The Calamity

Crivelln looked out over the battlements of his keep, maintaining his eternal vigil over the twisted spires of the Temple of Elemental Evil. The dark edifice maintained its sinister aspect, but it had been quiet of late.

The stones of the keep shuddered, conveying to his fingertips a vast shock from deep within the earth on which it stood. Instantly his hand went to the hilt of his greatsword, alert for any danger, but the disturbance vanished as suddenly as it had come. The Temple stood unchanged.

Moments later, a breathless Knight-Captain joined him on the battlements. "Lord Commander, we're mustering our defences. Is it... do we know the cause?"

Crivelln shook his head grimly. "Nothing obvious. Yet."

From the darkening sky, a pale white dove descended to alight on the battlements. It ruffled its feathers with a strange sound - the rustling of paper, which Crivelln could now see that it was constructed from. It walked a few steps toward him, stretched its wings, and... unfolded itself, the intricate pleats and creases vanishing from its form until it lay as a flat sheet of white paper with words scribed in black ink. Crivelln caught it before it blew away in the chill wind. His own name was written at the top, in a familiar hand.

---

Silvanus stayed silent while the High Druids argued, showing no sign of supporting one side or the other. This was one of the more tedious aspects of these annual gatherings - banal matters of policy, funding allocation, the squabbles of those aligned in purpose but divided in approach. It wasn't truly necessary for the Arch-Druid himself to attend the discussions, but he felt it was important, both to keep himself informed and to provide final arbitration should the Circle be too evenly split to find resolution. Still, not all the details were essential, and he allowed his mind to wander as he stared into the Eternal Flame that illuminated their council.

The magical flame guttered, and for an instant it vanished entirely. Though it roared back to life in the span of a heartbeat, Silvanus was shaken. No mere movement of air could extinguish it; this was an ill omen indeed.

An oak leaf landed on the table in front of him. He barely noticed it amid the sudden silence as the druids waited, pondering what the flickering flame could portend. Then it began to move of its own accord, and suddenly had his full attention. It unfolded into a sheet of deep green paper with writing that looked to have been scorched into its surface.

---

Altea finished her sermon, the echoes of her clear voice ringing through the temple. The congregation of worshippers were hushed, staring up at her - most had tears in their eyes, a mixture of joy at being in her presence and sorrow that the sharing of her divine wisdom was concluded. She could read their faces, their emotions, so clearly... but could she truly sense their inner thoughts, their deepest fears and desires, as a goddess ought? She told herself that she could, and indeed, she truly believed it.

As she turned over the final page of her speech, she found an extra sheet of paper which she was certain hadn't been there when she began. She picked it up curiously, watching the words - which seemed to be written in gold leaf - catch the light. Her audience remained deathly silent, unsure of what was happening but grateful for a few moments more of her glory.

---

Avaris sat in a deep trance, his consciousness expanding in contemplation of the universe and its mysteries. It was a pure and perfect calm - the dissolution of self as he subsumed into all of Creation.

But like the shadow of a vast and deadly predator beneath the surface of a pristine lake, something moved with barely a ripple disturbing the tranquility - some Calamity, rushing swiftly toward Becoming. He barely had time to comprehend it before it became manifest, a terrible wrongness wrenching at the heart of everything. He cried out and fell as if struck, his meditation broken, a terrible fear coiling in his chest.

As he lay, trying to focus on his breathing as Master Fleeple had taught him so many years ago, an exquisite origami butterfly fluttered into his chamber and unfolded itself into his hand.

---

Silvanus, flanked by his High Druids, steps out from the mighty and ancient oak tree at the centre of Greyhawk's public square. Normally a riot of colour and activity, with vendors hawking their wares and performers putting on all manner of entertainment, the square now resembles a blasted wasteland - carts and bodies lie broken amongst the rubble of collapsed buildings, the air is thick with dust and smoke, and the scene is cast in a ghastly red light as the sun struggles to penetrate the thick pall that hangs over everything. The great tree from which they've emerged is mortally wounded, its limbs shattered, bleeding sap from huge cracks in its trunk. A few people are picking through the rubble, half-dazed and smeared with ash and blood, but otherwise the square is deathly silent.

Theobald's Tower, which should be a few hundred yards away from the square, is gone. In its place is a smoking crater a hundred yards wide and fifty feet deep, some of the stones still glowing red-hot near the centre. The smoke is thickest in that direction.

