Rise of The Runelords Chapter 23: The End of Runeforge

The Companions, seeking the tools that could destroy the Runelords should they make good on their promise to rise and reconquer their old empire, found themselves in the depths of the planar laboratory known as the Runeforge. With danger around every turn, and with everyone they meet trying to kill them, the Companions go on the attack. There's no need to waste words when steel speaks truer.

For those who need to catch up:

- Chapter 1: Blood and Butterflies
- Chapter 2: Murder and Glass
- Chapter 3: The Sin Pit
- Chapter 4: Tussles in The Tangle
- Chapter 5: The Assault on Thistletop
- Chapter 6: Secrets Behind The Curtain
- Chapter 7: Murders At The Mill
- Chapter 8: Halflings and Ghouls
- Chapter 9: Fox in The Hen House
- Chapter 10: Something Rotten in Magnimar
- Chapter 11: The Crumbling Tower
- Chapter 12: Demonbane
- Chapter 13: Trouble at Turtleback Ferry
- Chapter 14: The Taking of Fort Rannick
- Chapter 15: Water Over The Dam
- Chapter 16: Mad Lovers, And Lost Captains
- Chapter 17: The March of The Giants
- Chapter 18: The Taking of Jorgenfist
- Chapter 19: The Secrets Beneath Sandpoint
- Chapter 20: At The Gates of The Runeforge
- Chapter 21: Storming The Halls of Evocation
- Chapter 22: The Bowels of Necromancy's Tomb

- Chapter 23: The End of Runeforge

- Chapter 24: Preparation For The Final Journey 

- Chapter 25: The Hunger in The Mountains 

- Chapter 26: The Gateway to Xin-Shalast

- Chapter 27: The Path of Temptation

- Chapter 28: The Three-Fold Challenge of Xin-Shalast

- Chapter 29: Crossing The Barrier of Greed

- Chapter 30: The Fall of Karzoug

 And now, onward, into the remainder of the Runeforge!

No Answers

Filled with a righteous fury from the battle with the lich, Zhakar led the companions back to the central chamber of the Runeforge. With several halls still to choose, they needed to push forward. Abjuration was seen as they next choice, the Companions hoping that whatever wizards they found waiting in there would protect themselves instead of lashing out.

Probably not, but it's nice to hope.

Instead of hostile wizards, what the Companions found in the halls of abjuration was... nothing. Nothing but walls covered in shadows that were once men and women, and a central spike in the floor emanating pulses of energy that sapped magic from the air. A great battle had happened there, and it appeared those wizards who specialized in defense had not been able to hold their own against the onslaught.

Unable to find any answers about how to make runeforged weapons, or where they came from, the Companions turned toward the other halls, hoping they would be more instructive.

No Parley

Enchantment was the next hallway the Companions chose, and they found a landscape dedicated to the extremes of lust. Cages sized for humans, the smell of bright incense, and a gaudy red tent like a silk brothel just offering invitation. Inside awaited the mistress of the halls, a succubus with a cruelly barbed whip in her hand, surrounded by cloying pink smoke, and several of her servants.

And what curiosities are these pretty things?

The succubus unleashed her magic, and it crashed against the rocks of Zhakar's mind, changing nothing. His eyes blazing, he let forth a battle cry that echoed through the tent, that same, bright fire filling his allies' eyes as he strode forth. Each of them filled with holy light, it was a collection of seconds before the demons were cut down. One succubus fell under Chikara's greatax, the steel slicing its flesh as if its infernal protections were no more than paper. The other broke beneath Bostwick's fists, bones shattering as if they were made of glass. The wizard, panicked, lashed out with her whip. Zhakar knocked it aside, and cut her down with a flurry of ripping, tearing cuts, his pick shattering her ribs before puncturing her skull, leaving her infernal beauty rent and ruined on the floor.

