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The Feast of Winter - The Year of Shadows 1358 DR

Xaehyd and Sevrin find themselves in a small cave with opens upon a vast mountainous landscape. A dome of crackling blue energy can be seen half of a mile away. They are soon greeted by Elara and the others who accompany them through the teleport circle and in to the city of Evereska.

Xzar, excited to see his friends eagerly shows them the powers of the mythal. Sevrin attunes to the Everskan Mythal and is soon flying along with Xzar. Elara then conveys to the group that she is giving a speech at the temple of Labelas Enoreth. She hands out several program guides that she has collected which detail the various activities that are occurring to celebrate the holiday.

Wyatt, Sevrin, Nix, and Xaehyd accompany Elara to the temple while Roslyn, Pickle, Jarna, and Sevrin make their way to the Hall of the High Hunt.

The Temple of Labelas Enoreth

The group heading to the temple cross a bridge over the Singing Waters river and emerge upon a stand of enormous weirwood trees. Similar in appearance to giant oak trees, weirwoods are branchless at their bases with tops that expand outward like an umbrella. They begin to hear conversations which appear to originate from the trees above them and as they turn their gazes skyward, the temple of Labelas Enoreth built amidst the branches of the mighty weirwoods is revealed. A complex series of rooms are connected via vine bridges with appear to have been grown from the branches of the trees themselves. Elves can be seen walking from structure to structure. A few other elves are standing at the base of the central tree and upon closer inspection they realize that the tree is mostly hollow. An opening in to the tree holds a spiral staircase serving as an access point to the temple itself.

They proceed to make their way in to the central chapel where the last rays of sunlight streamed in through stained glass windows and reflected upon the polished wood floor. A massive golden sundial inlaid in the floor is bathed in the colorful hues of the dying light. The front half of the chapel is in the form of a hollowed out bowl with descending semi-circular rows of seating. The back half of the chapel is a stage which appears to levitate in mid-air. Upon the stage stands Elara accompanied by several elves dressed in light-gray robes of wispy, gossamer construction, which shine with deep reds, purples, and oranges where touched by the sunlight. Around their necks they wear semi-circular golden disks carved to resemble the setting sun. Wyatt, Sevrin, Nix and Xaehyd all choose to sit in the audience as the event commences.

Elara pauses before starting her speech and looks around the room. Her gaze wanders across the rows of seated elves, up the ceiling, and out towards the windows, an uncomfortable silence follows before she begins speaking:

"Hello Quessir, animals, trees, and all other intelligent life forms," Elara smiles and the faces of the robed figures standing near Elara take on a bemused look.

"As you know, my friends and I have been wandering across this beautiful land of ours... I do have a suggestion, you should let your trees grow wild. Don't try to manipulate them." Elara jumps a little as she is nudged by one of the robed figures.

"As I was saying, we've been searching for the menhir circles. Oh let me back up. We were contacted by Labelas in the Sunglade. He's in a dark place right now, but not to worry, I have complete confidence that we'll be able to bring him back. Well not to bring him back here but, you know, to bring him back to his home. It's only natural for us to have homes. I miss my home. Maybe I'll go back there." Elara's speech abruptly stops as she day dreams about her homeland.


"I've spoken to the Seldarine on Evermeet and they've told me that there are eight circles, the sunglade, obviously, then the mirrorglade. Oh yes, speaking of the Llewyrr elves, we have copies of some of their artifacts that Labelas said we could borrow. Not to worry, they've all been returned. There arn't any Llewyrr elves here, are there?" Elara looks around nervously.

"Where was I? Oh yes, the glades. There's also the Coralglade under the sea. I haven't been there personally but I hear there's a lovely little Nixie society which lives there. And of course there's the Dreamglade." One of the priests whispers something in to her ear before she continues.

"Right. There are still four glades left to find. The Wyllowglade, the Sandglade, the Frostglade, and the Bloodglade. The Wyllowglade sounds quite nice doesn't it! Once we find these glades then everything should be back to normal. Right?" The priest again whispers something to Elara.

"Oh, I should introduce my friends." Elara points out Wyatt, Sevrin, Nix and Xaehyd, increasing their recognition throughout the city.

