27th of Eleasis of the year 1492
The Serpent in the Forge
The moment Ace crossed the threshold; the heat swallowed him whole. It clung to his lungs like smoke and pressed against his skin like a smothering cloak. Before he could even shout a warning, something stirred—an immense, coiling form that rose from the lava’s edge. A serpent of fire and stone lashed out at him, fangs like molten daggers driving into his side, followed by the crushing force of its tail.
Ace held his ground, sword drawn, shouting to draw its wrath. “Let it come for me!” he called back, trying to make himself the target so the others could strike true. The creature hissed and struck again, fire spilling from its jaws, engulfing half the chamber in a cone of blistering air.
From the rear, Angelica loosed a shot from her bow. Exhaustion dulled her hand, but her arrow still struck its mark. A second shot flew wide. Rayek summoned his spectral guardian, only to watch it wither in the overwhelming heat. He grunted, not in pain, but in bitter humor.
“If I die here, lower me into lava so you can let me down one more time.”
ISAC strode forward, his plating hissing against the heat, and unleashed a blast of force that cracked against the serpent’s side. Sparks scattered. Its scales cracked. Another blast followed, and this time the runes along ISAC’s arm pulsed with violent intensity—the serpent staggered, its body reeling as if pulled into a gravity well of pain.
Yllanys waited for the perfect shot. His arrow shimmered with planar ice. When he let it fly, it pierced through the serpent’s throat and burst with a sound like shattering glass. The creature hissed once more, then crumbled backward—its body slumping into the lava below, where it vanished with a hiss and a flash of steam.
Fire Beneath Every Step
There was no victory in the chamber, only relief. The heat continued to radiate from the floors, walls, even the air itself. Every breath was pain. Metal armor scorched the skin beneath it. The passage beyond the serpent’s lair promised no respite—only more searing wind and the acrid sting of poisoned air.
Angelica led the way again, forging ahead despite her weariness. The path narrowed along a crumbling stone bridge, lava spilling beneath and around them. With a running start, she hurled herself across a widening gap, landing in a crouch on the other side. Kliedd muttered under his breath as he approached the edge. “Too blasted hot in here.” He made the jump with gnomish stubbornness and a wild flail of limbs, then promptly ducked behind Seraphina.
ISAC followed next, leaping across with precision—but as each of them landed, the ground beneath their feet groaned, shifted, and occasionally gave way. At one point, Rayek nearly vanished into the lava below, but managed to throw himself sideways at the last second. Behind him, Yllanys was muttering again, testing every surface for instability as if reciting incantations to the stones themselves.
Seraphina took a breath, preparing to cross, but the air burned her throat. Coughing, she pushed forward, flames licking at her robe as she staggered across. Still, she made it.
The Chains that Wait
The next chamber seemed silent. Too silent. Ace pressed forward, tapping the floor ahead with his sword. The stone gave slightly but held. He moved forward step by step, scanning the shattered columns and scorched chains scattered across the room like shed skin.
Then, with a sudden clang and unnatural motion, the chains stirred. They twisted, jerked, and sprang to life with a sound like screaming metal.
Semi-Molten Chains
Yllanys shot first. One arrow struck, sending molten shards flying. Seraphina tried to strike with a planar shard but misjudged the proximity—her magic flared too early and blasted harmlessly into the floor. Ice and steel burst outward. “Sweet dreams are made of cheese,” someone muttered as another miscast spell bathed the group in accidental cold, though no one complained. For a moment, it was a blessing.
The chains lashed toward Ace, wrapping around his limbs. He grunted, planted his feet, and slashed through the iron coil with a roar. Another set of chains darted toward him—but ISAC was already in motion. His bolts of force cracked the metal apart, shattering it like kindling.
Rayek moved to the next one, swords flashing. Seraphina, still breathing heavily from the poisoned air, fired again, this time striking true. Kliedd slipped forward, cutting down one chain with a precise strike from his blade and then dashing toward the next sealed door without hesitation.
Behind them, more chains stirred.
Burned Air and Whispering Stone
Every door opened brought another wave of heat, another burst of poison-laced wind. The party had grown accustomed to it by now—accustomed, but not immune. Each time, someone would cough, falter, or drop to a knee.
And yet they pushed forward, step by agonizing step. Their boots ground ash and blackened stone underfoot. The further they descended into the spiral, the more they felt it—something at the center pulling everything inward. Not wind, not gravity, but something more primal. The heat flowed toward it. The sounds of the world bent around it.
The path dropped again—fifty feet lower than the last—into a vast chamber where lava flowed in a slow, deliberate pulse. Carvings lined the walls, distorted by the flickering light. The stone itself sagged under the weight of age and pressure.
Kliedd was the first to spot it: a faintly pulsing vial, just on the edge of a lava flow. The door nearby squeaked. It was too quiet, too still, too strange.
ISAC, standing nearby, whispered what they had all begun to suspect.
