EM.4.1 Epilogue

Session Preface

  The distant calls of a rooster, welcoming a rising sun. Soft beams of light stream in through windows, casting golden hues along dwarven-hewn stone floors, cold to the touch of bare feet. Smoke and the scent of cooking grease and meat billows from the Stoneway Inn kitchen, wafting through the room. The sounds of a day underway drifts in, stirring you gently from a deep, peaceful sleep.   After recent events, your mind is comforted by the return to routine. Tristain and Parathrax go through their respective prayers and routines of stretching and warm ups, grateful to feel the restored presence of Tyr and Bahamut, who smile upon their Chosen. At the shrine to Tyr, Tristain leads those gathered with expectations in a time of reflection and meditation, the crowd swelling in the wake of justice’s victory over tyranny and madness. Parathrax patrols the barracks, instilling confidence and offering guidance to the newcomers who have decided to call Durindale home and offered their services to keep it safe.   At breakfast, Tristain is joined by his friends, Hawk and Thaust, reminiscing and listening to their plans to return to Waterdeep, while Parathrax eats alongside Greycastle and Gil, discussing the rebuilding efforts around Durindale and her allied cities across the region. From their respective tables, Tristain and Parathrax share a knowing look, feeling the distant ache of the paracausal sliver and the dull burning of the scars they carry that they alone can understand.   Vorothruun stirs and makes his way to his study, his feet following familiar steps before his eyes are even fully open. His tomes and documents lie fanned out, exactly as he left them. Beside his books is a warmed mug of spiced tea and a still-warm loaf of bread with salted butter, no doubt brought by Caltha. Though Ragnalla slumbers once more, Vorothruun still feels her ever-watchful gaze upon him, the paracausal sliver still lingering in him intensifying their connection even further. The grey-scaled, iridescent dragonborn sits and sets himself to his research as he idly tears the bread without taking his eyes from the text. For though Vorothruun has seen the near end of the universe, there is much still to be learned and unraveled between those fraying edges of existence.   Outside the windows, Durindale bursts to life. A beautiful, sunny summer day is filled with a harmony of conversations, turning wheels, and children playing. Tents of purple and blue and red and green whip to and fro like cresting waves as the wind crosses over the Starmetal Hills. Snow falls around the central tower as it has for years. The fresh powder gives the world a pristine glow, reflecting shimmers of sunlight. It is a new day in Durindale. A new day across the Sword Coast and all of Faerun. It is a new day, full of light, full of warmth, and full of hope.  

Session Summary

 

What are your feelings in the day following the world’s restoration?

 

• Parathrax: So used to diving straight into the next challenge or threat, Parathrax struggles with wondering “what’s next” while coming to terms with his place as the Chosen of Bahamut and as a leader in both Durindale and Avraathe.
• Tristain: A wave of relief and happiness, missed with some lingering sense of loss he can’t quite place, though it eats away at him slowly. Begins plans to transforming the shrine of Tyr into a temple and new home for the Knights of Holy Judgement. Donates the Hammer of Tyr as a relic to the temple.
• Vorothruun: Sees the curtain of existence pulled back, filled with renewed vigor to delve deeper into the revelations and how little he still knows about the secrets of the universe.

 

What keepsakes become most important to your character?

• Parathrax: The Sword and Shield of Justice and Mercy; Parathraaj’s bond, the holy symbol of Bahamut.
• Tristain: His holy symbol of Tyr; Rulidd’s shield.
• Vorothruun: The rod of the pactkeeper; the book of shadows.

 

What moment of the journey to and battle with Cyric stays with your character the longest?

• Parathrax: The initial shock of shifting through time and Thren’s describing the way in which they could reevaluate reality.
• Tristain: The defeat of Cyric as the ultimate form of justice being served and the feeling that the journey he went on was worth dying and returning for.
• Vorothruun: Defeating Seymour as a tangible form of vengeance served and solidifying the path they were on as the right one.

 

How do you process the loss of those who passed during the War of the Chosen?

• Parathrax: Handling the arrangements for Parathraaj’s last rites, but beyond the rituals, returning to Avraathe in a substantial way to assume his father’s position and set the city on the right path forward in rebuilding and reestablishing itself.
• Tristain: In commemorating Second’s service and noble sacrifice, Tristain helps create a democratic, council-led governing body withing Durindale. The council’s hall is named in Second’s honor.
• Vorothruun: While he participates in all of the proceedings for Parathraaj, Vorothruun does not grieve, as his otherwordly view of existence no longer perceives death as an end nor a loss.

