Getting the Heck Outta Town

Secure in their constructed fortress, the adventuring team awaited another assault by the goblinoids, this time hopefully with battlesuits. An attempt was made to repair the door the warcaster had blasted away, but it appeared it was a slap-dash repair at best.

Nevertheless, the group prepared itself for the next conflict, and it did arrive. Instead of battlesuits however, the hobgoblins were lead by an Anekeg ('frigging giant locust), and a pair of acid Spitting Drakes! These creatures made short work of the barrier the group had prepared, and they and a number of goblinoids rushed into the building to do battle.

Big. Frelling. Mistake.

Angered by the fact the goblins were not providing the needed battlesuits, the party fell upon the miscreants and preceded to completely trash and thrash their opponents. I'm talking this was a near complete steamroll. The hobgoblin commander had to yelp and run like a little schoolgirl, barely managing to save himself and a single minion from the horrific boot-stomping the party inflicted upon them.

"But... but... my beautiful encounter!" The DM was heard to cry out in despair.

The party was unmoved by such pleas, and grimly looked towards the battlesuits arriving.

And, finally, it did come to pass. Two goblin soldier suits and a hobgoblin commander suit lead the next assault, and to the great satisfaction of the divine, it was a rough and rumble battle. There was much throwing of spells and effects and using of special powers and hard hitting smack downs.

In the end, the party was successful, having brought down all their opponents. Taking the commander suit and one of the goblin suits, the party retreated to their prepared escape route, fleeing down old thieves tunnels. They arrived at the location their friend Priest Garjic was preparing the ritual to shift the party into the Feywild so they could escape the city without further goblin interference.

Lady Vren was on hand to present the party with letters for the leadership of High Castle, as well as one of her son in the far off city. With a quick hug for her saviors, she stepped back as the party stepped through the veil between worlds and stood gazing upon the majestic view of the Feywild.

Where before they had been inside a city, now the party was in the middle of a vast forest, the colors brighter, the air sharper, and no sign of any habitation around them. They had finally escaped Grand Port.

Or at least, they kind of did.

All of a sudden, one of the nearby trees shifted into a new shape, a face appearing on the bark. "HOW DARE YOU!" The tree thundered. "HOW DARE YOU BRING SUCH DEATH MAGIC INTO MY REALM! AN ITEM LIKE THAT WILL ONLY BRING DESTRUCTION WITH IT! I BANISH IT FROM MY SIGHT!"

With a wave of his leafy hand, the tree threw the party out of the Feywild with great force. The party crashed back into Grand Port, but kept moving through the gap between worlds. When the party finally stopped spinning, they found themselves in what vaguely looked like Grand Port, but a Grand Port taking over by Gothic architecture and cold climate.

The buildings around them were tombs and mausoleums, the decor filled with gaunt and hollow images. The sky above was cold and lifeless, a faded sun hidden behind thick clouds. Colors were muted, being mostly black, greys, rust reds, and dirty-yellowish white. The fey had pushed them out of the Feywild and into the Shadowfell.

Some exploration found that dead souls drifted throughout the Shadowfell, souls wandering before their final judgment was decided.

Once given time to reflect upon things, Aisha realized that her mask --a powerful item she had held for quite some time now-- was probably the reason why the party had been violently shunted from the Feywild. Looking at the mask in a mirror showed the mask was attached to a ghostly crown of some kind, and behind the wearer were the eyes of some horrific monster, staring at them with hunger and fury.

The party is now looking for an escape from this dark echo of Grand Port. There are no living goblins here, but the world is not entirely safe either. There are living creatures here as well, but also packs of undead that creep from alley to alley, striking at the unwary and always hungry for flesh and soul. The party itself was ambushed by a group of these beasts: ghouls, poltergeists, flying zombies, and dead sprites that burned with a hollow fire.

Following advice from a somewhat friendly soul, the party is proceeding north to either find a bazaar where they might find information on a way home, or else talk to the Thunder Beast, who might know of a way to return to the real world.

Only 2 days remain before their ship leaves its sheltered cove. The party must make haste.