"Someone has started a rumor that we're the Fellowship of the Circle. I guess that's a good name. I don't know. Maybe we should be the fellowship of the semi-circle, since, you know, Labelas. If you have any questions someone will be around and happy to answer them. Thank you."

Elara finished speaking and those who had purchased VIP badges were invited to stay and speak with the members of the fellowship. Sevrin spoke with Leokas Galeen, a half-elf from the village of Relkath's Foot. He invited the fellowship to stop in the village and receive a gift on their behalf. Meanwhile...

The Hall of the High Hunt

Roslyn, Pickle, Jarna, and Sevrin arrive at the base of a great open air pavilion encircled by a tightly packed colonnade of ancient shadowtop trees. The grove of trees extends outwards creating narrow, spoke-like paths which lead away from the pavilion. At the center of the pavilion is a melodic fountain of silver waters whose beauty is both captivating and soothing. The air within the pavilion smells of moss and sweet water. The shadowtops form two concentric rings around the pavilion. Each tree has been carefully grown to form one or more natural hollows within its trunk at various elevations, and looking up you see, vine rope bridges threaded through each tightly packed grove to connect the chambers in the heart of each tree. At ground level, roots, rocks, earth, and plants are woven into near impregnable defensive fortifications. Earthen chambers are hewn from the dirt beneath the grove, nestled among the tightly woven root structures.

A small line of elves had formed near the fountain in front of a broad-shouldered, young, muscular, elven woman who appeared to be handing out something.

Jarna's presence in the line with her newly acquired antlered helmet caused some distress to the other elves in the line and the group quickly made their way to the front. Jarna attempted speaking to elven lady but she only spoke elvish so Roslyn acted as interpreter. The group was offered a series of challenges which could be entered for 1 gold per challenge. During the translation, Jarna thought that there was a bone crushing challenge but it was actually a bone carving challenge.

Roslyn, Sevrin, and Jarna entered the archery competition, Jarna entered the axe throwing competition, and both Roslyn and Jarna entered the "bone crushing" competition. Roslyn was the only one to win a prize, a token, for 1st place in bone carving.

Roslyn, Nix, and Xaehyd all attended the Mystic Rites of the Luminous Cloud during deepnight while the others returned to the Leeke Towers.

Mystic Rites of the Luminous Cloud

A large crowd of elves has gathered on a hill just across the river from the Soaring Towers. A stone circle surrounds the crown of the hill with a serene wind-instrument ballad that can be heard drifting across the landscape. A crisp mild air circulates gently within the mythal as it brushed across their face and arms. Several of the elves have already entered in to a deep meditative state when the group arrives and they catch the faintest hint of jasmine perfume from a nearby participant. In the center of the circle, leading the ceremony, is a feminine elf with long blue hair that has been pulled back from her rounded face, small dark blue gemstone earrings which match the color of her eyes, a silvery-white diaphanous gown and a silver lace sash. She begins speaking in elvish.

"Blessed Sehanine let the mystery of the moonlight be revealed tonight."

A clear bell rings out across the city and silence unfolds like a curtain in the night. The ever-present glow of lantern light from the city dim enhancing the elves darkvision. The glow from the mythal itself vanishes to reveal moonlight which aligns with the capstone arch of the circle. Looking up, the clear night sky reveals a tail-shaped constellation of heavenly bodes, known as the tears of Selûne, that trail behind the moon itself. The moonlight appears to form a pale mantle upon the shoulders of every elf present. Cold air begins to settle on the hilltop as Roslyn closes her eyes and her consciousness is overtaken by a memory.

As her consciousness returns to the present a nimbus of light begins to rise up in to the sky and dart across the heavens before returning back in to the circle and sinking in to the earth. Silence. The glow from the mythal and the city lights return. The voices of the followers of Sehanine crescendo in to song, instruments begin playing, and elves start dancing as the festival concludes.

Well after midnight the remainder of the group arrives back to the inn, the Leeke Towers, where they are met by the smiling face of the inn-keeper.

"Welcome back. Don't worry we have around the clock service here to cater to your every fetish. I'll be going to bed now. I suggest you do the same." He moves towards the front entrance, locks the door, and dims the lantern on the front desk before heading in to a door behind the desk.

