Session 40

Recap

• Wrapped up in Fjorynn and said your farewells
• Ambient coast, camping, glass
• The city of Oghma

Oghma

Oghma: The Shattered City of the Eldritch Tide

Nestled on the jagged cliffs where the verdant hills of the inland plateau meet the wild, endless expanse of the ocean, Oghma a city of thriving trade and unparalleled beauty. With its alabaster towers and sweeping white walls, the city seemed to gleam in the sunlight, reflecting the hopes and dreams of the people who called it home. The scent of saltwater and blooming lotus flowers filled the air, and the sound of merchants haggling in the bustling harbours mixed with the melodic chime of distant bells. Oghma was a place of knowledge and culture, famed for its grand libraries, its scholars, and its art.

The air is thick with an unnatural fog that shrouds the streets, bending the laws of nature to their will, as though the city is no longer governed by the rules of this world.

The city, once a beacon of civilization, now finds itself in chaos. Entire districts have been swallowed by strange, writhing tendrils of black mist, and the cries of the afflicted echo through the once-calm streets. The harbours, once filled with ships from distant lands, are now littered with the wreckage of boats and trade vessels, their crews either gone or transformed into mindless husks under the thrall of the portal’s horrors. The once-great Citadel of Knowledge, home to Oghma's most revered scholars, is now a twisted spire where madness reigns, its vast libraries defiled and consumed by writhing shadows.

Even the sea has turned against Oghma. Once a place where ships sailed freely, the waters are now plagued by strange tides and monstrous creatures that seem to emerge from the depths, their forms writhing with otherworldly energy. The winds howl with an eerie, unnatural force, and the sun barely touches the horizon, as if the very sky has been corrupted.

Oghma is dying, its foundations crumbling under the weight of a familiar evil.

Oghma stands on the precipice—its beauty shattered, its history consumed by horrors.

Varenkor

Varenkor, a city suspended in the eternal twilight. Nestled within the cold, oppressive fog of an otherworldly realm, Varenkor is a city that bears the scars of ancient horrors, where the line between life and death blurs in ways that are both beautiful and terrifying. Its towering spires and darkened stone buildings cast long, skeletal shadows over the cobblestone streets, winding through districts where the air is thick with an unsettling silence, broken only by the occasional distant howl or the whispers of the cursed souls that roam its haunted corners.

Varenkor is ruled by a mysterious and tyrannical entity, a dark lord who has sealed the city within an unbreakable barrier, trapping its citizens in a never-ending cycle of despair. The lord's influence seeps into the very fabric of the city, warping both the people and the land itself. Here, magic is twisted—potent yet dangerous, offering power at a terrible price.

The city’s inhabitants are an eclectic mix of lost souls, spectral apparitions, and corrupted creatures, each one bound to the city by a curse or a forgotten vow. Though some desperately seek escape, most have resigned themselves to the horror of their existence, clinging to fractured memories of a time before the city was consumed by the darkness. Throughout Varenkor, the people live in a constant state of dread, their daily lives filled with strange rituals and superstitions meant to ward off the forces that lurk in the shadows.

The city is divided into districts, each more terrifying than the last. The Gloomhollow is a district perpetually shrouded in fog, where the spirits of the deceased wander aimlessly. The Shattered Plaza, once a grand marketplace, now serves as a haunting reminder of a time before the city fell into ruin, with shattered statues and broken columns standing like silent sentinels. In the Twilight Keep, a foreboding fortress at the heart of the city, the dark lord holds court, his presence an unspoken terror felt by all.

At the edge of the city, the Cursed Waters lap against crumbling docks, their depths hiding unspeakable horrors—those brave enough to sail its cursed waters rarely return.

Time in Varenkor is fractured. Days seem to stretch on forever, but nightfall never truly comes. The sky above is an inky black expanse, swirling with crimson clouds, and the moon is an ever-present, blood-red orb that watches over the city with an unblinking gaze. In this realm, hope is a fleeting shadow, and those who dare to venture into its darkened streets must be prepared to confront not only the horrors that stalk the city but the twisted reflections of themselves that it forces them to face.

Varenkor is a city of dread, where every corner holds a secret, and every step deeper into its heart is a step into madness. To live here is to be bound in eternal torment, but those who are brave—or foolish—enough to seek its hidden truths might yet find a way to unravel the city’s curse. But beware, for in Varenkor, nothing is ever truly what it seems.

The general populous of this forsaken city seem to muttering incoherently to themselves, afraid of their own shadow or busying themselves with small rituals. If approached "yes yes, keep the darkness away. Shoo, shoo, be gone!

As the characters roam, they realise they are being followed.

Conflict is a 122 year old male tiefling monk. He has long, braided, brown hair and brown eyes and a short beard. He has rough, red skin.

He stands 175cm (5'8") tall and has an athletic build.

"You are not like the others here. Where did you come from?" He will insight check the party on their response. "This explains the chaos of the last day, things have felt.. busier. It's almost oppressive. But what you say, should not be possible. This place has been locked off for so very long.

Combat

The party are attacked by 2 x light devourer https://dr-eigenvalue.github.io/bestiary/creature/light-devourer.

Conflict will support, using Pax's statblock with darkvision

Nightmares

Keph - Hellfeathers

Djinn - You're in a forest, unfamiliar to you. Your hands are covered in blood. You look around, confused. Do you don't see whose blood this could be, or where this could have come from. You just see before you Jeremiah... scared, backing away from you before he turns and just runs.

Zannotah -

Elswyth - Melystra looks upon you, her radiant glow illuminating the space surrounding you both. Her gaze rests upon you and she makes eye contact you see that she looked panicked as she whispers softly "Flee my child, you are.. everyone is..in.." and before she can finish that sentence you see the cracks enveloping her form as the light fades and she begins to crumble before you.