Illusion held no answers, either. Mirrors that summoned cursed dopplegangers of the Companions until they're shattered created a dangerous obstacle, and a small cadre of identical wizards put up some resistance, but it was all for naught. Behind a secret panel they found the desiccated corpse of the illusionist who once ruled the halls, along with hundreds of exact replicas of his body. His journal, the scribblings of a madman, provided a timeline as to how he'd slowly lost his mind in the isolation of the Runeforge, filling in some of the gaps of the battles between the apprentices.

It wasn't until the apprentice of conjuration was slain, his mind destroyed by a shouted word from Mirelinda before he was dispatched by Thok, that the Companions found something of use. The huge wizard's grimoire had notes on the research of the others, and on his theory regarding runeforged weapons. The central font could be used to mix the components together, different combinations from different schools leading to weapons more effective against certain schools of magic. Specifically the opposition schools. All they had to do was collect the final ingredients.

The halls of transmutation held huge constructs that fared poorly against Thok's ranseur, and Chikara's raw ferocity. The master of the halls was a transmuter whose arrogance was his undoing, unleashing fire and magic against Zhakar, only to find his own mind twisted away, and his steel body hammered into the dirt.

Kharzoug Awaits

Come... I await you in Zin Shalast.

 No sooner had the Companions arranged their ingredients, and Zordlan dipped his rapier in the pool, than the colossal statue of the Runelord Kharzoug came to life. The stony visage of the ancient transmuter stared down at those who had challenged him, frowning.

"You," it said, voice booming from somewhere far away. "You dare to challenge me? Come then, and seek me in Zin Shalast, if you dare!"

His threat delivered, the huge statue stepped down from its pillar, swinging its fists. Already honed by days of fighting through the Runeforge, the Companions scattered, each coming at it from a different angle. The massive statue flailed and thrashed, smashing blows against Zhakar's shield, kicking Chikara hard enough to crack her ribs, but it could not hold against the sheer, enraged fury at the pride and dismissive tone of the Runelord. The statue cracked, and crumbled, smashed to pieces that fell hard enough to shake the Runeforge itself.

With the tools in-hand, the Companions could see the final stretch of their quest. All that was left was to beard Kharzoug in his den, and to seek him in Zin Shalast itself.

Next Time on Table Talk!

With their runeforged weapons finally in-hand, the Companions have only one challenge left. But will they be able to defeat Kharzoug? Or will something else stop them from even reaching Zin Shalast? Find out on the next installment of Table Talk!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archives, as well as the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. Or, to check out books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife, head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter, as well as on Pinterest where I'm building all sorts of boards dedicated to my books, RPG supplements, and greatest hits. Lastly, to help support me and my work, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron! Even a little donation can have a big impact.

Rise of The Runelords Chapter 21: Storming The Halls of Evocation

Though the gates were guarded by a fell dragon, as well as ancient stone golems, the Companions found their way within the Runeforge. A place thought lost to myths and legends, containing some of the most brilliant and blasphemous works of arcane magic the world had ever seen. A place of danger, to be sure, but perhaps the one place they could find what they need to end the threat of Karzoug.

For those who haven't caught up on this adventure yet, check out the previous chapters below:

- Chapter 1: Blood and Butterflies
- Chapter 2: Murder and Glass
- Chapter 3: The Sin Pit
- Chapter 4: Tussles in The Tangle
- Chapter 5: The Assault on Thistletop
- Chapter 6: Secrets Behind The Curtain
- Chapter 7: Murders At The Mill
- Chapter 8: Halflings and Ghouls
- Chapter 9: Fox in The Hen House
- Chapter 10: Something Rotten in Magnimar
- Chapter 11: The Crumbling Tower
- Chapter 12: Demonbane
- Chapter 13: Trouble at Turtleback Ferry
- Chapter 14: The Taking of Fort Rannick
- Chapter 15: Water Over The Dam
- Chapter 16: Mad Lovers, And Lost Captains
- Chapter 17: The March of The Giants
- Chapter 18: The Taking of Jorgenfist
- Chapter 19: The Secrets Beneath Sandpoint
- Chapter 20: At The Gates of The Runeforge
- Chapter 21: Storming The Halls of Evocation
- Chapter 22: The Bowels of Necromancy's Tomb

- Chapter 23: The End of Runeforge

- Chapter 24: Preparation For The Final Journey 

- Chapter 25: The Hunger in The Mountains 

- Chapter 26: The Gateway to Xin-Shalast

- Chapter 27: The Path of Temptation

- Chapter 28: The Three-Fold Challenge of Xin-Shalast

- Chapter 29: Crossing The Barrier of Greed

- Chapter 30: The Fall of Karzoug

Now, into the depths of the Runeforge!

