The party comes to the bottom after what seems to be forever. The same handle is present to allow the cart to be pulled back up and as they turn they see the heart of tomb. Barely developed karumzek begin crawling along the floor and ceiling, harassing the party but causing no real damage. They split out of dozens and dozens webbed cocoons made of the skulls and rib cages of their victims. Bodies that have been dumped down here as sacrifice to Lamashtu cover any remains of what was once a unique wonder amongst the stars. Forged here, with the breath of Beral and blacksmithing traditions of the dwarves were weapons never seen by those of modern times. Broken and rip in twain is the last legacy of these ancient dwarves. The forge itself is sheathed in a thick glass cylinder. Made of stained glass, what was once the forge now houses a beating darkness. The glass mural once displayed the ancient gods these dwarves worshipped. With the beating darkness, over eons, the glass has become warped, displaying Saint Naris in place of those once worshipped. The glass begins to slowly spin and it’s movement combined with thumping darkness slowly drips the voice of the deceased villain in Draconic only:
“Your end meets you here adventurers. The majesty of my goddess Lamashtu and her daughter will spread onto the shores of the city above before the moon’s cycle ends. The end of my species in the flesh means just the beginning of their servitude to our queen! The abyssal swarm will rip the breath from your warm mouths and drink to beyond fill of your spilled blood. Lay down your arms and sorcery before me now, and I might find mercy within my queen’s heart to spare you a most tortoreous death!!!”
The heart of darkness throbs, await the answer of the gathered warriors.
“Then may your soul twist and tear against the majesty of my queen. Let the red rain of her daughter’s breath turn your city to ash! Know that today due to your ignorance, the age of Lamashtu has begun!!!”
The companions battle hordes of evil spawned from the heart of darkness. They beat back countless karumzek’s as well, each wave twisted with a new power given to them from generations of living within this tomb. As each wave of Saint Naris is defeated (undead that bleed through the glass, the history of Saint Naris as he rose to power) the glass surrounded the heart falters and the companions are able to inflict wounds directly upon it.
However, twice the heart pulls the glass back around it after an incredible explosion of necrotic revenge causing great calamity to the bodies and minds of the heroes.
Immediately after the defeat of the last wave, Dainholdt sacrifices himself to take full on the blast from the heart, his body and equipment vaporizing but absorbing much of the fall out.. The party wearily begins to exist the tomb, finding that Vaan and his wolf companion Raju are nowhere to be found, seemingly dragged off into Kurmugia. Unable to re-open whatever gate was given foul birth to steal away their friend, the heroes continue upwards through the Hallway of Bones using the mummified hands of Saint Naris to unlock the giant earth elemental scale.
The fiendish lantern wielder is nowhere to be seen! Dainholdt is his prey and the lantern wielder has left to seek his spirit elsewhere. As the party nears the entrance of the above ground tomb, the ground beneath heaves with a rotten lurch and they are expelled from the tomb entrance into a deep night, rolling with hot salted rains and green thunder. The taste and smell of acidic corrosion is heavy in the air as the shards of the grand stained glass sheets rise from the entrance of the tomb.
Unified as a tornado of undeath and pure evil around the talisman that gives it existence, the true form of Saint Naris entombs Pipsqueak and speaks to the companions:
“You were given a choice worm. I would have allowed you to pass from this life with a minimum of pain and suffering. Now that you have greatly displeased my goddess and forced me into your wretched city I will visit a multitude of horrors onto you and the soft underbelly of this city. I will scrape and tear at their veins until they burst and then bathe in the torrent of blood that spews from their wounds.”
The superheated and heavy wind that pours from the coast of the city spills against the graveyard, filling the lungs of all those present with salted humidity that carries an acidic hint. Saint Naris seems to be infused and empowered by it, an echoing drone of pleasure can be heard.
