The Edgelords had seen this place before, and recently at that. The pouring rain and mask of darkness did little to disguise the confinements of the arena. It had been their first stop on Athas, the current leg of a long and demanding journey that had begun on the plane of Sigil months earlier. In the time since, Party members had come and gone, portals had been traversed, dragons had been slain, and secrets both ancient and deadly had left their mark on the battle-worn band of travelers. Now, however, once again contained within the Athas Arena walls, the party’s current iteration of six feared there would be no rest for the weary.
They had returned here through a dimensional door, opened by Lord Shingrin Serpenthelm and Exia Briarwood—along with their escort of cloak-adorned, tentacle-limbed Star Spawn. Only one among the party—a human battle-mage name Gren—had made an effort to clash with Shingrin, Exia, and their heralds of doom. Gren's personal hatred for the Briarwoods and his knowledge of Exia's responsibility in Vecna's summoning led to his outburst. The effort proved foolhardy, however, as Shingrin opened the dimensional door above the Party before Grin could advance his attack.
“Everyone get in,” Shingrin ordered.
A brief hesitation brought a wave of searing pain to several Party members. There was then no unruliness or rebellion as Exia and the Star Spawn ushered each of them up into Shingrin’s door.
Now, gathered in the bleak and familiar arena, the Party realized Lord Shingrin had followed along--without Exia or the troupe of Spawn. Shingrin materialized in the gloom before them, as if the rain itself had conjured his form. Without pause, he then offered the group an unexpected choice.
“You may now rest…or venture forth into the arena.”
As the Party consulted with one another, Gren grew restless and voiced his frustration. At this open expression of defiance, Lord Shingrin raised his arms and summoned a hail of lightning down on Gren. As the battle-mage writhed in the pain, the bolts of electricity expanded in the rain, inflicting splash damage on several other Party members. At that, the group quickly decided to retreat to the Arena barracks for a long rest. It seemed that Shingrin’s will would—for now—continue to dictate the progression of the Party’s journey.
Once settled in the Arena barracks, Taeomillion, the lone Dark Elf of the Party, offered to keep watch as the others rested. After several hours, though, sleep also overcame Taeo. With no Watch, no one was able to warn Taeo before an unidentified rat-like creature crawled beside him and bit his leg.
At the opposite end of the barracks, Rune, a human monk that required no sleep, was having problems of her own. A rustling from the Arena grounds drew her from her deep meditation. Peering through a broken slat in the barracks wall, she saw something massive rustle through thick vegetation in the distance. Before she could speculate, a feeling on her right wrist caught her attention. She looked down and was disturbed to see an imp grasping her treasured wristwrap.
Rune was able to grab the imp and retrieve the wrap, but in her struggle the rest of the party awoke from their slumber. As if the outburst had not served as an effective-enough wake-up-call, a wave of explosions from the Arena shook the barracks, sending sheets of dust and dirt particles raining from the ceiling.
A shriek from the imp drew the full attention of the party, and Eric the Cleric, the party’s lone Wood Elf, was the first to move in on it. With a graceful swipe, the Cleric slapped a pair of sturdy shackles on the tiny fiend, rendering it motionless. In a burst of rage, the imp shrieked again and then issued a whispered threat in its native infernal tongue: “Orcus will be quite displeased.”
Gorgeous George, an Aasimar paladin who was the sole party member to speak infernal, immediately approached the imp. A brief interrogation revealed that the imp was looking for a wand.
Suddenly another imp appeared and rushed to aid its shackled companion. Gren was too fast for the new arrival, though, and a quick strike by the battle-mage cut the imp’s tail clean off. The fiend let out a pained screech and it vanished. Just as it disappeared, though, a trio of more imps appeared around the shackled one.
As one of these newcomers hastily worked to free the trapped one, the other two rushed at the party, their claws and short fangs bared. Instead of engaging, the party made for the exit, seeing no point in expending energy disposing of the imps. Eric the Cleric was somehow able to grab the trapped imp by the shackles and rush out of the barracks without suffering any additional damage. The fiends chose not to follow the party out to the arena, and Eric’s captive one seemed to calm down once he realized his struggles were futile.
The Party could not be sure if it was now day or night, as the environment of the arena, including the sky, was in a state of perpetual change. In the space before them tiny orbs were floating around, seemingly causing the constant growth and change of vegetation in the arena.
As Rune studied the orbs, the progression seemed to begin and end where a small creature was standing several dozen yards away.
No, not some creature, Rune thought. A gnome.