A Strange Place, Unseen in Centuries

Well we're here... now what?

Entering the Runeforge, the Companions found themselves in a large, central chamber. A strange fountain of prismatic energy flowed, casting lights onto the stone faces of the statues of the Runelords. Each stood before a hallway that appeared dedicated to their sin and magical school of choice. There were no indications as to where Runeforged weapons might lie, or even if there was anyone else in this ancient plane of existence, separate and apart from the material realm.

After some debate, and with nothing rushing toward them from the depths of the Runeforge to challenge their presence, the Companions decided the most likely place to find a weapon was in the section dedicated to evocation. So, arms at the ready, they headed off to see what they might find.

Storming The Halls of War

The first thing the Companions found, other than perfectly smooth halls, was a massive entryway with a huge statue atop a stone outcropping. It looked like some sort of construct, inactive for now, watching over the room. Bostwick was the first to step into the open space, triggering a blaring alarm, and making the sentry guardian shiver to life.

Well, it noticed us. Evasive maneuvers!

The golem turned, took aim, and fired, sending massive projectiles ripping through the air. Zhakar unfurled his wings, drawing the flametongue he'd taken from the dragon's hoard and blasting the sentry with a bolt of fire. The golem re-oriented its cannon, drawing a bead on the winged figure as Chikara loosed an arrow. The crackling shaft smashed into the golem, leaving it jittering and slow to fire. In attempting to defend Zhakar, she'd discovered the thing's weakness to electricity.

Bostwick rushed the plinth, scrambling up the wall and laying into the machine with hammer blows from his tiny fists, each one dancing with electrical sparks. Thok loosed one arrow after another, before Zhakar swooped down, clasped his friend's arm, and dropped him atop the outcropping where Thok could use his spear on the guardian. Drawing its fire from the air, the thing was quickly overwhelmed, and outmatched, unable to focus through the storm of blows. Whatever force powered it overheated, and it crumbled, it's legs buckling, and its arms clanging as they fell to the floor.

Though the chance for surprise was clearly gone, the Companions had no choice but to move forward... and to hope the other defenses were human rather than automated, so they could perhaps find a diplomatic solution to their situation.

Beyond the shattered hulk, they found a strange portal. Deciding there was no other way forward, they stepped through it. As before, Bostwick went first, which was fortunate as the formation of sorcerous soldiers who'd drawn up in firing formation loosed their spells at the first enemy to come through. Protected by his sheer resistance to magical energies, not a single projectile managed to land a blow against the small monk. As the others came through, and stared at the force arrayed against them, they knew that peace would not be an option.

They also saw that every, single wizard was the same man. Half a dozen of them, as alike as twins.

Well... this just got weird.

Moving in strange, silent tandem the evokers warded themselves, and slung spells at the Companions. Great balls of fire exploded, and missiles of raw force hammered at them. Illusions made the wizards nearly impossible to hit, with ghosts vanishing in whiffs of smoke as Thok's arrows and Chikara's ax passed through them. The wizards did not react to entreaties to stop fighting, and wouldn't even speak, simply hurling more magic at the Companions.

Enraged, Zhakar unleashed his hellfire, as well as his blinding beams of light, immolating several wizards, and blinding most of those who were left. Hacking through their remaining defenses, Chikara and Zordlan dispatched the rest, while Thok's arrows found their mark, leaving a field of bodies where previously there had been silent, deadly warriors.