1st Nightal - The Year of Shadows 1358 DR

Waking late from the previous night's activities the group proceeds downstairs for breakfast. Elara looks at the group and begins to speak

"So, if you don't mind I think it's best to only perform one circle invocation per day. I'm tired of everyone getting lost and I know we can avoid that by using them less. It might delay us a day or two but there could be worse places to have to spend an extra day."

Everyone agrees and Elara uses the circle to take Sevrin and Xaehyd to the Sunglade.

2nd Nightal

Elara uses the circle to take Jarna to the Moonshae while Wyatt, Roslyn, Nix, and Xzar remain in Evereska.

A small door opened in the twenty-foot-tall white-stone walls and a tall, bearded priest stepped out, garbed in a gray skullcap. "The Crying God and St. Amahl welcome you to this humble friary!" he stated. "I am Brother Ottad yn... Hakam? I mean, yn Khiber, but... Brother Hakam, is that you?"

   Hakam nodded. "Yes," he answered in Alzhedo. "I am pleased to see you, Brother Ottad." Hakam was thankful that the man had introduced himself, because he had forgotten the Ilmatari friar's name. He did, however, recall the name of the head friar. "Is Father Rahimat available?"

   "He was just retiring to his chamber for the night, but I shall retrieve him. Come, follow me." Ottad led Hakam into the old caravanserai. The courtyard was mostly empty but for a single friar drawing water from the central well. "You surely must have an important matter to be returning to us!" Ottad continued. "I pray that all is well with you and your companions."

   "It is presently," said Hakam, "but the last year has not been a restful one. I am here on behalf of another."

   "I see that you have 'upgraded' your flying carpet for a flying boat!"

   Hakam nodded. The spelljammer was hovering low to the ground a distance from the friary, waiting for Hakam's return. "My god has indeed shown us favor on our quest," said the cleric.

   Ottad led them up the stairs on the wall to the upper level. This was where all the simple rooms were, where the friars lived. An elderly woman passed them on the wall, carrying a basket of laundry. "Brother Hakam!" she said. "Ilmater blesses us with your presence."

   "And Anachtyr bless thee also, Sister...."

   "Jasmal," she completed for him.

   "Is Rahimat still awake, Sister Jasmal?" asked Ottad.

   The old woman nodded. Ottad continued leading them around the walls to the room above the chapel and then knocked on the old, wooden door. Rahimat's voice answered, asking for a moment, and then shortly the door opened. Father Rahimat was much younger than many of the other friars, though still older than Hakam. The Calishite man had a teardrop tattoo beside his right eye. He was no longer dressed in his clerical robes but was still wearing the red skullcap that signified his station.

   "Brother Hakam, is that you?"

   "It is. I apologize for disturbing you."

   "Think nothing of it. It has been almost a year. I see that you have progressed in your order."

   "I am no longer assigned to Memnon," said Hakam. "My god has sent me into the greater world as a justiciar."

   "I congratulate you!" said Rahimat. "Come in, come in. How can I be of service?"

   Ottad left them, and Hakam entered the small room. "My companions and I have an acquaintance suffering from a powerful magical curse. We believe that the only solution is for him to leave this plane. He is not a human; he is a being of fire. I would like to send him to the Plane of Fire until the duration of the curse ends, but I know little about the planes. I know that such magic requires a focus to send one to the desired location. We were nearby, so I thought to stop here first."

   "A being of fire? Have you made amends with that efreeti your companions fought outside our walls last year?"

   "Not the efreeti, no. He violates Anachtyr's holy laws and it is him we seek as the next stage of my divine quest. The one we wish to help is the dragon that assisted us in that fight last year. The dragon is our ally and has been our eyes and ears in this desert in the past year, while we have dealt with matters elsewhere. He has been watching over your friary all this time, in case the mummy or the efreeti were to return."

   "Yes, the mummy. Are you aware that she has been active again?"

   "The dragon has informed us of this, yes, but what more can you add?"

   "About a tenday ago, Brother Hamash was on a prayer walk near Dashadjen, when he saw from a great distance a small army of skeletons emerging from the sand and heading to the south. Some of them were much larger than human skeletons. We have kept a friar on lookout ever since, but the skeletons never returned."

   "This confirms what the dragon himself has told us," said Hakam, "but the fact that you have not seen them return is useful. Thank you for this."

