More from the Dragonlance campaign! 5e Spoilers.

Check out the previous segment here.

• Allen Silver – Half Elf – Bard
• Ambrosius – Minotaur – Fighter
• Kamb Font – “gnome” (actually a Changeling, but the party doesn’t know that) – Rogue
• Leil’thienne – Drow – Artificer (Alchemist)
• Talis Silverrose – Human – Wizard
• Aelamin Willowspirit – Half-Elf – Paladin (Knight of Solamnia)
• Cole – Human Cleric

One of Darrett’s commanders paced back and forth, his arms folded behind his back as he turned towards those gathered before him – a half elf, a minotaur, a gnome, an elf, a human wizard, another half-elf, and a human cleric. They were a motley group, to say the least, and Darrett had placed all of his trust in them.

The commander rolled out the map, and placed a pin in an area marked as “Wind’s End” – and his finger moved across the map, “This is Lost Pass. This is where a large force of the Dragon Army has holed up. They stand between us and the entrance of City of Lost Names. Darrett tells me he has placed his faith and trust in all of you and that you’ve helped him in the past. I don’t know who you are; I’ve heard whispers of things you may have done. But Darrett believes in you, so I guess I am to believe in you as well. Darrett and I will be using our force to engage with the Dragon Army at Lost Pass, with the idea that the rest of you will be able to sneak in.”

The commander, with his hands firmly on the table looked at those gathered around, “We will be a distraction, attacking those Dragon Army forces and their Dragonnel. I know the people beyond this tent,” one hand rose to point behind him, “are faceless soldiers to you – but to me, many of them are friends, sons and daughters of those who perished at Kalaman, who now pick up sword and shield to avenge their parents. Many will be sacrificing themselves for you. Do not fail us.” The commander removed the pin and rolled up the map. “Darrett has more words to speak with you. I will fetch him and let him know we’ve discussed his plan.”

It had been a few short hours after Darrett had come into the tent, confirming the plan, that Talis and his companions were scaling the side of the mountain as Darrett led his soldiers towards the entrance of Lost Pass. Talis paused, the wind blowing his tattered robes around him, his hair welcoming the cool, night’s breeze, as it cooled his body. His eyes stared down below just as the attack began – he could swear he heard Darrett’s voice calling for the charge. Talis could see the clash of steel as armies clashed below. Talis thought of his brother, Rhen, and wondered how Talis would feel – knowing that his brother could have been down there, as a Knight of Solamnia, potentially sacrificing his life just to be a distraction. He knows his brother would have done so – and done so willingly – because that was what a true Knight would do. Talis’ hand went to the sword his father had given him before Talis chose to turn away from following in his father’s footprints. He gripped the hilt hoping to feel that courage – that honor that was expected of a Knight of Solamnia, but all he felt was cold, lifeless steel.

Talis felt a firm hand on his shoulder, and the minotaur, Ambrosius, voice grumble, “We must keep moving, wizard. The longer we take the more lives are lost.” Talis cast one more glance at the battle unfolding behind them, then turned to face the stone canyon wall and continued to climb.

As they snuck over the last cliff and gazed down into the opening, they were now looking at Wind’s End – the last defense before the entrance somewhere down below. Kamb Font, a rather effective gnome who seemed to live in shadows and darkness, whispered, “You know what to do wizard.”

Talis stood and nodded. He raised his quarter staff, and began to speak the twisted, spidery words of the arcane, concentrating to ensure each word was spoke with the correct pronunciation; even to be slightly off could alter or cause terrible consequences. As the final words fell from Talis’ lips successfully – a spell he was all too familiar with casting – channeled through his body – igniting a large sphere below as a fireball descended from the heavens and struck many of the Dragon Army soldiers below. Screams of terror and pain rang out as they had not expected any attack – especially a magical attack.

Aelamin, Ambrosius and Kamb Font were already running down the side to engage the surprised soldiers, when Talis heard a sound and screamed, “Move!” His fireball as it had descended from the heavens had struck a patrolling dragonnel from above, who now spiraled uncontrollably into the ground – though the warning had come in time, the dragonnel’s wings had struck everyone standing around Talis.

“Is everyone all right,” Cole shouted.

Talis was pulled out from beneath the dragonnel’s broken wings by Leil’thienne and Allen. “Talis has been hurt,” Leil’thienne called out.

“I’m fine,” Talis moaned as blood decorated his lips. “I just need help standing.”

“Just stay still, Talis,” Allen growled as he stood up and peered over the fallen dragonnel at the combat below, watching his other three companions.

Cole kneeled next to Talis and placed his own hand on the talisman of Mishakal he wore, whispering a prayer to bring healing to Talis; and the prayer was answered as Talis’ wounds healed, though he’d still felt winded from the dragonnel knocking the wind out of his lungs.