Shock Troopers

Winded, and confused, the Companions looked around and found themselves in a barracks. The place where, supposedly, these wizards would have lived, worked, and trained. And despite the fact that the Runeforge made sleep and eating optional rather than required, there were beds that had been used, and carefully preserved rations stacked up and ready. As if these warriors had been preparing for something. And then, in a strange, alchemical array in the rear of the room, they found what looked like a cross between a cauldron, and some kind of birthing chamber.

Well, at least we know where they were coming from...

The Companions rested, staying vigilant, but taking care to keep an eye on the portals in, and out of the barracks. Once their strength returned, they continued on through the next portal, finding themselves in an even stranger place... a place that was one part armory, and one part arena. A curtain of flames stood against the left wall, burning silently. Unsure if they'd found a hold of Runeforged weapons, Zordlan examined the arms hanging on the wall. While they were clearly wrought by masters of their craft, there was nothing else unusual about them. Nothing strange or enchanted. They'd also been attached to the wall, rendering them little more than decoration.

That was when a challenge rang out from beyond the fires. An invitation to step into the arena, and to die with honor.

The Mistress of Evocation

Be careful what you wish for.

The Companions stepped through the fire, hoping they could reason with the woman who had challenged them. That there was some way they could explain what was going on, and end things peacefully. When they saw the red-haired warrior wreathed in flames, with a hulking, demonic slave standing ready to aid her, they knew there would be no way to halt her. Not without putting their own lives at great risk.

As the battle began, the wizard flew into the air, howling for blood as she sent streams of baleful light down toward the Companions. As her demonic minion began a buzzing intonation, Thok loosed an arrow, taking it in the throat. The creature's concentration broken, it failed to summon more of its brethren to join the fray. Chikara charged it, her ax holding its full attention. Zhakar rose to meet the mistress of the chamber, an inhuman battle cry bellowing from his throat as his eyes burned, and his wings flared. Mirelinda spoke the soft, dire words she'd only uttered a few times before, and the light of bright intelligence in the evoker's eyes went out. All that was left was a brute, animal hatred, and a desire for battle.

The battle was lost after that. The demon soon fell beneath the onslaught of blades and arrows carving its flesh, and with a final blow from his pick, Zhakar pierced the wizard's ribs, the spike ramming in beneath her arm, and puncturing her heart. As the body floated to the ground, something strange happened. The symbol on her forehead, which had blazed brightly, lifted from her brow. It streaked toward Zhakar, striking him just above his eyes. It burned there, a blazing symbol heating his steel skin red hot, making slag drip around the edges. It didn't hurt, though... quite the opposite. It pulsed with power, filling his blood with heat. A potent weapon the evoker had burned into herself, transferred on her death to the hand that had thrown her down.

What Next?

Shaken, and confused, the Companions realized they were no closer to getting what they came there for. Worse, if the evokers were anything to judge by, those in the Runeforge would be universally hostile, giving them no choice but to fight for every answer, and every foot of ground.

With half a dozen halls left to choose from, there was still a great deal more of the place to explore.

Next Time on Table Talk!

Will the Companions survive the horrors of the Runeforge? Will they find the weapons they seek, or is it all just a deadly trap? Find out on the next installment of Table Talk!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archives, as well as the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. Or, to check out books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife, head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter, as well as on Pinterest where I'm building all sorts of boards dedicated to my books, RPG supplements, and greatest hits. Lastly, to help support me and my work, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron! Even a little donation can have a big impact.

Rise of The Runelords Chapter 20: At The Gates of The Runeforge

With the buried poison beneath Sandpoint put back to rest, the Companions realized the clock is ticking faster than they'd hoped. One of the Runelords, at least, appeared hellbent on waking from his slumbers to unleash his magic upon the world. To stop a being of such power, they'll need the proper tools... but a runeforged weapon can only be found in one place. So they made their preparations, and set off to arm themselves for one, last battle.