 

What are you most proud of in your adventures?

• Parathrax: Establishing Durindale as a place for second chances, where a group of castaways and misfits created a place in their own image that can subsequently be a place of good in the world.
• Tristain: Always remaining himself and true to his faith and his mission throughout all of their adventures.
• Vorothruun: Reuniting the Crown of Ragnalla and ascending to her Chosen.

 

Where do you plant the paracausal seed and what do you wish for?

• Parathrax: Planting the seed in Avraathe, in the home of his late father, Parathrax wishes for Bahamut’s divine guidance over the city so that it might be free of and protected from the corruption that darkened it in the past. A pure white river lily blooms, representative of Parathrax’s mother and his father’s love for her. Mirroring their union, Avraathe embraces the exiled community of Velqwen, and becomes a beacon of both justice and mercy, rather than the former without the latter.
• Tristain: Tristain plants the seed in a courtyard overlooking the Sea of Swords in the Halls of Justice in Neverwinter as the sun fades beneath the distant horizon. As he plants the seed, a beautiful, sturdy oak tree grows, offering shade and making a picturesque setting even more meditative and tranquil. As the tree bursts to life, Tristain wishes for a return to mortal life. Though age does not catch up with him in the moment, he goes on to feel the presence of time once more.
• Vorothruun: Planting the seed in a small pot atop the windowsill of his tower, Vorothruun wishes for the protection and privacy of his tower to remain undisturbed. The seed blooms into a vine that grows through the window and wraps itself around the tower with leaves of iridescent grey. The growth prevents and mortal or diety from scrying or otherwise perceiving within the tower through arcane means, so that Ragnalla is the only being who can observe Vorothruun’s research.

 

What does the future hold for you?

• Parathrax: Planning and looking for the next threat. Parathrax stays involved with Avraathe, but is primarily focussed on Durindale, acting as a shield for both communities in times of need.
• Tristain: Invests his time in training knights and other adventurers in Durindale while serving as the growing city’s judgment in legal matters. He eventually retires to a home along the coast, though he still visits Durindale often. He hangs up his hammer and shield, lest some threat draw him back into a more active role.
• Vorothruun: Travels frequently with Caltha, his whereabouts unknown to anyone else, seeking out secrets and revelations all across the Sword Coast and Faerun at large. Those who glimpse him around Durindale often remark that something looks or sounds different, but they can never place the cause nor exactly what has changed about him.

 

What does the future hold for the other heroes of Durindale?

• Endriel: Having saved his family from Silverymoon during the War of the Chosen, Endriel relocates them to Durindale until such a time as they can return to the restored elven city.
• Emmyth: Leaving the Zhentarim behind, Emmyth focusses on his arcane studies, eventually becoming a permanent resident of Castlekeep.
• Era: Sensing a vacuum of power in Luskan following the Arcane Brotherhood’s collapse, Era expands her operations northward, eventually becoming the next Pirate King of Luskan as the city rebuilds.
• Zephyros, Ivan, Barakas: The Skeazy Three operate a mercenary faction in Durindale who take on dangerous or otherwise covert and potentially illicit contracts the other heroes of Durindale don’t dare to take on.
• Alu: Wanders to the Moonshae Isles and enjoys the free and uncommitted life of a privateer.
• Thaust: In the wake of losing his memories, Thaust sticks with Hawk, but eventually journies to find other firbolgs and rediscover parts of himself. Though he does not restore his faith in Zeus, the core goodness of Thaust’s being means that he spends his energy doing good for others and helping people however he can.
• Hawk: Settling in Waterdeep, though he returns to Durindale with regularity. He and Mya wed and start a family while managing Trollskull Manor. They become close with all of their neighbors in Trollskull Alley, building a tight-knit community within the metropolis, free of the ties or burdens of Hawk’s family or his father’s influence.
 

