Over the past tenday, our Sword Coast allies assembled their combined military forces: marching, flying, and teleporting armies of men, dwarves, elves, and metallic dragons to face Tiamat’s Cult in an epic final battle on the stony fields surrounding the Well of Dragons. The mournful, ever-present tones of the Draakhorn have now unified to a steady, loin-quivering baritone rumble of impending doom that, frankly, makes me wet. Without a doubt, Beshaba will imminently deliver glorious divine misfortune to either Tiamat’s Cult of the Dragon, or the people of Faerun. I cannot help but feel enormous pride in my goddess: either way this goes down, it is all up to Lady Doom.
Sir Brick and Sir Gunxaaruul, both Chevalls with the Order of the Gauntlet, coordinated our fellowship’s plans with Ontharr Frume, the O.G. Tormite paladin who was serving as our allied forces’ Field Marshal. Our mission was to infiltrate the temple of Tiamat at the top of the dormant volcano, using our guile and cunty skullduggery.
With spells and potions our party turned invisible, save for Gunx, who strode forward confidently with his cultist garb and draconic appearance. Surveying the lightly guarded entrance to a lava tube tunnel, Gunx approached the cultist guards and their beastly red drakes peacefully, but was met with accusations of being a would-be deserter. Distracted by the dragonborn, the cultists were confused when we appeared and attacked.
More cultists came out of the tunnel and joined the fight. We were outnumbered, but they were outmatched: we dispatched these defenders without delay and entered the tubular tunnels, trying to trek to the twisted temple at the top. When we came to a chamber decorated with the sumptuous Thayan furnishings and personal effects of the Red Wizard Rath Modar, we knew we were on the right path. A spirit of mischief inspired me to take something from Modar, and leave him something behind in exchange.
We continued until we came to another chamber, and saw a lone guard outside the door at the far end of the room. We stealthily approached, but suddenly another guard rounded the corner and spotted our party. I quickly cast a shroud of infernal Darkness over them, so we would have a moment to plot our next moves. Intuitively, our group agreed on a pincer maneuver. I dispelled the darkness and headed north, followed by Tolarin and Gunx, while Brick, Jorad and Tegan went south.
The dulcet tones of Tegan’s Shatter spell. The twanging rhythm of Brick’s bowstring. The withering screams from Jorad’s Circle of Death. The meat-and-bone thump and crunch of the monk brother’s blows of foot and fist and mace. These sanguine sounds all accompanied the Draakhorn drone and the chaotic cacophony of battle beautifully. With glee, I fired off a round from my new Wand of Fear, terrifying the pathetic cultist cats and dragon dogs as I Misty Stepped away to safety, a Wild Magic surge left me with a lingering teleportation ability. Win or lose the final battle, this might be the best moment of my life, Lady Doom be praised!
We returned to a tunnel that was blocked by rubble, and took the time to clear the obstruction. The tunnel, probably recently burrowed by umber hulks, led us to a sinkhole. We spotted dragons wheeling in the air above before they spotted us, so we went back down the tunnel. We passed a drake kennel and a number of prisoner pens, where we found one living boy, named Stirling, hiding among the starved corpses. We told him to hide in Rath Modar’s room where he would be safe, and hoped that might be true.
Eventually, we found a narrow way leading up to the Temple of Tiamat: a macabre monument, half volcanic, half draconic, bone and stones intertwined and erected by powerful ritual magic. Among ten chanting cultist wizards, half in the air and half on the ground, we recognized Rath Modar, the Red Wizard of Thay. An infernal portal was beginning to coalesce in the centre of the temple. Tegan, intuiting we had no time to dally, brazenly leapt to the attack.
Our fellowship poured out of the hole behind him, firing darts and arrows, slinging spells and strikes. After taking down a few of the malevolent mages, the others vanished from view to invisibly resume their ritual. With no reliable way to detect our hidden adversaries, it seemed we had only one option. Brick drew his legendary Luck Blade, and called upon its wondrous wish-granting ability to bring ruin to the Temple of Tiamat itself.
Blessed Beshaba, the Maid of Misfortune, must have heard Brick’s beseeching, for his wish was immediately granted. Lady Doom began to dismantle the heretic Temple of Tiamat with a great rumbling earthquake. Invisible mages were shaken from their perches, and became suddenly visible as they hit the stone floor. Gunx, on the other side of the enormous chamber, opened a door, but evidently did not like what he saw inside. He quickly closed the door, and started to run back to us. With ruin raining down around us, my fellow cunts jumped bak down the hole into the tunnels, urging Gunx to hurry. Alas, debris blocked the opening before Gunx could join us.
The Dragon Cult ritual has failed, but Rath Modar has escaped, and now Gunx is separated from the party. Lady Doom works in mysterious ways, klaatu barada nicto amen.