   "Ah, but about your dragon friend, you must know that we are simple folk here at the friary and know little about other worlds — except perhaps about the Seven Heavens and the House of the Triad — much less how to travel there. Have you sought out your superiors in Memnon?"

   "That is where I planned to head next, but we have a limited time in regards to this curse, so I thought to stop here first. I should depart then. It was pleasant seeing you again, and thank you for the news about El Sadhara."


"I have heard the voice of a messenger in my mind, as I have remembered you in my prayers."

   "What did the voice reveal?"

   "It told me that you have been chosen as a justiciar, for a special purpose," said Mualak yn Kurush el Anachtyr. "It seems that I am no longer your superior."

   "You are still a man whose advice I covet, rafayam," said Hakam.

   "I thank you. I shall do my best not to disappoint. I admit that I was not surprised, considering our last conversation," Mualak continued. "What more have you learned of this Samber?"

   "Anachtyr has divinely revealed to me Samber's purposes and the urgency needed in stopping him."

   Hakam was now in Memnon, in Anachtyr's temple, the House of Justice. He proceeded to update Mualak further on the happenings in the months since Eleasis, when last he had sent word to the older priest. Finally, he explained the matter with Sseth and the dracorage curse.

   "A planar tuning fork?" said Mualak. "If you already have the power to use such an item, you have already surpassed all of us here in your former home, including myself. Anachtyr has truly favored you, young Hakam. You would have made Hamdulah proud."

   "Is Abbot Mohad still here?" asked Hakam. "I recall that he told many stories of the wonders of the House of the Triad."

   "Abbot Mohad is still with us. His tales were from supposed visions that he had; I am certain that he has never left this plane. Nevertheless, the planes of existence were of great interest to him. I shall summon him."

   A half hour later, Hakam was sitting with an older priest, who had been woken from his sleep. Though it was nearly midnight, the man had seen fit to dress in his blue and purple clerical vestments for this brief meeting.

   "This is what I know of tuning forks," said the white-haired cleric. "Both the material of the fork and the note to which the fork is tuned are important. I do not know all of the 'rules' of how it works, but I can tell you that upper planes usually require gold forks; lower planes usually require iron ones. The inner planes all require specific metals, and the paraelemental planes are alloys of those metals. As far as tuning, the forks tied to the quasielemental planes are usually tuned sharp for positive planes and flat for negative planes. I have no idea what notes are required, however.

   "Most folk assume that one can only reach the first layer of any outer plane, but I have heard a rumor that, if one uses multiple tuning forks, ringing in just the right harmonies, one can bypass the first layer and reach others. For example, a major chord might take one to a second layer; perhaps a minor chord could take you to the third."

   "Do you not know the material of a fork tuned to the Plane of Fire?" asked Hakam.

   "I would guess brass," said Mohad, "since the infamous City of Brass is located in the Plane of Fire."

   "But brass is an alloy, is it not?" said Hakam.

   "True, true, so no, that cannot be — maybe zinc or copper then. Let me tell you this: if you truly wish to journey to the Plane of Fire, it seems to me that the Kossuthans would be the most help to you. As you must know, the Temple to Kossuth here is in Efreet's Drudach. I once knew the Eternal Flame there, Konal al Zalath. We once adventured together in my younger days. He grew to be much more powerful than I and also more fanatical. We agreed on the importance of a lawful society for Calimshan, but he began to believe that only a purification by fire could correct the ails of our nation. When I first came to this House of Justice, he joined up with the Shrine of Kossuth here. It has since grown into a full-sized temple.

   "I shall write you a letter to the Eternal Flame there, requesting his assistance. Perhaps he will grant a favor for his old friend. I must caution you, however. I am told that the Kossuthans of Memnon seek to restore its namesake to power and bring about a Second Memnonnar. Be careful with your words."


Hakam found his way along the drudach walls to Coastal Road Sabban in the west. Efreet's Drudach was simple for him to find without the daytime crowds, and like the House of Justice, the temple to the Lord of Fire was located at the intersection of the drudach walls, so he never even had to dirty his feet with city dust. The temple was a ziggurat, clearly constructed of the same strange black stone as the ancient outer walls of the genie-built city. A red glow came from within.