---

From the air, the scale of the devastation is more apparent. The rising column of smoke can be seen from miles away as Avaris and Crivelln approach at speed. A gaping hole has been torn in the city, buildings knocked aside and scattered like a child's blocks away from where the Tower used to stand. Crowds of battered, frightened survivors gather around makeshift field hospitals in the areas that remain intact, as the City Watch attempt to maintain order and prevent panic.

Fortunately there doesn't seem to be any significant damage to the city's hinterland, although falling ash and dust might cause problems for small waterways in the area. Whatever happened, it was very localised and surprisingly well contained.

The torrents of water from Silvanus' decanter produce huge clouds of steam as they hit the hot stone, which crackles and pops as it is rapidly cooled to the point where it is safe enough to walk on. The smoke and dust begin to clear, revealing an odd sight - a crumpled humanoid figure, bundled in heavy robes, suspended about a hundred feet above the floor of the crater. As the steam swirls around it, Silvanus can see the outlines of solid walls of force surrounding the figure on all sides.

---

Crivelln quickly locates the Lord Mayor - with the City Hall partially destroyed, a marquee has been set up as a headquarters for the Council. Some of the guards stand dumb-struck as Crivelln's pegasus lands near the tent; the higher-ranking veterans simply salute and wave him through to the makeshift Council Chamber. The Lord Mayor and various members of the Council are discussing their plans over a large map of the city. They turn to Crivelln as he enters, their tired faces displaying plain relief at his arrival.

"Lord Commander!" Lord Mayor Gasgal strides forward to clasp Crivelln's hand. "We just received word of your arrival - would that it were under better circumstances! We can't thank you enough for coming to the city's aid."

Avaris is quickly swarmed by confused and frightened citizens, most simply asking for help rather than offering any useful information. The best he can glean is that everything seemed normal - it was a typical market day, the weather was fine, and then the wizard's tower simply exploded, bursting from within. There was no warning, no sign of attack.

---

On closer inspection, Silvanus can recall seeing this kind of spell before - Theo used to call it a "force-cage". It is an impenetrable, barely-perceptible cube of pure magical energy, and while Silvanus does not fully grasp the nuances of its formation, he is aware that once conjured, it is stable for a considerable time without further attention from the caster. Roughly an hour, if he recalls correctly, which if it were cast around the time of the explosion would mean it could collapse at any moment...

As if on cue, the barrier shimmers and evaporates into nothingness. The figure begins to fall, screaming and flailing, and Silvanus catches it in his talons. Fists beat at him in panic, but weakly, and he ignores the blows while guiding them both to a relatively gentle landing. The figure collapses, then struggles to its feet. The hood of its robe falls back, revealing a dark-haired human man - Silvanus vaguely recalls the name Peregrine, the most promising of Theobald's apprentices. The skin on his face and hands looks sunburned, and his eyes are clouded to the point where they appear almost completely white. He reaches out blindly with a shaking hand, and says, "Wh-who's there?"

Gasgal looks frankly relieved at Crivelln's suggestion of handling the investigation.

"We don't know much, unfortunately. Theobald would sometimes warn the Council in advance of one of his experiments if he thought there was a chance it might go awry, but we hadn't had word from him in some time. Today seemed much like any other, and then the whole damned tower exploded! Thank goodness we weren't in session, otherwise the whole Council might have been wiped out."

"If you're willing to help with the investigation, we would truly appreciate it. We've got our hands full just trying to make sure that everyone has food and shelter, and making tallies of the missing and the dead. We can't spare the guards to keep the area secure, though from what I'm told, everything in the tower was destroyed, so I can't imagine why anyone would want to go back there. But yes, by all means - bring in your knights if needed, and conduct the investigation however you wish. I'm officially placing you in charge of those matters, and I'll have my people report to you if they encounter anything suspicious or hear any credible rumours among the populace."

At the mere mention of Theobald's name, Peregrine's face crumples and he slumps to the ground in despair, weeping openly. He is inconsolable for quite some time, despite Silvanus' best efforts. By the time he has composed himself enough to speak, Crivelln and Avaris have returned to check in.

"Master Theobald was experimenting with the Heart of Scrallimenaxian - though the dragon is long dead, it still held considerable magical power, and he was convinced that if he could just find a way to harness it... I don't know how his ritual was supposed to work. He only had me assisting with circles and wards - the geometry was so complex. I must have made a mistake." His weak frame heaves with huge sobs.