And not just any gnome at that. As she looked closer, Rune realized she looking the face of father figure, Corin. For just a few seconds, Rune locked eyes with him. There was recognition in his gaze, but there was no look of glad tidings in his expression.
In the next instant, the gnome drew in all but one of the orbs and scampered off. The lone orb left behind abruptly began forming a thick wall of trees that wrapped around the Arena’s perimeter. With every inch, the wall gained height and density. More trees and brush sprung up in the inner part of the enclosure. Soon a full canopy of branches and leaves loomed overhead. Among the vegetation as altar arose in the clearing at the arena’s center. In another direction a pond was visible, its water calm and still. Near the area of wall to the party’s right an old oak tree towered above. Far in the distance, past the pond, a dilapidated building resembling a trade outpost hid in the shadows. A strange word unknown to the travelers was inscribed in its stonework.
The Party then branched out and frolicked around the Arena, enjoying the newly sun-lit skies overhead and surveying the array of plants and animals littering the landscape. As Gorgeous George approached the pond and proceeded to trawl for fish in its shallow water, he felt a sharp pain in his left ring finger. As he pulled his hands back, a baby dragon turtle surfaced in the water before him. Before George could make another move, Gren rushed to the shallow pond and cast Find Familiar on the tiny dragon turtle, designating it as his new pet. He then named it Violence, The Terror of the Depths.
As George recovered from the bite and pondered strategies by which he might claim Gren’s new pet for himself, a vision overcame him: bloody talons grabbing and slashing, hands dripping with blood, falling feathers, and finally a withered hand holding an eye. The vision passed on as quick as it began, and George snapped back to reality with the rest of the Party staring upon him in awe. It was the first time the group had seen the Aasimar in his celestial form.
After some time, the peaceful setting of the Arena was interrupted by the emergence of Lord Shingrin at the central altar. As the Party observed, Shingrin noticed Violence dawdling behind Gren. Knowing what was to come, Shingrin offered to watch over the dragon turtle. No other words or offers were given, however, for as soon as Violence was stored away, Shingrin hit his staff on the ground between his feet.
The staff immediately began to emit a radiant glow. In a flash, Shingrin and his staff vanished, and a new sinister foe was introducing itself to the Arena. From the ground around Taeo, the Party member closest to where Shingrin had stood, a corpse-flower’s swarm of vine-like tentacles arose in a writhing flurry. Taeo had no time to react before the flower’s limbs had wrapped themselves around his body. As the Party watched in horror, another monster quickly entered the vicinity, this time from the skies.
“It’s a griffon!” Rune cried. And indeed it was. Its menacing thirty-foot wingspan cast a shadow across the arena, drawing the attention of all party members (except Taeo, who was obviously quite incapacitated).
As the griffon screamed and dove down toward Nora, a human barbarian, Rune dashed forward from behind Nora and attempted to grapple the griffon. The beast proved too quick, however, and it was able to catch one of Rune’s arms in its talons. It rose up and dropped Rune from a dangerous height, sending her sprawling in a daze as she landed.
Nora now saw her chance to engage the aerial foe, but once again it proved too elusive and Nora swung through nothing but air. As the griffon rose to swing back around, Eric the Cleric saw a chance to free Taeo from the clutches of the corpse flower. A fiery Scorching Ray spell loosened the deadly plant’s grasp on Taeo, but the drow was still confined to its hold. Eric quickly followed his cast with a successful quick shot at the approaching griffon above.
Gren then attacked with a successful fireball cast that singed the griffon’s feathers. With a agonized squawk it immediately hurtled downward aiming to attack its two closest foes: Rune and Nora. While Rune was able to avoid it this time, Nora was not so lucky, suffering a razor-sharp talon slash across the back.
As the beast rose again, the corpse flower pulled Taeo away from the Party, all the while tightening its hold on the drow. Nora, George, and Gren all rushed forward to aid the dark elf. Rune, however, remained fixed on the griffon. A quick strike to its left wing as it flew by drew blood and provoked a painful cry. It now appeared that its singed feathers had begun to catch flame, and it was flying considerably lower.
Within range of Taeo’s captor, attacks by both Nora and George missed, but Gren now suddenly recognized the hideous plant for what it was. With a grim smile, the battle-mage released two orbs in its direction. The orbs circled the plant for a moment with seemingly no effect, but a sudden flash and searing sound sent its limbs recoiling, and Taeo was finally able to escape its clutches.
The corpse flower was all too quick to recover, though, as its thorn-covered, slithery vines lashed out and grabbed at Nora, just barely failing to take hold. As the barbarian cried out, Eric cast a spell of bright light at the plant, but the foe was not affected, instead simply reflecting the light back at the cleric.
