Blinking the
afterimages away, you look around. In every direction arid desert sands shift
restlessly, stirred by a chill wind that whips stinging particles of grit into
your eyes and face. The only relief from the serried ranks of sand dunes are
the broken shards of once lofty crystal towers that pierce the sky some miles
distant. The sky is a peculiar brazen colour, and despite the fact that sun
blazes nearly directly overhead the air is thin and cold. Every breath is an
effort. Somehow the sunlight seems less bright, and the shadows amongst the
dunes darker than they should be.
You are
standing in a shallow basin, maybe a mile or more across, and it is with a
sudden shock that you realise that these eroded remnants are all that remains
of Old Bald Crag.
The players
have travelled to the far future, to a time when the earth is dying, and even
magic is passing. Spells of any sort will be noticeably weaker, natural light
sources will appear diminished. Fighting will be an effort due to the thinness
of the air.
The gem will
not activate until sometime in the early evening, in the meantime the party can
explore as much as they like, but it will quickly become apparent that the
world in which they find themselves is long dead. If they walk to the towers
they will find them utterly empty (apart from the sand drifts). Exploration
will be limited in any event; the anti-gravity lifts having ceased to work
countless millennia ago.
From the
towers they will be able to see the sea. But the sea will prove equally dead,
the seawater long since saline beyond the ability of life to survive.
Around
nightfall the shadows amongst the dunes will begin to move of their own
volition, coalescing into a swirling cloud that will encircle the party. Once
surrounded by the shadows, the party will be attacked, at first desultorily but
then with increasing urgency until they are dead, or the gem activates. During
the shadow attacks, the party will be able to continue to move, clerics can
perform turns, but the effects will be diminished, the shadows only retreating
a short distance. Bright light will also serve to keep the shadows at bay.
Shadows (as
MM)
HP 12 apiece
Once again the
gem will pulse, and the dying desert lands will wink out of existence. Each
character will find him/herself disembodied in an endless swirling grey vortex.
Each one will slowly become aware of a presence nearby, and the following words
will form in their minds.
There are
paths not meant to be trod beneath the foot of man
Roads as
yet un walked
You have
seen a past, which may not have been,
And a
future, which yet may not be
But now
your journey is over
For certain
things may not be
And time
cannot abide a paradox
With
that, the grey vortex will disappear, and the characters will find themselves
waking painfully from the positions in the boneyard in which they first fell.
Anything gathered on their travels through time belonging to their own era will
appear with them, including any NPC’s/PC’s whom they have become acquainted
with. Any persons and all objects from foreign era’s will have vanished, as
will have any wounds or scars sustained during their adventures.
The
gem too has vanished, alternatively the gem might remain, cold and lifeless,
never to be reactivated again. If you choose the second option, it will prove
to be nothing more than quartz, although of exquisite beauty and symmetry. If
the characters can smuggle the gem out, without being intercepted by the Earl’s
forces, it can be sold for between 5000-1000 gp on the open market.
Further
explorations of the mountain will fail to reveal anything other than what is
covered in chapter 1.
When
they decide to return to the outer world, on gaining the entry chamber they
will hear the clash of army outside, the blare of trumpets sounding. Climbing
to the entrance they will find themselves looking out on watery, sunlit
afternoon. Orc’s desperately grapple with men-at-arms amidst the rain, while
armoured knights over run the goblin and warg alike.
The
players can wade into the conflict at this point, encountering goblins, orcs,
bandits and the like. Victory will be swift however, regardless of what they
decide to do.
Unexpectedly
the Earl will greet them and proclaim them hero’s, crediting them with luring
the opposing force into a trap, and allowing his own forces to strike unnoticed
from the rear. In the ensuing celebrations, the Earl will award them 250 – 500
gp each and make good any equipment loses suffered during the adventure.
Whether
the Earl and his liegeman believe the characters wild tale, is quite another
story.