   Hakam entered the temple with caution and was stopped immediately by a bald monk dressed in a thin orange tunic. The man was unarmed, but Hakam suspected that he was trained in combat and had no need of weapons to guard the temple.

   "What do you want, al Anachtyr?"

   "I come bearing a message for your Eternal Flame, sadidrif," said Hakam, holding the rolled up and sealed letter in his palm.

   "At this hour?" The man whistled, and two other temple guards came over. "Stay here," said the monk, taking the letter, "and I shall find out if the Eternal Flame will see you."

   The two guards watched him with arms crossed over their chests. Hakam ignored their intimidating stance and looked to the center of the temple from the second floor. The ziggurat was open in the center, its highest floor supported by a single massive column of black stone. About this column burned an enormous bonfire, which filled the whole temple with heat and light. Lit torches also covered the walls every yard or so. Hakam already found himself sweating from the heat of the place.

   The first monk returned. "This way," he said.

   Hakam followed him around a bend which led them back outside, where they ascended the steps on the outside of the temple up to its highest level. "Enter," said the guard.

   Hakam obeyed and entered the single room at the top of the temple, the chambers of the so-called Eternal Flame. The room was ornately decorated in Calishite fashion and was quite warm from the heat of the immense bonfire below them in the main temple chamber.

   "Greetings, fellow seeker of order," said the single man in the room with Hakam. "I am Konal al Kossuth." He gave a little bow in Calishite manner, and Hakam returned the custom. Konal was dressed in a robe of red, embroidered with a pattern of crimson flames. About his neck was a magically glowing holy symbol of a stylized flame. The man himself looked Calishite in features, with a long, pointed black beard, but his skin was a deep red color. Hakam guessed him to be a genasi, but he kept the thought to himself.

   "I have read the letter from my old friend, Mohad," said Konal. "He tells me that you are seeking a way to the Plane of Fire, though he did not explain why. He claims I owe him a favor.... I owe him nothing."

   "If you owe him nothing, perhaps I could purchase what I need from you instead," suggested Hakam.

   Konal chuckled. "I have no need anymore of a tuning fork to travel to the realm of the Firelord," said Konal, as he walked from Hakam over to an ivory set of drawers on the other side of the room. "This is Memnon, the capital of Memnonnar, a city that was once a city of efreet. Efreet need no tuning forks." He brushed aside a large lizard that was blocking one of the drawers and then opened it. "We Kossuthans of Memnon have discovered a portal in the ruins across the river, the Great Brass Gate, which Memnon himself used to ferry soldiers from his home plane to aid in the war against Calim. It still functions. I would rather arrive at a known location in the City of Brass than chance appearing in a pool of magma." He turned toward Hakam and tossed him something that he had removed from the drawer.

   Embarrassingly, Hakam failed to catch it; it tumbled to the floor and rang in a pure solid tone.

   "Slow reflexes for an adventurer," said Konal.

   "I am our party's healer, diviner, and judge," said Hakam, as he picked up the copper, two-pronged fork from the floor, "not our warrior."

   "Judge?" said Konal. "By what laws do you judge? The legal proceedings of you al Anychtyr are all a farce. You know as well as I that there is no law in Calimshan but for the word of whichever pasha holds the power."

   "There is a higher law," said Hakam, "and a strict cultural order is better than the alternative."

   "Yes," said Konal, "there is a higher law, and it shows this entire Caliphate is corrupt, is guilty. Do you not think that it is time for the purification of Calimshan? starting with the Syl-Pasha and working down the ranks until all of the chaff is burned away?"

   "To speak against the Syl-Pasha is traitorous," said Hakam.

   "Do you think that he came to power lawfully? The man is a murderer and a crime lord. How many sons does he have as puppet rulers in every city? A corrupt leader is no leader at all!"

   "Take no offense, but I did not disturb you to discuss politics or theology," said Hakam. "What do I owe you for this copper fork?"

   "You owe me nothing but to consider my words," said Konal. "Calimshan will one day pay for its sins."

   "I shall consider them," answered Hakam, "and I thank you for this gift. Shall I find my own way out?"

