Session 38, Arc IV

Mutiny

Played 26 September 2026

The party stirred awake in a sheltered nook of a cave on the northeastern shore of Droshdech, the howling storm outside having softened to a dreary, persistent rain. The weight of recent loss hung heavy over them — their beloved companion Bones had sacrificed himself by breaking his magical staff inside the body of a colossal Kraken, killing the beast and himself in a single, devastating act of heroism. What remained of him now sat in a jar, and the blue orb they had carried was gone forever to the ocean depths, lost when Yomidrogo had dived after it only to be turned back by a pair of enormous eyes staring up at him from the darkness below. The purple orb, at least, was still safe.

With Ravikiel and a handful of his surviving crew sheltering alongside them, the party turned their minds to the grim task of bringing Bones back. Two leads emerged from the discussion — Ravikiel claimed he had connections on his home island who had dealt in matters adjacent to resurrection, while Cyrran spoke of a powerful figure rumoured to dwell in the mountains northeast of Arakcadia. Yomidrogo recalled stories of Mjovadalr, a town of dragonborn nestled high in the mountains, known as a place of spiritual healing and enlightenment, though the details were hazy at best. The group debated their options, weighing the risks of trusting Ravikiel's dodgy connections against the uncertainty of a mysterious northern lead.

Ravikiel led them along the rainy coastline toward a teleportation circle he claimed was hidden nearby, promising it could carry them instantly to his island. As they walked, a sharp-eyed party member squinted into the distance and spotted a large shape washed up on the shore — their own ship, lopsided and beached, its back section torn away but its hull mostly intact. They rushed to investigate, climbing inside the damaged vessel to find a small cluster of surviving crew members huddled at the back, soaked and shaken. Among them was Curly, lying unconscious on the planks with a blackened, infected stab wound to his chest. A healing touch brought the colour back to his cheeks and roused him from his stupor, and the crew began to piece together what had happened during the storm.

It was Zylbella, the halfling woman sheltering in the hold, who delivered the most startling news. She pulled Yomidrogo aside and whispered that Garrick — long thought dead — had reportedly been seen alive in the forest by travellers passing through. She also warned the party about a man named Cumin who had come through asking questions about them before heading north toward a place called Kaxia. The party absorbed this flood of information, logging their priorities — resurrect Bones, recover the lost orb if possible, deliver their cargo, and track down Cumin — before turning their attention to the two juvenile rocs waiting patiently on the shore.

Yomidrogo crouched down and spoke earnestly to the larger roc, Brad, telling him and his companion Campbell to stay with the crew, keep watch, and — most importantly — not eat anyone. The rocs were left behind with the surviving crew as the party continued on toward the teleportation circle, following Ravikiel into the forest until they arrived at a stony cliff face where faint runes were carved into the earth. Yomidrogo channelled magic into the circle, but the runes absorbed the energy and went dark — the circle was broken, its connection to the destination severed. One rune had a gap in it, and it became clear the circle was no longer linked to anything on the other end.

Ravikiel was visibly shaken, having been away from his island for over a hundred days with no way of knowing what had happened there. Undeterred, Yomidrogo produced a vial of rare ink and carefully traced the broken rune, then used a burst of fire to sear the correction permanently into the earth. The makeshift repair tapped into a faint, branching ley line, and the circle flickered to life for just a few precious seconds. Without hesitation, Yomidrogo shoved Ravikiel through the shimmering gateway and leapt in after him, the rest of the party tumbling in behind before the portal snapped shut.

What followed was a disorienting plunge through a surreal transit plane where space warped like liquid and the world stretched and contracted all at once. Glowing ley lines branched in every direction like a vast spiderweb, and Yomidrogo steered the group straight down the middle at a three-way fork. But Ravikiel, confused and panicked, began dragging Arraphesu toward a broken branch of the network, and a desperate struggle broke out mid-transit. Arraphesu grappled Ravikiel while Yomidrogo hauled them back toward the correct path — but the effort destabilised his magic, and a wild surge of chaotic energy erupted around them. A deafening thunderclap tore through the stream, blasting the party out of the ley lines entirely and scattering them across the continent as the colours faded to nothing.

Yomidrogo hit the ground hard and felt the cold before he saw it — deep, biting, relentless cold, and all around him, snow. He had never seen snow in his life, and even in his dazed state, he found himself marvelling at it. Kailyn landed nearby, face down in the white, and the two helped each other to their feet, scanning the vast plateau they had landed on. Thousands of feet below them, Arakcadia Lake glimmered in the distance, and the Mediata Savannah stretched out like a painting. They were on Dalthos' Peak, deep in the Itumue Mountains — far, far from where they had intended to go.

