Chapter Three - Return to the Mournland

"She really does seem wonderful. I can't wait to meet her.", Virtue says weakly.

Flashes of a mighty warforged army once more fill 37's mind. A crystal city all around. A titan of a warforged, blades protruding from all angles of his body stands before the army. Two wolf-like constructs stand ready at his sides.

The artificer focuses on the task at hand, keeping the elemental cart from crashing off the bridge and shakes off the vision. Quickly he emerges on the other side of the ghastly mists.

Once more, the minotaur finds his mark burning with pain. Flashes of the encounter behind him appear before him. The shield he threw, returning to him. The moment repeats over and over. The shield is thrown. The shield bounces back. Then a voice is heard.

"You can't abandon me..."

Torhak shakes the voice out of his head and the cart emerges from the mists. His mark still glowing.

Meepo successfully secures himself and Virtue to the cart. As the mists envelop the cart, Meepo's vision fades to the black of the swamp. The vials of black liquid tremble violently in his potions pouch.

The kobold shakes off the mists' effect in time to see the Kuo-toa lunge at him. Sidestepping the creature, it is falls through the cart's open door and is swallowed by the mists beyond. The sound of his shrieks quickly extinguished in the swirl of spectres.

Moments later, light from the dawn replaces the mists outside the door.

Laulaith finds herself on the outskirts of a large city. Smoke and fire can be seen in several areas. Even from this distance, the screams of the city's citizens can be heard. The chaos is palpable in the air as the guard fires arcane shots into the sky. In response, a beam of red light cuts through the clouds overhead and she sees an explosion within the city. A colossal warforged unlike any the elf has seen emerges from the clouds and hurtles to the ground. It lands on its feet only a few dozen yards away, its impact sends tremors throughout the area. The elf, stumbles to keep her balance as it steps toward the city.

At this distance, the elf seems to look straight up into the sky to observe the terror of it. It stands to over three hundred feet tall. Rather than being clad in armour, this colossus appears made of a strange wood. Its face has cat-like features and there is an enormous, glowing red talisman in its chest.

A fearful voice whispers behind Lauliath, "It's the weapon."

The elf turns and the vision vanishes as the cart emerges from the mists. She finds herself looking at Dubdub in the wagon.

Vice finds himself wandering through a small circus. He feels compelled to enter a small, brilliantly coloured tent and all sound is instantly shut out. As the gnome looks around, he is surrounded by infinite darkness. Only an elderly woman with a small table and deck of card is seen. She silently gestures to a space across from her and Vice is knocked from his feet into a chair that slides to the table before him.

Unable to move, Vice watches as the woman picks up a worn out deck of cards. He recognizes the deck similar to the one he took from the Vera's belongings. She repeatedly draw cards from the deck, showing them to Vice. Each one causes images to fill his mind. A sword battle where he impossibly knows every move his opponent makes. A warning of impending danger that saves his friends. Instinctively jumping out of the way of deadly trap. A moment of pure connection with a goddess... beautiful and terrifying. As the goddess opens her mouth to speak, the air is filled with infinite, shrieking feedback, as if all the sound of the world is filling his mind at once. Just as he feels his sanity will be stripped away forever, he sees the last fleeting image of a sly grin from the Vistani fortune-teller.

The cart then emerges from the mists.

The Khoravar finds himself in a decimated city and surrounded by undead. The grey sky above reveals him to be deep in the Mournland. The monstrosities close quickly in on him. The smell of the stale flesh fills his nostrils. They converge on him and Talon, who barely escape the grasp of their grey, unrotting hands. In desperation, he crashes through the closest door to escape, slamming it behind him. He slowly backs away from the door as the thumping begins. The floor beneath his feet is weak from years of neglect and the half-elf hears the telltale sound of failing wood. He and his construct both fall through it.

The room around him vanishes. Tryne, Talon and the broken wood crash onto the floor of another, much larger chamber. As he dusts himself off, he looks up for his pursuers and instead sees an intact ceiling. The pounding on the door is replaced by silence. Around him, he sees the remains of abandoned lightning rail parts. Wheels, rails, tools, arcane elements... a treasure trove of engineering. As best as he can tell, he has found himself in maintenance shop of some kind.

He wanders around for a moment, taking it all in. His attention is drawn to a large, glass case containing two metallic spheres, with glowing pink and blue crystals embedded into them. They seem to sing to him as he moves toward them.

He opens the case, reaching for the first one... The shop and its contents disappear as the cart emerges from the mists onto the bridge.