“The daughter of Lamashuta approaches…. her breath flows through the ocean’s winds. I will have to leave some of your city alive so that her hosts can feed and fuck when they arrive. Struggle more, as it makes your kind taste more sweet. ”
Saint Naris animated host begin to tear the Pipsqueak apart. The animated tombstones are shattered by a power channel energy and Aganon lands heavily next to the player; the shinning hot symbol of Saranea at his grasp. Above his hippogriff Razorwing erupts in a war cry above. Dropping from other smaller hippogriffs a small platoon of clerics drop amongst the party throwing sunlight spells as they land. Aganon declares:
“Saranea lends her disciples to defend Ziggarat’s people. Let us send this foul creation to meet his demise!”
The heroes then wage holy war against the ruler of the Cult of the Red Rain. His rampaging form is joined by mudlords spawned from the tengu graves surrounding the party, as well as undead abominations ejected from a Brood; a mass grave of orphaned and destitute tengu that had no family. Most of these mortals in life were of the foulest of the foul; child murderers and rapists. Employed by the Blackfinger cult, agents of Norgorber in the form of tengu also join the battle. Haloren recognizes one as the tengu he freed from Colonel Alexandria Hera’s custody and quickly takes off in pursuit of him. The 2nd, a dragon disciple cloaked in the power of the daughter of Lamashtu flings spells from afar and harasses the summons Eilora has drafted to even the battle.
In a final strike against Saint Naris, both Dante and Soul stand firm to defeat him. He calls on the daughter of Lamashtu, begging her for strength:
“Avenge your cult, daughter of Lamashtu, bring down doom and despair on the backs of these warm blooded beasts of burden. Curse you… Curse you bipedal spawn! You have stolen from me the chance to witness her arrival..Wait… I feel her presence …. Give me power to rend the flesh from their bones!!!”
The air around Saint Naris seems to glisten with a reddish hue and the acidic tinge of the air becomes nearly unbearable. In grand draconic, spoken from a lush feminine tongue, deep in tone. It’s frightful presence will strike the lowest level clerics and cause them to flee.
“Naris, you have served my lineage faithfully for centuries. Yet now, in your twilight years, you have allowed the mammals to breed and make an afront to our queen. Here is the last taste of power you’ll receive from me and it is only to serve as a warning to the warm bloods; when the moon cycle ends I will arrive at your city to demand every half elf within your walls and borders. Bring them to the shores of the city and the rest of you will be given reprieve. Witness your fate should you choose to ignore this demand”
A downspout forms above Saint Naris and pours into him the reddish tinting acidic air. The clouds above him move down heavily in the form of dragonkind, composed of blackened turmoil and the most terrible of nature’s wrath. The chest of the apparition inflates as the balls of electricity that form it’s eyes sweep across the party, taking time to note each one and seeming to scry deep within their souls. The maw cracks open, a zigzaging bolt of electricity creating sharpened teeth from the water vapors. The chest of the storm constricts suddenly and the consolidated acid ejects downward with hideous force. The speed of it’s breath shatters sound and air, causing the salt droplets of the storm to burst into tiny blasts of heated vapor. Saint Naris’s remaining cohesive warsworn body bloats and fills with the acidic breath, bulging and breaking like the dam of an overfilled lake. His serpentine shrieks of pain can be heard for miles as the acid disintegrates every bit of glass and stone it touches. A secondary spray will hit anything within 30’ of Naris for ¼ damage of black dragon wyrm. A brilliant fire rises up from the spot where Saint Naris met his end, ripping upwards through the storm cloud and dissolving the apparition. The orbs of lightning forming the eyes are the last thing to disappear, and close into the slits like that of a dragon, glaring at the talisman. The talisman remains after form of Saint Naris dissipates, slowly spinning and leviating a few feet off the ground.
Pipsqueak recovers the talisman, as it yearns only for her touch and becomes upset to anyone else. The effigy around the brood dies down but doesn’t dissipate completely. Aganon states he will stay with some other clerics to investigate.
The companions rest. Haloren brings the end of the slain tengu arcane thief to Hera and wins her companionship for dinner.