Sealing Away the Vaunted or How I learned to love the Abyss

[Gwain]

Lo and behold the vast rage and desperation of the Vaunted, the fallen lord of ghosts and His brood of Broken!
What were they but the chafe of the field and the dew of depression? How they quailed and wept when He of Necromancy was placed in tiny living space and made undone! How they stormed the North, how they sought the unknown locale.

Praise the adventurers, who went from Waterdeep into the Howling Deep below the Peak and tore forth the flux of the portal. Praise be to the driven, that drained the negative energies of the Desolation, the Vaunted's own work to power the portal to send Him to Doom, To the Eternal War, to the Abyss.

Into the Realmspace they went, through the aid of the Divine Solar, they did go, praise to those that stayed behind lest they fell, praise to those that went home to make the escape known. Their sacrifice is glorious, the time they gave precious. It shall echo.

Those that remained, the archon found in the Dread Night of Zelatar, the threefold, Zelatar the Golden, Zelatar the hub of accursed Azzagrat. Here they went to the great barge of the Silt Sea and into the wilds of Chaos. To Zintor, the Viperwood forest, the realm of demons and demonic growth, to the Final Range, the twisted mountains of Murder and to the Portal to the Astral Sea, the lifeblood flowing between the realms.

In the Sea of Night, in the star drenched drink of Old dreams did the gods die and make land, did Monster, Element and Holy mingle in the waters of Perdition.

Behold the ship of the Damned, the cold sails of the Ghostflame, the prison of Gods, Men and Monsters, racing the storms of Oblivion. Eternal do they row. The Ethergaunt, lord of Jails, the Gray One awaited. Releasing the Geas of control, taking the Vaunted, Velsharoon to His internment. Lo, and did the Grey One rebuild the Hand of Bane from the Talon he sent to the realms, strong and ready. Given to the Deva to take to the Prime once and again.

Raging Below was Bane, bound to ore and defeated this time, the balance restored. Revenge sworn on the chosen and anguish known. So they, the adventurers left, to the roots of the ancient world, where the ruinous powers live among the Night eternal, the Underdark. So they climbed the roots and returned to the lands of light and song.

And the Balance was restored, somewhat, for the Hand of Bane is here, and the caress of touch is never far away...for long.

Gwain Rambash

Kobold Chow Salesman.

[Gwain]

A brief note of recent events.

When ghosts and ghouls are concerned, there are no rules, though slimes only come out in spite.

Let it be said that the travellers to the Abyss, the gaolers of retribution, the doom of the Vaunted did disturb the Realm of Ghaunadaur, the Lord of Slime.

He sent his chosen servant, a great she beast of tentacled horror onto Waterdeep, and She with ring on each tentacle of power did attack the city with a host of slimes, monsters and undead. Many brave souls were slain, many more survived thanks to the rag-tag adventurers that met the mettle of the Abomination among them.

The battle spilled into the Shrine of Helm, the young temple in Waterdeep near the North Gate. The carnage was thick and the foundations were shaken, but the Divine Servant of That Which Lurks fell.

Afterwards it was garnered that things were taken by the slimes. The Everbright Helm of the Steeleyes being one, a great relic of faith. Where and for what reasons remains unknown.

Time will tell...it always does.

Gwain Rambash.