Unexpected Allies

After venturing into the Shadow Realm to end the evil of Sallust the blackguard, the heroes of Helmsport faced an unexpected sight: the familiar village of Great Rock, transformed seemingly overnight into a very unfamiliar place. Where the humble shrine to Altius once stood, a great obsidian spike-topped tower now loomed above the town. Worse yet were the adornments of the tower: the unholy symbol of the dark god known as Seth, and the visage of the heroes’ boyhood friend, Seth McCullin.

The heroes couldn’t believe that the wayward son of Great Rock had come home to transform the village of his youth into a hellish dominion of darkness, but what other explanation could there be? Upon closer investigation, they realized that the sight before them had not been “their” Great Rock for many months—far longer than they had been in the Shadow Realm. And as they approached, they could tell that they were not viewing the village through a lens of shadow: This Great Rock actually existed on the Shadow Realm itself!

Beran and Duran felt compelled to learn more about this dark, twisted version of their home town. As the rest of the heroes recuperated from their foray into Shadowhold, the ranger and the cleric snuck into town, then inside the dark temple bearing their friend’s face.

Once within the temple, they soon learned that the clerics had captured some individual of importance and were questioning him in the dungeon below. As Beran distracted the guards, Duran slipped past and down the stairs. He soon found the torture chamber, empty except for a single prisoner strapped to a fiendish device. With a start, Duran recognized the unconscious figure as a hound archon—a dedicated servant of his god, Altius. As he worked to free the archon, it awoke and cried out, “Why does the Highfather send me visions of my failure to mock me?”

Duran assured the archon that he was no vision, but that they had no time to talk—the guards would return at any moment. The archon lapsed back into semiconsciousness, but not before taking the form of a guard dog, allowing Duran to carry him upstairs. Though the temple guards had quelled Beran’s distraction, the two heroes were able to flee the premises with the rescued prisoner.

When they rejoined their comrades, Duran revived the archon, who then returned to humanoid form. To everyone’s surprise, Alarion, Stannis, and Adarrial recognized the archon as Rexander, whom they had met visiting Ceridan, the celestial living as a hermit near Great Rock. Stranger still, Rexander immediately prostrated himself before the surprised cleric and begged forgiveness. “I know not why the Highfather has granted me a second chance to guard your life, but I vow that if you would accept my service once again, I shall not fail you or him a second time.”

After Duran managed to calm the archon, Rexander related how he had been assigned to protect the cleric, who he called the scion of the Highfather, from the evil forces that plotted his demise. But the archon had been cruelly tricked by Seth, the boyhood friend of Duran, who captured the cleric and sacrificed him to the dark god who shared his name. This tragedy had rendered Rexander a delirious wreck, barely able to fend for himself, making him easy prey for the disciples of the dark god. He couldn’t remember how long he had spent a prisoner beneath the temple, but had been certain that his days would end in darkness.

These answers spawned still more questions. Since none of the events described by Rexander were familiar to the characters, could this be their own futures they described? Or was this all some nightmarish dream, a twisted reflection of their reality? But there was no time to investigate now—the heroes had to hurry to Blackmere City to help the capital defend its walls from the hell-spawned army besieging it.

As they made their way across the gray, blurred landscape, the heroes encountered a group of shadow mastiffs that had surrounded a wounded dire wolf. The paladin Alarion, recognizing the unfair odds, charged to the wolf’s defense. With the aid of his companions, Alarion drove off the hounds, then tended the wolf’s injuries. As he did so, the paladin sensed an inner nobility to the creature. Though no words were exchanged, a special bond formed between the paladin and the wolf in those moments. When the adventurers once again took up their journey, the paladin did not go on foot; rather, he now rode a powerful steed: a shadow dire wolf which he named Agathon.

Thanks to the distance-warping nature of the Shadow Realm, a journey of weeks took mere days, and the heroes soon approached the vicinity of Blackmere City. But this was not a city under siege—it was a city in ruins, with goblinoids looting the dead and devils circling overhead like carrion birds. Once again, the heroes perceptions of time seemed out of joint. The last report of Blackmere City was barely a week old, and there was no suggestion that the city was likely to fall this soon. Was this their future that lay before them, or was some other deception at work?

Just then, Gree’s sharp eyes spotted a frightening figure standing on a nearby bluff, peering down at the city. Standing nearly seven feet tall, the blue-skinned goblinoid wore heavy, battle-scarred armor and carried a mighty sword at his belt. A pair of small devils fawned at his feet, indicating the goblinoid was someone of power and authority. Curious about this strange person, the little dragon followed him as he made his way back toward the Great Mere and into a small cave. Could this be the headquarters of the siege, the control center of the entire hellish army?

Meanwhile, the the heroes retreated to the cover of a patch of trees, where they encountered a trio of soldiers from Blackmere’s army. Though they seemed afraid of the paladin Alarion, Adarrial managed to coax a story out of them. Apparently, these men had been guarding the Great Cathedral of Altius ten days earlier when a great cataclysm had rocked the area. Within moments, goblins and devils streamed into the city, leaving the few remaining defenders no choice but to flee to the hills. One of them wondered aloud why the Inquisitor of Helmsport had come to Blackmere, pointing at the paladin. Upon further questioning, Adarrial learned that the Alarion known to these men was a ruthless fanatic who virtually ruled Helmsport with the help of his network of religious zealots.

The guards’ story all but confirmed the theory that the heroes were not looking upon their own world, but rather a warped reflection that existed more-or-less parallel to theirs. Though many elements were hauntingly familiar, this reality was not their own, and the fate that had befallen this city need not be repeated. With Gree’s discovery of the army’s likely headquarters, the heroes had even more reason to reach their own Blackmere City and deliver whatever assistance they could provide.

But how to breach the barrier between dimensions? There was no convenient thinning between worlds here, as there had been in Shadowhold. Or was there? The cataclysm described by the soldiers sounded severe—perhaps some remnant of the magical energies released there could provide an answer.

Once again resorting to subterfuge, the heroes (along with the terrified soldiers) slipped quietly into the ruined city and made their way to the cathedral. Even those with no allegiance to Altius couldn’t help but feel disgust at the sights within—walls covered in blood, entrails strewn about the pews, and holy relics and icons lying broken and defiled everywhere.

In the center of the Great Cathedral was a large crystalline sphere, cracked in two. Sensing the emanations of power that still suffused the vicinity, the heroes realized that this sphere must have been the magical device that warded the city against interplanar incursions. But what could have destroyed such a powerful artifact? A search of the broken sphere discovered a neat, round hole at the center of the crack, as if a chirurgeon’s scalpel had sliced a perfect circle in the top of the sphere. Clearly this damage had released whatever energy lay within the artifact, cleaving it in twain and devastating the area with the power that had been contained in it—and also allowing the devils to teleport into the city and summon still more allies from the pits of Hell itself.

The desperate heroes pieced together the remnants of the sphere, hoping that it still had enough power to pierce the barrier between the Shadow Realm and their own world. Eight heroes, a dragon, a hound archon, a shadow dire wolf, and three frightened soldiers gathered around the ruined artifact. They watched as Adarrial thrust his magic rapier, the blade glowing with the light of the sun itself, into the sphere. The artifact hungrily drank in the magical energy of the light and even the sword itself, but could not contain this power within its ruined form. Instead, it burst once again with a blinding white light, dazzling and stunning all who stood around it. The heroes felt a sudden lurch, as if tugged by a powerful force, and then…

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