"I'm finished as a wizard. Everything I've worked for, my whole life is over. There's no way he'll keep me on after this. Months of preparation, priceless components, all for nothing because of me. I'm sure there will be some damage to the Tower as well. And on top of all that, he'll have to start growing a new clone. I saw his body disintegrate - it's the last thing I saw, I can't stop seeing it - so he will certainly have had to rebirth. Is... is he back yet? I don't think I can face him. Oh, why couldn't he have just let me die!"

"Master Theobald's had the Heart in his possession ever since he and his companions slew the dragon. Wait..." Peregrine looks nervous as it suddenly dawns on him who he's dealing with. "Did you say your name was Silvanus? As in... the Arch-Druid? Did you not know that he had taken the wyrm's heart for his research? And why would you be here at all... unless..."

The colour drains from the man's face, and he looks like he's about to faint. "Has... has something gone wrong with Master Theobald's rebirth? Was the clone damaged somehow? Oh, gods..."

Extending his magical senses, Crivelln makes a thorough sweep of the area. He does not find any abberations, celestials, elementals, fey, fiends, or undead anywhere in the vicinity, nor any consecrated or desecrated areas.

Peregrine seems a bit lost and confused as Silvanus abruptly departs, but returns to Avaris' question. "Ah... the clone, yes. It was hidden in a secret laboratory, protected by magical wards. I know its location, though I don't know how to bypass the defences - I think it would permit only Theobald himself. I would be happy to take you there... except that it would be very difficult to navigate while I remain, er, in my current state." He waves a hand in front of his blind eyes.

Peregrine blinks and stares at the devastation around him. "This... this is impossible."

Looking back to Avaris and Crivelln, he frowns. "I don't mean, 'Oh no, I can't believe this has happened.' I mean that this is impossible. The Tower was suffused with powerful abjurations, reinforced way beyond anything that could have happened if the experiment went wrong. Even if all the energy in the Heart had been released at once, there were failsafes, contingencies... Master Theobald maintained those himself. The Tower should have been indestructible for anything less than the direct intervention of a being of godlike power."

After a moment, he recovers. "But yes, I can take you to the Sanctuary whenever you're ready."

"Hmm, how can I explain... It's a bit like a cask of ale, I suppose. The barrel, or the Heart in this case, is full of magical energy... er, ale... bursting to get out. You can't just smash the barrel, the ale will go everywhere and be lost, you'll barely get any of it. But if you carefully tap it with a spigot so that you can control how the ale comes out, you can get mug after mug of ale whenever you want. Right? That's what Master Theobald was trying to do with the Heart, although it's a bit more, uh, metaphysical than just knocking a tap through wood."

"Before the explosion, I was working on one of the containment circles. I heard Master Theobald shout a warning - he was standing over near the Heart - and by the time I looked up he'd already conjured the force-cage around me. I couldn't hear anything once the cage manifested, but an instant later the Heart lit up, brighter than the sun, brighter than anything I've ever seen. I saw Master Theobald's silhouette against the light, then it disintegrated. After that, I couldn't see anything."

Peregrine shakes his head. "No, it's fine - I'm happy to take you there. I need to find out what's happened to Master Theobald more than anyone. That said... I won't be coming inside with you, if that's all right. Master Theobald's sanctuary is where he went to be alone, and it is very much designed to keep everyone else out. I don't think he would have used any lethal intrusion countermeasures, but I honestly can't say for sure, and it probably gets worse the deeper you go. Anyway, I'll get started."

He draws a pouch of arcane components from within his robe, and begins scribing a magic circle in chalk on the scorched stone. When the circle is complete, he speaks a few words and waves his hands, and it begins to glow, the air above it shimmering. "If you'll follow me, please," Peregrine says as he steps into the circle, and vanishes in a flash of light.

You arrive in a small, circular room with rough, unfinished stone walls. There are no windows. Much of its floor space is given over to another teleportation circle, permanently inlaid in silver into the rock. The faint glow from the circle is the only source of illumination, until Peregrine speaks a word and conjures a ball of light which rises to hover overhead.

The room has very few other features: a small arrangement of comfortable-looking chairs, a doorway beyond which you can make out a staircase leading down into the darkness, and a small silver bell hanging from a bracket affixed to the wall. Next to the bell is a hand-written note which reads, "Do not disturb unless it is an EMERGENCY".

"It's a bit like a tower," Peregrine explains, "Only in reverse. This is the top floor - I'm not sure how many there are in total. I'll wait here until you return. Let me know if there's anything else you need."

