Session 7

Heroes (lvl 4): Bastion, Thrum, Aibell, Percival, Yvaine, Emile

The heroes return to Sigil, carrying with them the weight of their deeds in Elysium—and the Gem of Harmony, now altered by their choice. The city receives them as it always does: indifferent, sprawling, alive with motion and intrigue.

Their first concern is practical.

The gem is far too valuable to keep, and far too dangerous to carry without purpose. They begin searching for a buyer, wandering the crowded stalls of the Grand Bazaar. Merchants eye the stone with interest, but it quickly becomes clear that none present can offer a price worthy of its true value. This is no ordinary trinket to be bartered beneath canvas and shouting voices.

They withdraw.

Back at Ubiquitous Wayfarer, they reconnect with Parisa, their bariaur guide. She listens, considers, and offers a solution. There are buyers in Sigil who deal in matters beyond coin and measure—members of the Trade Consortium. She can arrange a meeting with one such individual, though such dealings rarely come without strings attached.

That night, as the city hums beyond their walls, sleep brings no rest.

Each of them dreams.

A vast desert stretches beneath a crimson sun. A colossal, shimmering dragon coils around a towering ziggurat. In the distance, a pale, consuming light advances across the horizon, swallowing the world in silence.

They wake with the image burned into memory.

The next day, Parisa makes good on her word. The heroes are brought before Estavan, a powerful ogre-magi and high-ranking member of the Consortium. Wealth clings to him as surely as magic, and his interest in the gem is immediate. He agrees to purchase it for a fair price, one befitting its rarity and power.

But the transaction is not so simple.

Estavan has a request.

The details are provided by his associate, a dragonborn named Sharnak. The heroes note the medallion he wears—an ouroboros, a serpent devouring its own tail. A symbol of cycles, endings, and beginnings intertwined.

Sharnak speaks plainly.

There is a world called Athas. A dying world. A difficult world. On it walks a figure known only as The Wanderer.

The Consortium wants him found—and brought back.

No further explanation is offered.

The heroes accept.

They are led into the Lower Ward, into a fighting pit far removed from the polished dealings of the Bazaar. There, they are given a simple object: an obsidian arrowhead. A key.

A portal awaits.

Without ceremony, they step through.

The world changes instantly.

Heat crashes into them. Light blinds them. Sound engulfs them.

They stand in the center of a vast gladiatorial arena beneath a merciless crimson sun. Thousands roar from the stands. Dust and blood choke the air.

There is no time to think.

Across the sand, insectoid warriors surge forward—thri-kreen gladiators, their chitin glinting as they charge.

The crowd howls for violence.

And the heroes, newly arrived on Athas, are already fighting for their lives.