Looking down from the plateau, they spotted two figures on a rocky ledge below — Arraphesu and Cyrran, clinging to the sheer cliff face. Yomidrogo swooped down on his broom, and when Cyrran began to lose his grip, Yomidrogo acted quickly, channelling a powerful transformation that turned Cyrran into a giant eagle. The great bird took to the air instinctively, and the group regrouped on a flat ridge, shaken but alive. Ravikiel and Rupert, however, were nowhere to be found. Kailyn retrieved a borrowed crystal ball and sank into a long, meditative ritual, her senses carried across the land until a vision formed — Rupert and Ravikiel walking through a northern forest, alive, discussing how to find the others. She returned to consciousness and relayed the news with relief.

It was Yomidrogo, still aloft on his broom, who spotted the small hut on a neighbouring peak — a rickety shack with smoke curling from its chimney. The party flew across and landed before it, peering through a heavily frosted window to make out a humanoid shape within. They knocked, found the door unlocked, and stepped inside. The hut was cramped and dusty, its walls plastered with hand-drawn maps and rows upon rows of tally marks carved into the wood. In a rocking chair sat an elderly bearded woman, counting softly in her sleep.

When she was roused, she introduced herself as Lafaelyn — a legendary dwarf climber who had spent roughly fifty years in isolation on the peak, waiting for her partner Bren to return from an expedition. Her hands were horrifically frostbitten, nearly all her fingers lost to the cold, and she walked on a stump leg. She spoke warmly of a hidden mountain village she and Bren had once been rescued by, led by a figure named Merker, and offered to guide the party there. But something was deeply wrong. Cyrran slipped outside and found two pairs of skis — one neatly stacked, one fallen and neglected — and the kitchen inside had not been touched in years. Yomidrogo, disguising himself as Bren through illusion, found that Lafaelyn accepted the deception without question, calling him honey and speaking to him as though no time had passed.

Before the party could act on their suspicions, Lafaelyn turned the tables. She wove a powerful enchantment over the group, and several members found themselves suddenly, inexplicably convinced that climbing further up the freezing mountain to find the hidden village was an excellent idea. Kailyn, immune to the magic, watched in dismay as her companions began enthusiastically preparing for the ascent. Lafaelyn tied herself to the flying broom, and the charmed party took to the skies — until Cyrran, still clear-headed, made a sharp banking manoeuvre and deliberately dropped Yomidrogo from a height, the impact snapping him out of the enchantment. The charm broken for some, the party turned on Lafaelyn mid-flight.

A chaotic battle erupted in the freezing heights of the Itumue Mountains. Lafaelyn fought back with terrifying ferocity, calling down pillars of divine fire and attempting to freeze her attackers in place. She used a cunning magical trick to redirect incoming spells onto Arraphesu, and the fight raged across the snow as fire and thunder clashed against the howling mountain wind. Kailyn summoned a blade of pure flame and pressed the attack, Cyrran fired a precise shot and demanded she stand down, and Yomidrogo unleashed explosive bursts of fire from his staff. Finally, Arraphesu delivered a rapid, decisive flurry of blows that knocked Lafaelyn unconscious into the snow.

With Lafaelyn subdued, Yomidrogo pressed his mind against hers and witnessed a horrific memory — Lafaelyn walking calmly toward her partner in a cave, a massive orange eye blazing in the sky behind her, and then striking him down with a rock. The same eye Yomidrogo had seen in his dream after Bones died. The party searched her belongings and found five ancient platinum coins from the old Zilaphelian Kingdom, and — disturbingly — a deck of illusions that had once belonged to Cumin. The party debated what to do with her, and ultimately made the grim decision to end her suffering. They buried her and her partner together near a large boulder on the peak she had spent her life trying to conquer, leaving them side by side in the snow.

The party retreated to the hut to rest, setting watches through the long, stormy night. Kailyn used the crystal ball once more, this time catching a vision of Cyrran navigating their ship away from the islands with the rocs flying alongside — a reassuring sight. But during the night watch, a party member heard a crunching sound in the snow behind the hut and went to investigate. The grave they had dug was empty. The rock had been moved, and footprints led away into the dark mountains. Shaken and unwilling to linger a moment longer, the party gathered their things. Yomidrogo hastily inscribed a new teleportation circle in chalk on the floor, aiming for a familiar town near his old home, and one by one they leapt through — leaving the frozen peak and its unsettling secrets behind.