The bell does nothing but make a soft tinkling sound as Avaris rings it. Peregrine looks over at him, startled. "Oh! Yes, that's for getting Master Theobald's attention when he's in the sanctuary. Which hopefully he is, I suppose - that would be the best-case scenario, that his rebirth went according to plan but he's just preoccupied or trapped for some reason. This way he won't be surprised if you barge in on him, which is probably for the best. Good thinking." He pauses for a second. "I've never had sufficient cause to ring it myself."

Silvanus descends in the form of a giant spider, followed by his wildfire spirit. After only a few dozen feet, the stairs become thick with spiderwebs - as a spider he can navigate them fairly easily, but the others would have a much harder time forcing their way through. The wildfire spirit simply glides through the webs, burning them away as it passes and leaving an easy path to follow.

Silvanus comes to a landing. The staircase continues downwards, but there is also a polished oak door with iron bands and a wrought-iron knob. There is no keyhole, but it seems to be locked.

Even to Silvanus' keen eye, aside from the masses of cobwebs choking the stairs, the tower is spotless - not one speck of dust rests on any surface, as though it had just been thoroughly cleaned. You cannot see evidence of any creature passing through the area. The cobwebs do not seem to be the product of neglect, and indeed you can see no spiders of any kind, but the webs that were burned away are already starting to reform across the upward stairs.

As the group descends further, a thick fog fills the stairway. You can follow the glow from the wildfire spirit as it burns through the webs, but even from a few feet away you can barely make out its shape. You can't even see the stairs beneath your feet. Cautiously, you proceed until you reach a second landing, with a door identical to the first. The stairs seem to continue downward at the end of the landing.

"How are you getting along?" Peregrine asks as the adventurers re-emerge. After you ask about the magical defences, he nods and says, "Yes, that's about what I'd expect. Webs to impede progress, fog to disorient and conceal. I wouldn't be surprised to also find that some of the more important doors are glamoured to look like ordinary walls. Oh, and the magic will probably try to mess with your heads, so watch out that you don't find yourselves getting lost. The whole place probably isn't very big. That's just the passive stuff - if it was me, I'd also put in some spell traps to injure or confuse more powerful intruders who aren't dissuaded by the simpler wards."

As Avaris releases the paper bird, it flies up to the ceiling but then dramatically flares into ashes.

"No," Peregrine shakes his head sadly. "We are still on our native plane. Unless he has travelled to another plane himself - which is possible, though I can't think why he would - then that is not a good sign."

The three of you continue to explore the tower. You don't find any hidden doors, but the magical effects are definitely beginning to play with your minds - you get turned around, walking up stairs when you thought you were going down, even finding yourselves arguing with each other about which direction is down. Eventually, after what feels like a dozen flights of stairs, you reach the end of the staircase.

An imposing door, seemingly fashioned from mithril, waits at the end of the landing. Silvanus stops as the bricks in the wall next to him start to move, grinding together and parting to reveal something like a mouth formed of stone. It speaks in a deep, gravelly voice.

"INTRUDERS. I AM IMPRESSED THAT YOU HAVE MADE IT THIS FAR, BUT NOW PLAY TIME IS OVER. GO NO FURTHER. THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING."

Having delivered its message, the wall returns to normal.

There is no reaction to Avaris' plea.

As Crivelln's ethereal weapon slams home, the door's surface lights up. Magical energy in the form of glowing runes pulses out of it, condensing toward the centre and coalescing into a tiny, fiercely bright point of light.

The solid metal slab buckles and warps under the force of Crivelln's blows. It shouldn't take much more to tear it from its frame.

The mote of light hangs in the space in front of the door as Crivelln works around it, growing brighter by the second.

A second blow from the divine axe rends the door off its hinges. As it falls, the mote of light flares impossibly bright and then explodes in a ball of flame.

The persistent fog near you is temporarily evaporated by the fire, though it begins creeping back almost immediately. You barely catch a glimpse of the chamber beyond the door before it is once again shrouded, but you do have time to note a large, ornate sarcophagus.

Just as Crivelln is about to step over the threshold of the room, Avaris' hand on his shoulder stops him in place. In the light from the Lantern of Revealing, a shimmering symbol spreads across the floor of the chamber, so faint and fine as to be almost invisible while it lies dormant.

Avaris has seen its like before. Death.

While you can't see the entire room due to the fog, the size and extent of the Symbol seems like it would cover a large area - most if not all of the room, assuming it's a similar size to the portal room.