 

Saga Conclusion

  The door of the Stoneway Inn bursts open as latecomers push their way through the archway, shutting the door behind. As tradition, they place their bare hands on the cool stone and the sigils carved therein. The symbols and crests of fallen heroes. The latecomers pause here, a moment of reverence and reflection amidst the revelry of the night.   Around the tavern, drinks flow freely as does conversation and camaraderie. For tonight is an evening of celebration and commemoration, even if many who have gathered weren’t present for the events. No doubt they’ve heard the stories, now myth and legend, scattered across the Sword Coast and throughout Faerun. The heroes of Durindale and the Chosen Three and their feats against Cyric at the end of time.   Tonight, Durindale celebrates the anniversary of these events, even if, admittedly, the exact dates of their efforts prove difficult to document. These details don’t stop those gathered from basking in the warm glow of community, whether they be locals or one of the many visitors pressing into the Stoneway Inn for the main event.   A half-elf with dark, tan skin stands behind the bar. He knots his long black hair into a bun, held in place with a thin dagger. Over his vibrant tunic of green, yellow, and blue, he wears a purple shawl, embroidered with gold which shimmers in the low light. He steps lithely from behind the bar and makes his way with effortless grace through the crowds to the stage.   He sits on a stool, illuminated by a golden candle’s glow. Over his shoulder, Rydan Hawkwinter plays a simple melody on the lute. Hawk smiles at him, the bard’s eyes highlighted by smile lines, silhouetted by streaks of silver hair creeping in. Hawk nods to the other familiar faces in attendance, friends from Waterdeep, friends forged in adventure, and no shortage of newcomers. Curious to hear the stories, no doubt. He didn’t blame them.   Davan, as his friends still call him here, clears his throat. The room falls to a reverent hush, save for the plucked melody of Hawk’s lute, both sweet and somber as the notes fill the air.   “I hope you all have enjoyed the festivities in this year’s celebration of Restoration Day. What a luxury to feast and laugh and watch such marvelous fireworks displays on such a perfect summer day. We of Durindale are honored you would join us and we welcome you to this place we hold so dear. We are fortunate to celebrate and share in joyous memories together."   "For those who were here to see the days before, we recall all too well the depth of despair and the haunting visage of our world decaying before our eyes. The staggering loss, the broken world, the shattered communities and countless lives lost from Cyric’s Ascension. When our world stood on the knife’s edge of annihilation.”   Davan pauses, letting the solemnity weigh on the audience for a moment. Hawk strikes an unresolved chord, letting the dissonance hang in the air for a moment, following Davan’s lead.   “But we are here not to dwell on the darkness, but to celebrate the light. And so, as promised, I will tell you a story. A grand tale. One I was fortunate enough to witness firsthand and even play a supporting role in myself.”   Davan winks to the crowd, though a precious few catch the irony in his words. Oh, well, he always wrote for his own amusement anyway.   “This is one of my favorite stories. One of heroes. Of adventure. Of life and death. Of gods and mortals. Of giants, dragons, vampires, and fiends. Of brothers, bound in blood. Of a knight, noble and true. Of their companions, great and many, steadfast and strong, and their countless heroic deeds.”   Davan takes a moment to scan the crowd, nodding with a warm smile to those in attendance who lived the stories. They are older now, all of them changed by their parts to play. Some in ways those gathered could scarce imagine. Hawk’s playing picks up, striking an adventurous, optimistic tone, the harmonies swelling beneath Davan’s words.   “I would tell you a story of friendship and faith. How three mortals saved the realms thrice over only to stand toe to toe with a force beyond divinity. And even then, our heroes did not falter.   “And though this story has a happy ending, we recognize the victory shines all the brighter, for it is not without its despair and defeats. The archway of this very inn serves as a constant reminder of the sacrifice and loss that brought us to this very evening. This is a story of light, though it many nights it burned as a desperate, flickering candle engulfed in encroaching darkness.”   “But even in the deepest despair, hope remains. And in the kindling sparks of hope, there is inspiration. For perhaps one of you gathered here, so following the footsteps of the Chosen Three, will pick up their torch and ignite the world. Perhaps you are the next hero of Durindale, the next chapter in their enduring saga.”   Hawk’s last chord rings out as wonder and anticipation crescendo throughout the room. Softly, he begins a new song, a delicate, tranquil plucking of simple chords as Davan smiles and speaks.   “Our story begins in the small, quaint village of Halfreach, in a tavern not-yet-named Thokk Bottom. A pair of dragonborn…”