After a long and well-deserved rest in the rocky grey hills of the Greypeak Mountains, the heroes consulted with their seer-cleric, who instructed them to journey toward the Brittlebury Enclave; this decision was seconded by the gnome kineticist, now fully charged and crackling with psychic energy.
Unfortunately for the heroes, their ability to navigate the untamed wilderness did not meet their raw determination, and they became severely lost in the never-ending expanse of jagged rocks and soaring peaks. As they luckily found an old and unused dwarven mining path, they stumbled into a Metalmaster ambush, as their metal trinkets, armour and blades whirred and danced about their bodies. Rusted blades and crags of rocky ore soared through the air and shattered against them, sending them scattering as the massive steely slugs crept toward them, hissing metal orbiting their slimy forms. The hexblade and his dark companion moved to stop the furthest one, while the psychic warrior charged directly at the closer one, hoping for an easy kill. He was met with a blizzard of tatters of steel and rust, that threatened to shred him alive! Thankfully, his blade struck true and deeply wounded the beast, while the warlock seared it with a devastatingly powerful blast of bloody fire. A keening mental shriek rang true as the psion shattered the mind of the remaining Metalmaster as the hexblade hid behind his shield, and hoping to engage the now-cursed beast. It fell and was effortlessly slain by a vengeful hexblade, his necromantic blade soothing his wounds as it bit the now-defeated beast. Searching a nearby dried-out river-cave, the group discovers the remains of the beasts’ former victims, their mostly rusted and non-magical treasures and a heavily damaged, but still functioning clockwork steppe pony. The gnome decides that he should ride it from here on in, instead of walking.
Pressing onward, they arrived at the Brittlebury Enclave, only to find the mostly deserted and water-sodden former gnome outpost strangely silent. The gnome discussed hauntings and the manner of ghosts with the cleric and then unexpectedly launched a series of massively-powered pyrokinetic explosions that ripped the sagging frame of the old alehouse to pieces. Safely back, the gnome and his party watched at the haunted tavern burned under psionic fire, as distant and pittiful wails could be heard – it seemed that the hauntings of the wretched place were finally over.
As they watched the fires burn low the haunted place, a bog-ridden skeleton began to bubble up from a nearby pool of muck, announcing itself as a servant of a dark cleric of Elemental Water calling himself Hrakkath Si’in. He addressed the trespassers and made a demand upon them for violating his realm. The gnome instead decided to berate the skeleton and spoke in riddles and lobbed childish insults upon the messenger. The Oghman cleric joined in and Alerach kicked at it and then bashed it with his mace until it shattered shrieking, promising pain and torment upon the heroes. As they pressed onward and further explored the ruins and carefully checking for any trace of the former high water-speaker of the temple of Elemental Water, they were met with a terrific gout of steam and fog. Then, from out of nowhere, two dragonscale bugbears formerly in the employ of the Temple of Elemental Evil fell upon them. They saw the deranged form of Hrakkath Si’in, clad in a mithral mail adorned with horrors of the depths, as he gripped a salt-encrusted spear. He was obviously heavily protected in spells and magic, as darkness and flashes of ice swirled around him defensively. He creaked out a powerful spell that coated the heroes armour in thick ice that severely chilled them and hindered their movements, making them easy prey for his bugbear allies. However, the gnome psion was able to avoid an untimely series of deaths by warping ahead of the bugbears each and every time they attempted to cleave his ice-encrusted form. The warlock, although not able to blast through the thick, cloying fog that Hrakkath Si’in hid behind, he was able to slowly destroy many of the abjurations that the insane cleric relied upon through his invocations. Alerach and Cael manage to take care of the bugbears, but the gnome is wholly incapacitated, and unable to effectively bring his powerful energy blasts to bear. As alerach crushes the last bugbear under his crackling mace, the psychic warrior makes a charging, psychically-empowered leap and manages to catch the fallen cleric entirely off guard; the rusted teeth of his dire scimitar bite hard, delivering a devastating blow that shatters bone, nearly cleaving him in twain! They scan the area for magic and content that they’ve looted the fallen villains and effectively disabled the fallen cleric’s sway in the area, they make their way back to Zhedarak.
Fighting exhaustion from a frenzied battle, combined with a few hours of wading through the dangerously rocky terrain, they decided to set up camp against a steep, rocky incline. Barely a few hours into the fireside watch, the gnome’s keen eyes saw movement in the far off distance, followed by the thudding gallop of something very large and very angry hurtling toward the camp. He hurried off to warn his allies, just in time to see a large, crimson-scaled pot-bellied reptilian creature belching flames. Worse still, riding upon it was a lithe, grey and ice-scaled draconic beast astride the fire-breather; it whirled a long and jagged looking spear. The heroes leapt to their feet just in time, as the large red beast began to exhale breathy plumes of searing hot fire, badly harming the warlock, as tongues of flame flickered against his friends. Drawing upon their psychic powers, the gnome and his cohort fortified their bodies against the flame, while the warlock crept up a nearby wall. The cleric healed his allies as best he could, allowing for the hexblade and the psychic warrior to charge the red beast and batter it twice. Drawing upon this opportunity, the gnome unleashed a cryokinetic blast that tore through the firebelcher, freezing it and causing it fall on its side and shatter.
The white dragonrager used the benefit of its deceptively strong limbs and jagged longspear to keep the heroes at bay. It tore viciously into the psychic warrior and took a hideous chop at the warlock, but fell to the combined might of the hexblade and the psychic warrior, the hexes sapping its ability to fight, and the psychic warrior’s powerful and withering blows. Returning to rest after such a seriously taxing battle, the cleric used the last of his prayers to heal his battle-weary allies. Somehow, between the howling winds and the smouldering wreck of their former camp, they crept into a deep rest.