Wary of another encounter with bounty hunters along the trail to Waystone Market, you choose a circuitous route along Kal’s rocky southern coast; the journey is slow. In the late morning, while passing through a copse of palms, you spy a scaled beast fishing in the tidepools along the shore. Large wings and a wickedly barbed tail clumsily cantilever the wyvern in its fishing; it doesn’t notice you. It scarfs down a half-dozen large, silver fish while you watch from concealment. You opt to leave the creature alone.
A curiosity catches your attention before you leave: a weathered stone statue buried in the beach. Shaped like a dragon’s head, you suspect it is an artifact of a time long before the Injau ruled here. A healthy fear of disturbing the hungry wyvern deters a detailed inspection and you backtrack to a safer route.
It’s the early afternoon crest a ridge and catch sight of your destination; something is very wrong. A funnel of dark clouds surrounds the clearing and the wind, even where you stand miles away, is whipping the jungle canopy into a frenzy. Burst of blue- and purple-white lightning pierce the interior of the storm. This is not a natural phenomenon! Worried that the Seravash are up to something dangerous, you rush forward through the writhing undergrowth.
It takes nearly an hour to push your way to the Waystone Market, whipped by vines and bruised by fallen branches. The staggering wind is eerily calm as you enter the clearing to the scene of massacre; dead lizardfolk of the Seravash tribe lie scattered, burned and bloody, throughout the market. One shaman, scroll held aloft, chants a ritual at the obelisk and its previously illegible runes glow defiantly white in response. A pillar of black magic rises around the obelisk and pierces the storm clouds. A streak of lightning arcs down into the shaman’s guards, taking the form of ghostly dragons as it strikes, but the Seravash that remain are girded against the obelisk’s defenses.
The guards ring the shaman as you attempt to disrupt him. The Seravash are well trained and hold long enough for demons to reinforce the line, spawned from the dark energy surrounding the obelisks. The belching, putrescent foot soldiers of the hells are resistant to conventional weapons and harry your spellcasters. Still, you are able to prevent the shaman from completing the ritual as you battle the demons and lizardfolk. The ritual ends with a sudden hush as the arcane scroll is destroyed with your fire magic. Livid, the shaman screams and launches a suicide attack against you. The lizardfolk fight to the death even after their demon allies are banished, though you manage to capture one alive, even after your intent is discerned and the warriors execute the fallen.
Without a moment’s pause to heal, a bounty hunter steps from the forest and delivers an ultimatum, “Surrender and there’ll be no trouble.” It is the cleric of Seref from the ambush along the trail. In no mood for conversation and distrustful of the cleric, you attack. Your magic quickly impedes and disables the group of bounty hunters. A few arrows from the elven ranger find a mark, but the fight is fast and brutal; the ranger escapes into the forest while her companions are killed.