Next around the dome, an armored woman with the gently pointed ears of a half-elf swung an axe at a creature with the head and forequarters of the demons Albanon and Kri had fought at the tower, but its hind quarters were human legs encased in armor. In the background of that scene, a male dragonborn breathed fire over his own hand, but the fire coiled up and back on him.
In the next segment, an enormous mass of red spiders with crystalline shells swarmed around an elf female’s face screaming in pain. There was no sign or depiction of the rest of the elf, leaving it unclear whether she had already been consumed by the swarm or was perhaps transforming into it.
Directly opposite Sherinna stood an archway formed of scarlet crystal, with a lush green landscape visible through the arch, forming a stark contrast to the dark chamber around it. A human man stood before the arch, but his legs were twin columns of red liquid shot through with flecks of gold and veins of silver.
“That’s the Vast Gate,” Kri said. Albanon started-he hadn’t heard the priest approach, and thought he might have stopped off in the library or somewhere else in the tower.
“What’s that?” he asked. “What is this scene?”
“Well, you’re coming in at the end of the story,” Kri said, stroking his beard. “But I have told you the story before. That’s Sherinna, as you might have guessed.” Kri pointed at the beautiful, powerful eladrin, and Albanon nodded. “Next to her there is Brendis, a paladin of Pelor. And that”-he pointed across the dome, where a male tiefling lurked in the shadows near a human whose hand glittered with red crystal-”is Nowhere.”
“Nowhere? That was his name?”
“Yes. An expression of his alienation, I suppose. The three of them discovered a sinister cult operating in Nera.”
“When was this?”
“Two hundred years before the fall of Nerath.”
“So three centuries ago.”
“Yes. The cult leader was that man there.” Kri pointed at the legless human beside the arch. “Albric the Accursed.”
“Nu Alin,” Albanon said. “He’s in the middle of transforming into the demon.”
“Yes. He escaped the three heroes in Nera, but he left behind some writings that pointed to the ruins of Bael Turath as his next destination. Those writings also indicated that he was looking for something called the Living Gate.”
“Not the Vast Gate?”
“No. As I understand it, the Living Gate was a mysterious portal located somewhere in the depths of the Astral Sea. I believe it actually shattered during the Dawn War, and what the cultists sought was just a fragment of its substance. Which, perhaps coincidentally, took the form of a reddish crystal.”
“Perhaps not,” Albanon said.
“Indeed. Anyway, in Bael Turath, Sherinna and her companions met another pair of adventurers. Miri”-he pointed to the woman with the battleaxe-”and the Sword of the Gods.” This last hero was a fearsome man with pale skin and strange scarlet tattoos, holding a staff in one hand and an enormous sword in the other. A halo of divine light surrounded him, and the man he was facing recoiled in terror.
“The Sword of the Gods?”
“He was a cleric of Ioun, but he also seems to have been a figure of prophecy, something more than an ordinary divine servant. His origin is mysterious, and he did not survive this battle. But I am skipping ahead. Miri and the Sword of the Gods helped Sherinna and the others find the cultists, and they chased them through a portal leading to the abandoned dominion of Pandemonium, adrift in the Astral Sea. Which is here,” Kri said, gesturing to the scene depicted on the dome as a whole.
“And you said before that they were trying to break open a prison? To free some great evil?”
“Yes. They used a shard of the Living Gate to open this portal.” He pointed at the archway shown opposite Sherinna. “The Vast Gate, it was called-a doorway capable of reaching into many worlds and planes. They didn’t free the entity they sought to release, but they did manage to bring the Voidharrow through their gateway. And by the time Sherinna arrived on the scene, several of the cultists were already in the process of changing into demons.”
Albanon nodded, looking around at the variety of monstrous forms-all of which included some element of red crystal. “As the mural shows.”
“Yes. And as you can see, they engaged the demons in battle. What the mural doesn’t show is the outcome.”
Albanon nodded. “The cultists defeated, the Vast Gate closed. And the Sword of the Gods dead.”
“Although Nu Alin obviously survived the battle. At least one other cultist fled through the Vast Gate, and the Sword of the Gods was carried through it when he died. And Nowhere’s fate is not clear to me. Perhaps most relevant to our investigation, though, Sherinna brought back with her a sample of the Voidharrow, sealed in a vial.”
“Which the Order of Vigilance passed down until some of it ended up in Moorin’s tower.”
“Which the death knight stole,” Kri said. “And then Nu Alin followed him across the Nentir Vale to find it.”
Albanon rubbed his temples with his fingertips. “And Nu Alin, when he’s not possessing someone, looks like a living blob of the Voidharrow. So what is the Voidharrow? Where did it come from? Did it come through the Vast Gate, or was it awaiting the cultists when they arrived in Pandemonium?”
“Those are the questions we’re here to investigate. If answers exist, this is the place to find them.”
“Here or Pandemonium, I suppose.”
“Here at least we have the benefit of records, the fruits of Sherinna’s own research and experience. Of all the founding members of the order, she was the most scholarly.”
“Do you suppose that’s why the demons were here? How much does Vestapalk know about the Order of Vigilance?”
Kri scowled. “Nu Alin was present at its founding, in a way. We must assume that his knowledge far exceeds our own.”
Albanon stared up at the mural, his thoughts spinning. A few moments ago, he’d been so excited, eager to explore what the tower had to offer. Now he was confused and tired, confounded by the puzzle that lay before them and daunted by the prospect of trying to sort it out.
“I wonder,” he said slowly, “do you think we might spend some time just getting familiar with the tower? Hold off on plunging into research until we … I don’t know, until we know our way around a little better, maybe?”
Kri glowered. “While your friends fight the demons in our stead? While Vestapalk sends new minions to unearth whatever secrets this tower holds? While the abyssal plague spreads across the worlds? Of course! Take your time! Enjoy yourself.”
Albanon felt his face flush crimson, and he turned away from the old priest. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“Clearly. Remember our mission, Albanon. We have to understand our adversary if we are to defeat him. Shara and Uldane are depending on us.”
“I … I suppose I’ll visit the library now.”
Kri nodded, and Albanon slunk back down the stairs. He paused outside the doorway leading into the library and peered back up at the dome. Kri was still standing on the gallery, bony hands clenched around the thin railing, staring up at the depiction of the Vast Gate.
“Apprentice,” Splendid chirped.
“Hm,” Albanon answered, lost in a scroll in Sherinna’s library. It was a fascinating study of the magical principles underlying the use of fire, outlining the problems and techniques of fire magic in a way he’d never even begun to consider. The author of the treatise, according to a line at the top, had been Sherinna herself, and Albanon enjoyed imagining that she was teaching him. He wanted to try the techniques she was discussing, but didn’t want to stop reading long enough to leave the library and find someplace less … flammable.
“Apprentice!” the pseudodragon said again.
Annoyed, Albanon tore his attention from the scroll and scanned the library until he found the little drake