   "You will probably want one of these also, before you leave," said Konal. This time he reached over and handed the item to Hakam rather than tossing it. It was another fork, made of a cold metal. "This one is steel. You will need it if you ever wish to return to the Material Plane."

   Hakam thanked the Eternal Flame again and then departed from this very strange encounter. He returned to the western gate of the city and departed, then walked north over the fields to the banks of the Agis, where he had left the rowboat.


Szordrin and Solisar carefully walked through the museum of the brass dragon Sseth. Sseth, after talking to them both about happenings in the world for several hours in the the extradimensional space, had been happy to let them explore his library and "hall of historic atifacts." Having returned to the foyer with the nine Calishite columns, they stepped into a massive, high-ceiling hall that was large enough to be a noble's ballroom. Polished stone steps led to the floor of this large hall and also to a raised walkway large enough for a dragon to stroll that curved around the eastern wall. This wall was filled entirely with an enormous bookshelf. Strangely, the books themselves were sparse — no book was adjacent to another — and all of them were lying on their back covers. Solisar supposed that this was because it would be difficult for the dragon to remove one of the human-sized books from the shelves if they were packed together.

   Looking at the books, they did not seem to be tomes of magic or great historical epics; they seemed primarily to be popular works from different times. For example, there were several tourists' guidebooks to places that no longer existed, such as Jhaamdath, Valashar, or Meiritin, and a few copies of Intructions on Operating a Crossbow: A Guide for the Qysar's Soldiers and a few more of How to Dance Like a Jhasina: A Primer for Housewives. Mixed among these were several personal journals of persons of little to no historical significance. Sseth's library was the sort of place a historian of Calimshan would come to do primary research but not a place where a non-historian would come to learn.

   On the far side of the main chamber was another wide hall, the sides of which had on display many artifacts of long ago on marble podiums. These too were neither magical nor hugely signifcant artifacts in their own right; the hall was full rather of pots and pans, furniture, and everyday items.

   Szordrin, who had hoped to find information on the Rock of Bral was disappointed, but Solisar enjoyed seeing tools of human civilization from — in some cases — thousands of years ago.


   "We have returned!"

   "That is Hakam," said Solisar. "Hopefully he bears a tuning fork."

   It was the next morning, and Solisar and Szordrin, who had spent the night at Sseth's home, were once again conversing with him. In actuallity, Solisar and Sseth were the ones conversing — about languages — and Szordrin was studying his spellbook.

   Sseth poked his head out of the extradimensional space. "Were you successful, Hakam yn Hamdulah yn Hamdulah yn Hamdulah el Anachtyr yi Memnon? I must add that I do enjoy saying your name; it has a delightful rhythym to it as it rolls from patronym to theonym to toponym."

   "Yes, I was successful," answered the cleric. "I just completed my prayers to Anachtyr, and I am prepared. Whenever you are ready, I can send you to the Plane of Fire."

   "I am so excited!" said the dragon. "Is it obvious? I believe that I am ready. I wish that I could take along a book to read, but I do not think the pages will survive the environment. Give me room to hop down."

   Hakam and the others with him stepped back into the passage. The brass dragon then dropped out of the extradimensional space and landed on the cavern floor, shaking the ground.

   "Oh, already I feel the power of the curse," he said. "Send me quickly, if you can."

   "Do you know the name of any places there?"

   "Send me anywhere except the City of Brass, if you can control that," said Sseth.

   "I shall try." Hakam struck the forked copper rod against the wall and it began to ring.

   "Ah, a perfect A," said the dragon, "my favorite note." Sseth began humming the same note two octaves deeper.

   "Anachtyr send you to the Plane of Fire!" Hakam spoke boldly, waving his hands in a wide circle. Then he touched the dragon's thick-scaled arm, and just like that, Sseth was gone. The tuning fork instantly stopped sounding.

   "It looks like it worked," said Leokas.

   "Give me several minutes, and I can confirm that," said Hakam. He began praying silently while holding his holy symbol.

   Ten minutes later, he was ready to send Sseth a message. "Have you arrived safely? Please inform us of your status."

   "Yes, I have arrived in one piece. I appeared, quite fortuitously, atop a floating chunk of rock in a river of flowing magma and rode...," came Sseth's happy voice in Hakam's mind.

   "Sseth is healthy and safe," he told the others.