To catch up on how we got here, check out:

- Chapter 1: Blood and Butterflies
- Chapter 2: Murder and Glass
- Chapter 3: The Sin Pit
- Chapter 4: Tussles in The Tangle
- Chapter 5: The Assault on Thistletop
- Chapter 6: Secrets Behind The Curtain
- Chapter 7: Murders At The Mill
- Chapter 8: Halflings and Ghouls
- Chapter 9: Fox in The Hen House
- Chapter 10: Something Rotten in Magnimar
- Chapter 11: The Crumbling Tower
- Chapter 12: Demonbane
- Chapter 13: Trouble at Turtleback Ferry
- Chapter 14: The Taking of Fort Rannick
- Chapter 15: Water Over The Dam
- Chapter 16: Mad Lovers, And Lost Captains
- Chapter 17: The March of The Giants
- Chapter 18: The Taking of Jorgenfist
- Chapter 19: The Secrets Beneath Sandpoint
- Chapter 20: At The Gates of The Runeforge
- Chapter 21: Storming The Halls of Evocation
- Chapter 22: The Bowels of Necromancy's Tomb

- Chapter 23: The End of Runeforge

- Chapter 24: Preparation For The Final Journey 

- Chapter 25: The Hunger in The Mountains 

- Chapter 26: The Gateway to Xin-Shalast

- Chapter 27: The Path of Temptation

- Chapter 28: The Three-Fold Challenge of Xin-Shalast

- Chapter 29: Crossing The Barrier of Greed

- Chapter 30: The Fall of Karzoug

And after all that, the Companions headed north again... into the crags of the forgotten mountains, looking for a place buried by time.

The Gateway To The Runeforge

Reading and re-reading the notes left by the Scribbler, the Companions begin to piece together the bizarre history and purpose of the place they seek. Like the Runelords themselves, the Runeforge appeared to have been created with something of a noble goal, when it was first founded. A place for arcane scholars to come and study, it was a place of magic and learning... and only those with the proper spells could enter it.

Fortunately, we brought some arcane experts with us.

The journey was arduous, and cold. The Companions didn't speak much, each focused on what lay ahead, and for some what roiled within them. Mirelinda read her cards every day, the fortunes only growing worse the closer they came. Danger, the cards said... but what form it would take they didn't so much as hint at.

When they finally found the gate, it seemed almost underwhelming. Ancient standing stones atop a plateau, each marked with runes and left filled with magic. Keys to the gateway that, if opened at the proper time, would show the way to the Runeforge... or so the made writings of the trapped Scribbler had said. Mirelinda and Zordlan examined them, prodding the stones with cantrips until they felt the eldritch mechanisms unlock. Rumbles in the stone as tumblers turned. One, then another, then another. It seemed that Runeforge wouldn't be as hard to get into as they'd feared... until a shadow fell over them, and a scream of fury split the air.

On Winter Wings

From the sky, frost hissing from its gaping maw, came a huge, white dragon. Fully grown and enraged, it swooped down on what it seemed sure was an easy meal. Thok's eyes went wide, and he dashed for cover to get away from its curving, raptor talons and piercing gaze. Bostwick skipped aside, spreading out so it couldn't get everyone. Zordlan swore, and Mirelinda ducked behind a standing stone. Even Chikara retreated a few steps, raising her bow.

Zhakar shrugged his cloak off his shoulders, and unfurled his wings. When the thing came down, he rose to meet it.

Well shit, they don't usually do THAT!

The dragon's breath raked the circle as the Companions dove aside, trying to return fire with spell and bow. Zhakar shook off the frost, and blasted a blinding beam into the dragon's eyes. It roared, eyes white and scaled from the burning light. It shook its head, listening for what it could no longer see. Shocking arrows thumped into its hide, and it roared. As Mirelinda prepared another spell, it dove, snatching her up and flying her high into the sky. It tossed her, and she spread her arms as the air slowed her descent. Confused, and angered, the dragon circled to within reach of Zhakar's pick once more. Instead of an easy meal, it found the steel digging straight through its scales, spilling its freezing blood onto the plateau below.

Crippled and wounded, angry and unable to conceive of how close to death it was, it was only a matter of time till the dragon came back to earth. Turning to meet the charge from above, it didn't expect the rest of the Companions to descend upon it. Chikara's ax bit deep, and Zordlan's blade punctured its underbelly. Hellfire bloomed, and it screamed as the black flames burned away what life remained in it.

