freshly baked bread.

“Excuse me, good sirs and ma’am,” he said, “I’ve got some fresh puffersnick bread here. It’ll really finish your lunch off with a bang, if’ you please.” One of the adventurers tossed him a gold coin, and he set the bread down, cleared his throat, and continued.

“Excuse me again, good sirs and ma’am. I don’t mean to be too forward with you, but you have been good to me and my wife. You’ve paid your bills on time and then some, and for that I wanted to say ‘May Thorax watch over you.’” He rubbed his dirty hands on a clean corner of his bloodstained butcher’s apron before continuing.

“This morning while out back of the inn cleaning some fish and washing up some of the dirtier pots, a man approached me and started asking me some questions. Well he goes on and asks me about if I knows of anyone that might be able to provide him some protection.

“Well you know I start to look at him funny ‘cause this man is pretty big, about a head taller then a normal man and so I asks him why he would need any protection.

“Well he says it’s not really him as needs this protection and suddenly one of them elves walks up out of the shadows. This elf, well it was a lady elf, and man, let me tell you this elf was beautiful. Probably the nicest looking elf I’ve ever laid my eyes on. She had them green eyes, eyes that made me stop worrying about anything else. I tell you just looking into her eyes made me feel young again. She had bright white skin and a soft, sweet voice. She looks me in the eyes and tells me that the protection they seek is for her and because of all of the recent troubles in the area they have lost all of their protection.

“She tells me that they are headed to Yellowtail but are worried ‘bout their safety traveling across the open lands.” Broil raised his hand and pointed at the wall of the inn as if the city were a mark on the wood beams.

“Anyways, I tell them that I might know of someone because I seen you in here everyday, and it don’t look like you’re too involved with what is happening around the city. I can see how everyone is shorthanded and it looks like you could use something to do. I tells the man and lady that they should seek you out later today after I’ve had a chance to talk with you, you know, to finds out if you’re interested or not.

“Anyways, I hate to lose your coins for the next month or more but that elf lady really could use your help and it would be a really fine thing to do for someone lost in their travels, especially during these days. If’n you’re interested in helping them out I’m sure you can make some good coins. I noticed the gentleman had some good quality items on his person, and the lady had a silver necklace with some gems inset so I’m sure they have some money. Besides, they tipped me a few gold coins after the conversation.

“Sorry I didn’t get any names for you; they did tell them to me but I’m ashamed that I’m not too good with names. I think he mentioned his was Verarock or something like that. I’m not sure what her name was but it is probably something amazing. Anyways, if you’re interested they will probably be here later today unless they find someone else in the mean time; they seamed to be in a pretty big hurry to get out of town and get on with their travels.”

As he finished, Broil motioned to the barmaid to bring more wine over to the table, and walked towards the back of the inn. As he left, the group could make out the faintest of sounds. It sounded as if Broil was whistling. His meeting with the elven woman seemed to have given him a new lease on youth.

The First Session
And They're Off!

“Humph,” grumped Teleria, one of the four adventurers, as she propped her boots up on the table and leaned back in her chair. “He acts like he’s never seen an elven lady before.”

“He probably hasn’t,” replied Cameo, grinning at her as he sliced himself a piece of the fresh bread.

“What do you mean? I’ve been here all week!” Teleria replied, touching the slight points of her ears, which indicated that she, like Cameo, was of half-elven stock.

“I don’t believe it was your elven heritage he called into question,” deadpanned the gravelly voice of Kriv, their Dragonborn paladin companion, “but rather your dubious status as a ‘Lady’.”

Even Belaros, the stoic Teifling warlock who completed their band, had to laugh as Teleria sputtered in indignation and threw two well-aimed grapes from her plate at both Kriv and Cameo. The grape bounced harmlessly off of Kriv’s burnished bronze scales, and Cameo merely grinned as he caught the fruity missile in his mouth.

“If you three are done with your tomfoolery…” muttered Belaros, as he gestured for Broil to return to their table. When Broil puttered around again, Belaros told him, “Please let your contacts know that we will wait here to meet with them, Master Broil.”

“Excuse me, good sir, but which of your party should I point them to?” asked Master Broil, appearing pleased that the group was willing to assist the lovely elven lady.

“You may direct them to me, if you please,” replied the warlock as he settled in to wait.

With Belaros willing to handle the waiting, the rest of the party went their separate ways to fill up the hours of the day. Cameo took his leave and indicated that he was going to investigate just what it took to become one of the elite Hidden Jackals of the Banguard, hoping his skills as a ranger might ease his entrance. Kriv decided to try to blend in with the crowd in the tavern-room, as well as a humanoid reptile could in a room full of humans, elves, and other mammals, and took to standing by the wall near the bar. Teleria ran to her room to collect a piece of torn chain mail and her pliers, and then settled down at the table with Belaros to get some repair work done.

As the sun began sinking into the horizon, Cameo returned from his errand to the Banguard and joined Belaros and Teleria at their table. Belaros and Cameo had just begun a game of knucklebones when Broil approached their table. He indicated that his contacts had returned, and asked the adventurers to follow him. Belaros gestured to Kriv to come along, and the four followed Broil through the back of the inn to its courtyard.

The four adventurers walked out of the back door of the inn and blinked in the sunlight. As their eyes adjusted, they saw a dusty square of cobbles surrounded by the Inn on two sides, and stables at the back. The courtyard opened onto an alley to the group’s left. In the shadows of the stable stood a large human man, and another, smaller figure shrouded in a cloak. The eyes of the man darted around as he took stock of the adventurers trailing behind Broil, who was cheerfully approaching, oblivious to the man’s suspicion.

