A Dungeon Crawl
Umm, a dungeon crawl based in farland.You have each come to Elder Daven for your various reasons, be it trade, exploration, adventure, happenstance, or Elder Daven just being a stop on your journey through life. You arrive at different times of the day and by sundown have taken in most of the sights. A growling stomach, however, leads you to The Sailor's Hat, where smells of roasted meats, exotic spices, and baked goods causes your stomach to protest even louder.
A human woman, maybe in her late 20s, glides over to your table with a stone tablet in her hand. Ah yes, the proprietor was a wizard and figured out a way to get the orders sent directly to the kitchen from the common room.
"We've got roast duck in an orange sauce, broiled lamb cutlets with mint jelly, or whole rotisserie chicken in rosemary and white wine. Along with that you can have steamed vegetables or a baked potato. And, of course, our finest wines and ales await."
You pick what you want and when it comes you scarf it down, slowly getting tipsy off the wonderful spirits, good food, and pleasant atmosphere. After paying for your delicious dinner, you rent a room for the night and turn in, stuffed, exhausted from your journey, and happy.
You fall into a deep sleep early, which causes you to miss the drastic change in weather. When you went to bed, the sun had just recently set in a clear sky and the seabreeze was warm from the day's pleasant weather. However, as the last vestiges of dusk disappear and full night comes, dark clouds gather to the east.
The storm rushes into Elder Daven, waves crashing against the moored boats of city, wind howling through the city streets. People seek shelter immediately. Lightning strikes several places, starting a few fires that are put out quickly enough. However, it is not the slashing rain or tearing wind that is most disturbing, especially at this time of year. It is the whispering voices that seem to be carried in the wind. Fell, evil voices, speaking in tongues unknown to any with a sane mind or pure heart. Words that wrench at the sanity of those who hear them and tear at the eardrums.
Ictkhaa'nhu mruaw'nuikt illekcroniusma filigha fythreknamok
As those words pass through your mind, you see a cave entrance deep in some woods, and a few simple words stick in your mind "Har'ol d' Verin ".
Those who fall asleep or have been asleep have hideous nightmares filled with geometrically impossible landscapes, underground prisons, torture devices to boggle the mind, and beasts hideous and fearsome enough for the bravest of men to end their own lives. You toss and turn the entire night, drenched in sweat, yet shivering as though cold. You dream of family members torn asunder, limb from limb, by awful beasts. You dream of friends and mentors flayed from their skin. You see yourselves burning children alive, their skin peeling back and melting. You see yourselves being sawn in half slowly, can almost feel the rusty teeth cutting into your flesh.
Finally the night passes and you wake up in your rooms at The Sailor's Hat. It is dark grey out and murderously quiet. Even the sea seems to be grieving. The new, cold day has begun...