Rimed, But Triumphant

Chilled and shaken, but very much alive, the Companions rested, healed, and then sought the dragon's lair to be certain it didn't have a mate. It didn't, but it had a hoard. Filled with treasures stolen over hundreds of years, ranging from potent magical weapons like a Flametongue, to enchanted armors and wands, the creature had been sitting on the very weapons that would have been ideal for slaying it. But it had no mate that they could see. Sorting the wheat from the hoard, the Companions began the ritual opening once more. They ascended the stairs to the top of the path at speed, thanks to Zhakar's wings, and despite the crumbling drops, found the gateway into the what they assumed to be the Runeforge. Guarded by two constructs, the gateway yawned before them... leading into dangers untold.

What was in the realm beyond?

Next Time on Table Talk!

Will the Companions survive the horrors of the Runeforge? Will they find the weapons they seek, or is it all just a deadly trap? Find out on the next installment of Table Talk!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archives, as well as the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. Or, to check out books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife, head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter, as well as on Pinterest where I'm building all sorts of boards dedicated to my books, RPG supplements, and greatest hits. Lastly, to help support me and my work, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron! Even a little donation can have a big impact.

Rise of The Runelords Chapter 19: The Secrets Beneath Sandpoint

Jorgenfist has fallen, and as the shamaness predicted, the fight went out of the assembled giants without Mokmurian present to stoke the fires of war. Cooler heads prevailed among the stone giants, who walked back into the mountains. With no strong hands to keep them in place, the ogres soon joined them. Jorgenfist was abandoned again, the treasure trove of knowledge and books preserved beneath it ripe for the cataloging.

But more issues awaited the Companions to the south... Sandpoint's secret was about to burst wide open!

Those who need to get caught up, the previous installments are here:

- Chapter 1: Blood and Butterflies
- Chapter 2: Murder and Glass
- Chapter 3: The Sin Pit
- Chapter 4: Tussles in The Tangle
- Chapter 5: The Assault on Thistletop
- Chapter 6: Secrets Behind The Curtain
- Chapter 7: Murders At The Mill
- Chapter 8: Halflings and Ghouls
- Chapter 9: Fox in The Hen House
- Chapter 10: Something Rotten in Magnimar
- Chapter 11: The Crumbling Tower
- Chapter 12: Demonbane
- Chapter 13: Trouble at Turtleback Ferry
- Chapter 14: The Taking of Fort Rannick
- Chapter 15: Water Over The Dam
- Chapter 16: Mad Lovers, And Lost Captains
- Chapter 17: The March of The Giants
- Chapter 18: The Taking of Jorgenfist
- Chapter 19: The Secrets Beneath Sandpoint
- Chapter 20: At The Gates of The Runeforge
- Chapter 21: Storming The Halls of Evocation
- Chapter 22: The Bowels of Necromancy's Tomb

- Chapter 23: The End of Runeforge

- Chapter 24: Preparation For The Final Journey 

- Chapter 25: The Hunger in The Mountains 

- Chapter 26: The Gateway to Xin-Shalast

- Chapter 27: The Path of Temptation

- Chapter 28: The Three-Fold Challenge of Xin-Shalast

- Chapter 29: Crossing The Barrier of Greed

- Chapter 30: The Fall of Karzoug

All caught up now? Lovely! Because back in Sandpoint...

What Was Buried Rises Once Again

When the goblin raids were first conducted on the town, Nualia was looking for something beneath Sandpoint. While she'd found some ruins left behind from the time of the Runelords, she had by no means found all of them. A quake in the earth had shifted the ruins, though, breaching a sealed entrance beneath the town. Strange smoke and the sounds of mad barking rose from the darkness the night before the Companions returned, and no sooner had they been spotted returning to Sandpoint than the sheriff immediately asked them to see what was down there.

Was this shit here last time?