“Hail, good sir! Here are those adventurers I was telling you about earlier,” exclaimed Broil, as he and the group approached the pair of strangers. The large man snorted, and glanced over at a barmaid who stepped out of the inn to fill a pot with water. When she passed back into the inn he greeted the newcomers.

The man explained that he had a very important package that needed to arrive in Yellowtail to the southeast as quickly as possible. He offered the party two hundred gold coins each to get the package safely to Yellowtail. Belaros bristled at this, as two hundred coins each was far beyond the appropriate cost for such a simple task even given the recent increase in danger. At his angry retort, the face of the large man hardened, but his cloaked companion stepped out from the shadows and calmed him with a hand on his arm.

The figure pulled down its hood, revealing the beautiful elven woman that Broil had so lovingly described. Her calm demeanor caused Belaros to hesitate, and she explained that the “package” which needed to be delivered to Yellowtail was, in fact, she. She had received a message that one of her dear friends there had fallen ill, and desperately needed to see her. She further explained that her companion was simply very worried about her, and valued her so highly that the eight hundred gold he was offering the party for her safe arrival was trivial to him. At this the man cleared his throat and brought the party’s attention back to him.

“There is one more thing,” he said imperiously, “if you fail, and anything should befall my dear Ararein, your lives are all forfeit. It’s two hundred gold if you get her there safely, but I will ensure your deaths if you should fail. After all, if I can afford to pay you this much for her safe arrival, I can surely afford to pay to have you hunted down and killed.”

After a short discussion, the adventurers agreed to the terms, confident in their ability to deliver the elven woman, Ararein, safely across the open lands to Yellowtail. Cameo suggested trying to acquire horses, since Ararein had expressed the need to arrive quickly. However, Ararein herself dissuaded him from this course, explaining that the need was not so great as to spend most of their reward on horses, nor to take the valuable animals away when they might yet be needed for the defense of Duntroon. Ararein’s companion told the adventurers that they had one hour to prepare themselves, and that they should meet at the gate of the outermost ring-wall to depart.

The companions gathered up their possessions and settled their debts with Master Broil in preparation of leaving. Cameo took his leave of his companions with an excuse that he needed to make a stop before leaving, and promised to meet the party at the gate at the allotted time. Beleros, Kriv, and Teleria made their way together to the gate, and wait there for the others to meet them.

The enterprising Cameo, rather than rushing to the gate, instead made a circuit around the nearby market to see if he could pick up any extra work delivering messages or items to Yellowtail. He was able to find another innkeeper who needed to deliver some kegs of beer to an associate there. The innkeeper placed the kegs in a magic bag of holding. This made the cumbersome kegs, ordinarily impossible for a single person to carry, easy for Cameo to hide on his person. With this extra income secured, Cameo rushed to join his companions at the gate.

At the appointed hour, Ararein and her companion joined the adventurers at the gate. The large man wished Ararein a formal farewell, and then turned to the adventurers. He shook the hand of each member of the party in turn, and then, as he handed each of them their pouch of gold coins, he whispered, “if she dies, I will have your life.” With that, the party, now five members strong, walked out of the gate and began their journey to Yellowtail.

The travelers circled around Duntroon to the southeast before heading out across the plains, following the road to Ratieal. The high walls of Duntroon, and the protection they offered, slowly faded from view, and had disappeared from sight by the end of the first day of traveling. The travelers knew that with Duntroon out of sight, they were on their own. There would be no assistance from the Banguard if they ran into trouble.

The road they traveled, normally busy with caravans and traders, was deserted. The news about Gatequest, it seemed, had caused all but the most travel-hardened to stay within the comfort of city walls. Cameo and Teleria, with their heightened senses, scouted ahead of the party, while Kriv and Belaros stayed back with Ararein to keep her safe.

The party continued along the quiet road to Ratieal for three days. They encountered neither fellow travelers or bandits along the stretch of road, made muddy by the last departing snows of winter. In the morning of the fourth day of travel, they left the relative safety of the road to trek west along the foothills of the Moridian mountains. The map which Lady Ararein supplied indicated that where the foothills of the Moridian met the Yellowtail river, they would find the village which she was seeking.

First Contact
The First Session Continues, and Dark Ones Are Encountered

Around midday of the fifth day, Cameo indicated to the party to hang back, and he and Teleria quietly moved forward.

The Second Session
New Companions Met, and the Quest Is Begun


The Third Session


The Fourth Session
Within the Ruins of Cilox, New Bonds are Formed

Maetheus and Quellon join the party.

Undead are encountered.

Teleria almost dies – twice!

The party rests in the caverns beneath the ruins.

The Fifth Session
A Companion is Slain

The password is acquired.

The party bluffs their way into the enemy stronghold.

Kriv and Davan split the party.

Kerial dies.

The Sixth Session
The True Traitor is Found, and a Great Evil Returns

The party finds a portal leading from the ruins to the Yellowtail cemetery.

Fathrana the elven ranger is found to be the traitor, in the company of undead and dark ones.

Kerial is resurrected by the Yellowtail priest of Thorax.

Cultists are fought, and the evil chest is found – empty.

The head cult-priest resurrects Viell the demon, and is drawn with the demon into the Shadowfell.


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