Its altitude decreasing by the second, the griffon now flew low over the corpse flower, likely seeking out a new target of its own.
On the opposite side of the arena, from within a dense wall of vines, a third foe now appeared in the Arena grounds. The Party’s battle with the corpse flower and griffon proved and effective distraction for the newcomer.
As it made its way across the Arena, Nora was able to fend off the plant long enough to slash at the griffon with her great sword. The strike swung true, and a fresh gash brought it to the ground with a barrage of dying screams. Realizing the beast was now entirely susceptible to attack, Gren mustered a powerful fireball and thrust it at the creature. The fireball served as a killing blow as the griffon’s entire body burst into flames. It managed one final shriek before falling lifelessly to the ground in a heap.
Meanwhile, the unseen third foe closed in on its first target: Eric the Cleric. Just as Eric caught sight of the monstrosity, it snatched the cleric’s shackled imp from his side and quickly ate the wriggling fiend. Eric watched in horror as what he recognized as a grick disposed of his short-lived captive. The grick was massive, resembling a worm but as big as a keep. Four clawed tentacles protruded from each side of its vicious beaked maw. The creature’s preoccupation with the imp allowed Eric enough time to hastily prepare a fireball and hurl it at the beast. The strike scorched its underbelly and drew it even closer to the elf.
Witnessing the trouble unfolding from near the griffon’s body, Taeo, Rune, and George rushed to the cleric’s aid. Nora and Gren had the closer foe in their sights, though. With a spark of determination in her eye, Nora wielded her Warhammer and swung it down upon the corpse flower. Gren quickly followed up with a stream of firebolts that scorched the creature and bought the party some time to focus on the menacing grick.
Taeo and Rune’s attacks struck the worm and pulled its attention from Eric. As it recoiled and then flared out its clawed tentacles, Gorgeous George stepped forward to issue his attack. The paladin’s personal recollection of the moment reads as follows:
George approaches the grick with such grace, wind blowing his luscious locks back like silver snakes slithering through grass. He squares his perfect body up with the foul creature and brings his glorious frost maul up over his head and swings down with someof his might. Frost begins to spread from the point of impact all over the wretched beast and within seconds, it is frozen solid. The beautiful angel turns and takes a step, flips his amazing hair back, and smiles. A blinding twinkle emits from his snow white teeth and it shatters the grick into a million little pieces. He aims a hip-high thumbs-up to the rest of the gang, and checks his hair for split ends. He finds none.
With the grick laid to waste, the party in its entirety turned its focus to the troublesome corpse flower.
Eric and Taeo were the first to lay strikes on the plant, angering it further but chipping away at its depleting health. In an effort to restore its vitality, the creature put its focus on Nora, the closest foe. Nora suddenly began to tremble and feel weak. She raised her eyes to the plant and realized it was attempting to steal her life force. Helpless to resist, Nora couldn’t react as the corpse flower’s tentacle vines wrapped around her arms and legs and drew her into captivity.
The party rushed to the barbarian’s aid as they witnessed what was unfolding. After a quick cast of Breathing Fire by Rune, Eric cast a wall of fire around the plant, accidentally dealing slight damage to Nora. Gren released two more orbs that inflicted further damage on the grotesque spawn. Following a successful longbow shot by Taeo, Nora realized her captor was growing in size—almost as if it was swelling.
As the plant writhed in pain and defiance, Rune suddenly sprinted toward the wall of fire surrounding Nora and the foe. She gracefully lunged and vaulted over the blazing wall, landing before Nora’s entangled body. The valiant monk ripped the vines away, and as they recoiled, Eric the Cleric eradicated the fire wall.
With a final blistering cry, it seemed Rune’s ferocious dismantling of the vines proved enough to rid them of the corpse flower’s presence. It slowly descended into the Arena floor and disappeared from view.
The party could finally revel in their victory. As they regrouped, George walked to the remains of the griffon and severed its head to take as a trophy. As the party cleaned their weapons, several of them caught sight of what looked like a shirtless monk standing in the shade of the giant oak near the Arena wall. The sight of his staff revealed the figure as Shingrin.
Tattoos crawled over his body—scorpions, tigers, and dragons skirting past one another on exposed skin. Shingrin’s gaze was fixed, but not on the party. He was staring at his hand…the Hand of Vecna.
Tattoos crawled over his body—scorpions, tigers, and dragons skirting past one another on exposed skin. Shingrin’s gaze was fixed, but not on the party. He was staring at his hand…the Hand of Vecna.
