Session Five: The Rolling Hills

Outside the lair of Vorugal, the heroes have come to a terrifying realization. Either they were sent forward in time, or every hour here, in this timeless hellscape where the sun does not move, is the same as four years to the world they left behind. It was becoming clear that, perhaps, Emror had not been up-front with all the information, and they decided to investigate the mysterious lair known as ‘His’ Lair.

Along the way, they found large, somewhat clawed but booted footprints. The boots were once used by someone who regularly rode a creature (like a horse) and were very old but well cared for. And the tracks indicated someone had been fishing. As they neared the cavern maw, a handful of twig sprites saw them and scurried in, announcing their arrival.

Shortly there after, the most ancient, gender fluid, silver Dragonborn emerged. Going by the name Cembiten, they were at first cautious until they somewhat recognized the travelers. Stubby, for example, reminded them of a hero they’d once known: the very strange Vax’ildan. But it was Flora who won Cembiten over. They went to one knee and swore they would help her, “The One,” in any way they could.

Cembiten understood why it was hard to be trusted, and expressed their own frustration with both the inconsistent passing of time (something they implied stabilized only when Gelidon was there). They also admitted they were unsure of how they could prove they were trustworthy. Eventually, though, the group realized this blatant honesty, this paladin who said that the truth was never rude, was actually speaking from their heart. They were not lying.

As the group settled to discuss how the heck to get out, Cembiten confirmed that the theory for using the Threshold Crests to ‘escape’ could work, but there were things to be cautious of. First, Emror also needed their blood to power it, so it was unlikely they’d get out alive. Second, pushing two stones together could send them all to the Astral Plane, which was not as much fun as it sounded. Finally, Cembiten gave them the history of Ravinia that had been written, by Cembiten, including an explanation of Emror and his powers.

The green gem Emror had placed in his staff was powered by the everlasting soul of Flynn, a mad necromancer who was possibly pre-calamity. And it was Flynn’s powers that Cembiten (and Sark, the patron of Bob) feared greatly. All the zombies? Powered by Emror. He had, early in the civil war, been imprisoned in the mage tower he now called home. Near the end of the war, Cembiten and their allies had freed Emror, believing him to have been remorseful. Alas, Emror had bound himself to Flynn and slaughtered everyone. By luck alone, or perhaps his ancestors, Cembiten survived.

Speaking of ancestors, Flora’s spoke to her. They said Cembiten could be trusted and to show him the crest they had acquired. As soon as Flora drew it from the bag of holding, however, all time stopped. It froze for everyone except her and Cembiten, who told her that they would remain and protect her friends, but she was needed. She was “The One” who would save all Loxodon. And Flora found herself transported, alone, to the ice wilds of Eislecross, where the wooly Loxodon of the frigid north waited for her, and celebrated her arrival as their saviour.

The crest remained with the others, in Ravinia, and they were left with Cembiten who smiled and said “She is the one.”


  • Bob – Changling Warlock
  • Flora Zosna – A Loxodon paladin
  • Jeremiah Callows – Human Cleric
  • Stubby – Half-elf Artificer/Artillerist
  • Tāmarai Shikomi – Gnome Bard
  • Tunk – Bugbear Monk

This was Flora’s last session.