Those Talis had targeted with the fireball had survived the attack; something Talis was not able to confirm before the dragonnel above them had crashed into them, but Aelamin, Ambrosius and Kamb were moving through the battle field, taking them down. Talis’ eyes caught sight of one of the dragonarmy commanders leaping onto one of the dragonnels. Talis knew that if he could take flight – he could go back to the army and bring back forces that would obliterate them. Talis concentrated on the commander as he began to pull on the reigns of the dragonnel to force it to gain momentum to take flight – and brought a beam of crackling, purple lightning, lancing toward the commander, from the heavens – the purple lightning finding their mark. “Stop the rider,” Talis shouted.

But Ambrosius, Aelamin, and Kamb were too far, caught up in the sounds of combat. Allen, however, seeing Talis’ gaze and hearing his voice, targeted the dragonnel, who began making a sound as if it were laughing.

“Talis!” Leil’thienne’s voice called out. Talis turned and saw two soldiers had scaled the side and were now there next to them. Talis put himself between Leil’thienne and the two soldiers. His hand went to the hilt of his sword – and again, he felt cold, lifeless steel. Talis touched his chest instead, and a shimmering image of a black dragon emerged from behind him and seemingly entered Talis’ body as he opened his mouth and spewed acid forth, similar to the black dragon they’d encountered Camp Carrionclay not long ago. He channeled that same destruction, that same fear, into himself and embraced the shadow and he heard Wyhan’s voice again…

“I was wrong about you, Talis,” the voice boomed. It’d been her voice but it spoke with the thundering intensity of the black dragon. “I am so very rarely wrong – and I despise admitting when I am. But you… son of a Knight… I see it now… I see past the shield you held before me… hiding what truly lies in that soul of yours… the shield hid your true self… You are both a son of a Knight… but also the son of Night… darkness and shadow swim within you… the thirst for more… the thirst for magic… the thirst for power… you crave more than you possess and you know the way to do just that… to embrace the shadow… embrace the ash…”

The two soldiers had raised their arm and shields in defense as the acid spewed forth from Talis’ mouth; the distraction had been enough so that Leil’thienne could use one of her alchemical potions to throw it at the men’s feet, defeating them. Talis and Leil’thienne looked down at what had been going on at Wind’s End when they both heard a loud sound – another dragonnel had become aware of them and strafed the battlefield, firing a crossbow at his companions, before yet another dragonnel appeared, whose massive wings kicked up the dirt in Wind’s End making the battlefield below impossible to see.

“We need to get down there,” Leil’thienne urged. Talis agreed, and the two quickly scaled down into the canyon. As the dust cleared the soldiers had been killed but the dragonnel the commander had jumped on was ready to take flight. Leil’thienne quickly threw one of her alchemical solutions at the dragonnel’s saddle – as the bottle shattered, a dark, murky, black cloud of darkness encompassed the dragonnel – which now blinded, tried to take flight but slammed into the walls of the canyon.

“I think I found the entrance,” Kamb’s voice called out. Talis and the others rushed to Kamb’s side and found an oddly covered door. Prying it open – they made their way inside – discovering they were trapped in a cloak of darkness similar to what Leil’thienne had done to the dragonnel for an extensive time, forcing them to move slowly through the magical darkness.

When they pierced the darkness, emerging on the other side, spectral dragon heads, made of green flame hissed in an ancient language. “They’re speaking Draconic,” Aelamin whispered, “they’re calling us betrayers and desecraters.”

Aelamin displayed his talisman of Paladin, and then pointed to Cole, “We are servants of the gods of light – Paladine and Mishakal. We stand against the shadow and the Dark Queen.” Talis wasn’t sure why – when Aelamin said he stood against the shadow – that it had been somehow, indirectly – aimed at him. He gripped his Quarterstaff and prepared for the worse from these spectral images; but they seemed to hiss less before dissipating like mirages.

“I’ll scout ahead,” Kamb offered. Talis and the others slumped against the wall. A moment to breathe felt good; bones ached as adrenaline surges tapered off. Kamb returned and shook his head, “That passage is an old shop. There’s some kind of statue in there; large, stone one – didn’t want to mess with it.” The other passage seemed to be flooded. “I can check that way.”

Kamb swam under the water – and a short moment later, Allen and Leil’thienne shouted, “Kamb needs help!” Talis placed his hand on Ambrosius’ shoulder, “Go with speed.” And suddenly Ambrosius felt a surge in his body as he was magically hasted.

Talis slummed against the wall. Leil’thienne turned, “Talis?”

“I’ll be fine,” Talis whispered. “Just feel like I’ve not been able to catch my breath since the dragonnel crashed on us. Ribs still feel bruised. Hard to breath. Just going to catch my breath. I’ll be there in a moment.”

By the time Talis had swum under the water and joined the others in the flooded tavern, the horrific toad-like monster laid dead on the floor with Kamb and Ambrosius standing next to it, they blades covered in the sickly ichor of the creature’s blood.

Talis had blacked out for two minutes out in the hall, when he’d been left all alone – and was surprised to have found his spell book open – and a new spell scribed in his spell book – Phantasmal Killer.

He could swear he heard Wyhan’s voice laughing in the back of his head.