“The center is pulling everything toward it.”
And so, they moved forward, toward the spiral’s heart, where the heat grew sharper, the light turned cruel, and something beneath the stone began to stir.
The Battle Begins
It started without warning. A pillar of flame erupted among Seraphina, Angelica, Yllanys, and Rayek—searing them in an instant, the fire lashing outward like a beast loosed from its leash. As the inferno subsided, everyone knew: they were not alone.
The battle for the fire portal had begun.
Fire Portal
Ace charged ahead, tossing a burst of faerie fire across the far side of the chamber. The glittering motes revealed nothing—but that didn’t stop him from hurtling across the blackened stone, hoping to draw the enemy’s attention. Kliedd responded by casting silence in the same direction, a bubble of unnatural stillness smothering the space where the unseen caster might be hiding.
Seraphina’s eyes flared with magic as she invoked see invisibility. She narrowed her gaze southeast of the portal. “He’s there,”she announced. “Ten feet out.”
Fire Priest
The duel of sight and silence had begun.
A Phantom Duel
Attacks flew into empty space. Rayek fired arrows blindly. Angelica soared overhead, breathing thunder down into the scorched ground. The invisible enemy answered with fire and steel. A bolt struck Rayek from the shadows. An unstable magical detonation ripped through Seraphina, nearly knocking her unconscious.
Still, the group persisted. Yllanys, drawing upon his skin-bound magic, hurled icy spells across the battlefield. Kliedd used a mage hand to poke at the air, hoping to make contact. Cleave circled the edges unseen, casting invisibility on himself while moving through the smoke and flame. Ace pressed forward with relentless determination, drawing enemy fire away from the others as best he could.
Eventually, the attacker was revealed—just long enough for Seraphina to strike.
Lightning and Lava
The lightning bolt erupted from her hand like judgment incarnate, searing across the molten air. It struck the invisible spellcaster squarely, revealing him for a moment—then toppling him into the lava below. The fire cultist disappeared beneath the surface with a hiss and a howl, and for a fleeting instant, it seemed the chamber might fall still.
But the serpents had waited long enough.
Two inferno serpents burst from the lava, mouths wide with flame and fury. They struck without hesitation—biting, coiling, lashing with tails like flaming hammers. One sank its fangs into Ace, another snapped at Angelica, whose lifeless body tumbled toward the lava…
Inferno Serpents
…only for her ring to shimmer with divine energy. She caught herself in midair, clinging to life with a single breath, and flew back toward the hallway.
The Portal’s Final Resistance
While chaos reigned on the battlefield, ISAC moved with purpose. Fire scorched his metal frame. His plating hissed. Exhaustion gnawed at him. But still, he advanced, one step at a time, toward the swirling portal.
It pushed back. Not with force, but with will.
Each step was harder than the last—space bent around the vortex, its energy distorting the very air. Dimension magic faltered near it. Misty steps veered off course. Even his attempt to dimension door onto the portal was thwarted, slamming him against the cavern wall.
Still, he stood. Bruised. Burned. Undeterred.
The Statue and the Seal
At last, the moment came. ISAC held the ancient statue aloft; the one tied to the closing of the fire portals. He stepped onto the scorched stone, pressed the statue forward—and the portal responded.
The vortex buckled.
In a flash, all the runes along the walls ignited. The ceiling shimmered like the surface of a sun. Every line of script flared white-hot, the walls themselves pulsing as if alive with final, furious breath.
Then the portal collapsed inward, vanishing in a rush of air and force and silence.
It was done.
The Fire Fights Back
But the forge was not finished.
In fury, the serpents redoubled their assault. Ace moved to protect ISAC, slashing at the beasts with every ounce of strength he had. Cleave fired arrow after arrow from behind cover. Seraphina hurled lightning and ice. Even Rayek, singed and weary, continued to harass the serpents with arrows and snark.
Eventually, the tide turned.
As the last serpent fell with a thunderous hiss into the lava, the chamber fell still. The runes dimmed. The air, though still hot, no longer tried to choke the life from their lungs.
The fire portal was closed.
A Silence After Flame
There was no celebration. No cheer. Just the sound of steam, the ache of wounds, and the breathless stillness of a place that had known too much.
They had made it.
Just barely.
The foes were slain, the portal sealed—and the moment it was done, the group didn’t wait. With smoke still curling from their clothes and burns fresh on their skin, they turned and ran. Up the cracked and blistered stairs, they climbed, lungs heaving against the poisoned air, legs shaking from battle and exhaustion.
After fifty feet of desperate ascent, the oppressive heat finally began to ease. The air remained heavy but no longer felt like it was trying to kill them. Stone no longer glowed beneath their feet. Here, at last, was something close to safety—just a moment’s breath beyond the reach of the flame.
There were no deeper depths. The drow temple had been the bottom. From here, the only path left was up.
And here is where the session ended.
Maps