Upon entering the opened chamber, the Companions found it filled with conjured smoke and vapor, making it difficult to see very far. But the walls were covered in script, all of it written in mostly forgotten tongues and by a particularly ancient hand. Scholarly writings that gave way to prophecy, which in turn spiraled into madness.

As Zordlan and Mirelinda attempted to make sense of the words, a booming voice echoed through the room. The madman who had been trapped beneath the earth for so long, seemingly alive and well. Even as Thok slid a set of enchanted goggles over his eyes they'd taken from Mokmurian, he saw no figure lurking within the room. Though he did see a colossal creature standing in the chamber beyond. Still enough to be a statue, it was filled with a raw, brute menace that said it was a trap just waiting for the Companions to put a foot wrong.

Before Thok could give a warning, one of them did.

Chikara howled in pain as an invisible blade slashed into her back. A figure in tattered black, with the wide eyes of a lunatic, grinned, and ducked back into the mist, laughing as he ran into the room. Before Thok could warn her not to, the furious half-orc was hot on her assailant's heels, bellowing threats about what she would do when she caught him.

As soon as she entered the chamber, though, the statue began to move.

Into The Pit, And Out of The Ashes

The demon had waited patiently, and as soon as it had a target it descended on Chikara with claws and fangs. A hulking beast with four arms and a maw the size of a cavern, the mad priest cackled as the denizen of the pit roared for blood.

Thok howled, firing arrows as fast as he could draw them. Zordlan ran forward, pulling his rapier and rushing into the fray to distract the beast. Mirelinda's cards began to shuffle in the air as she invoked names of the long-dead in preparation for a potent spell. Even Bostwick rushed forward, fearless as he tried to harry their foes. But Zhakar... Zhakar just stood there. For a moment he was transfixed by the demon, staring at it like a man who sees something he knows is unfamiliar to him, but which he's witnessed in countless dreams.

You see where this is going.

As he stared at the creature, a nimbus of light burned behind his eyes. The skin of his face flaked away, revealing shining, burnished steel. His right arm was rusted red, turning warped and thorny where it gripped his pick. As he stepped toward the thing, twin protrusions sprouted from his back, and a pair of huge wings burst forth. The one was feathered in purest white and silver, but the other was a dark, twisted thing; red and membranous like some infernal creature.

He rose into a charge, grim and silent as he streaked toward the target of his furies. The demon looked up from Chikara, raising an arm to bat Zhakar aside. He swung his pick, and when the weapon slammed into the demon's flesh, it did so with a blinding burst of light and a thunderclap. The raw power of that blow made the beast stumble, silencing the laughter from the madman who'd summoned it.

It was the turning of the tide. Chikara's ax bit deep into the demon's flesh, and Thok's arrows sank into its chest. Zhakar hammered it, driving blows with more than mortal sinew and fury. As the demon fell, its flesh melting into cinders and smoke, Zordlan leaped at the priest with his sword flashing. The two of them exchanged blows, but when the unholy man tried to flee he found Chikara's ax waiting for him, and it silenced his laughter forever.

What Fresh Hell is This?

As Zhakar fell back to earth, his wings pulling back into his body with painful, bone-crunching twists, he dropped to his knees, trying to breathe. The steel was quickly covered as fresh, soft flesh knit back over it, and the painful light left his gaze. Thok threw his cloak over his friend's shoulders, and patted him on the shoulder. The shaman's son knew that those who dealt with potent spirits were wearied afterward, so he said nothing.

The others cataloged the messages, trying to find what the priest had been protecting. Why he'd been down there, and what purpose he'd been about. What they found was that he had been trapped, and preserved with potent magics for centuries. That in his confinement he had written of the Runelords, their time in the world, and where they had gone with the great apocalypse had come to scour the earth. He spoke of a place past the Spine of The World, lost in the snows. Where aspirants might come to study and perfect their craft within the Runeforge.

A place of such potent power that weapons capable of slaying even a Runelord might be found.

Next Time on Table Talk!

Will the companions reach the Runeforge alive? What deadly threats await therein? Who will claim the Runeforged weapon to stand against the wrath of the awakening Karzoug?

Find out on the next installment of Table Talk!

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