Just as the rumors of the war in the West arrive at the midlands, a ripple of assassinations began throughout the empire. Some will blame the Way Of The Ancient Age, others their fellow man. Most warriors of the Path Of The Lake Of Salt would agree that the power of The Grand Way Of Ways, is no doubt on the rise.

Two weeks ago, three highly valued magic weapons with the cryptic names Cybermasher, Planetshaker & Lifelash disappeared from the vaults of their owners in the midst of the city. Rewards were posted, servants were hanged, and even the sanctuary of the Great Thunder Thieves’ Guild was violated in the frantic search for these priceless arms, but not a single clue turned up.

Until now.

The weapons’ former owners each received a copy of an ambiguous note:

Search ye now or search ye later,
You’ll find now trace of the three,
Unless you follow these instructions clear,
For the weapons reside with me.
 
North past the city of the Salty Lake,
Past all the two for one offers,
You must go to reach the concrete fair
The stroke of eight not a second longer
 
An epic plot
That will affect all without end
I care not for the heroes
You seek to hire
Few are prepared for the madness to come
The blackest of Fridays
Will vanquish them into the fire

With this…our paragons started their quest.

Wendy Bloodsworth, of the clan Shamani. She has access to healing and defensive powers alike. Her spells specifically address more natural phenom, like coffee beans. Her spirit companion, Gigi, is a Tabby with a temper to match.

Mark The Specter, a diabolic rogue, who is always looking for the next opportunity and does not often hold tight to specific ideals. He dislikes dealing with large groups due to the sheer numbers and works well with those who can serve as distractions, like elderly women.

The entryway of the first passage lay mostly unguarded. However, once inside the easily marked commerce campus, the agents of the Plutocratic Collective swarmed the treasure troves. Once the clock marked the time of eight, all of the Fiends, Basilisks and Goblins began to pillage spoils and delights. Taking no hits of damage, I was able to come away with linen assets aplenty. However, my colleague returned without her hearts desire but was able to salvage a few trinkets of bric-a-brac. No sign of the Cybermasher, we continued on.

The second advancement was congested with Orcs, Shreikers and Troglodytes. We did our best to blend in, conversing about tales of looting and filthy lucre. Working the local warlords and manipulating the others into a state of alliance in order to get what we came for…The Planetshaker. We searched the district thoroughly, a fruitless but not unproductive endeavor. We acquired a map along with armaments of a chromatic ilk. Fatigue started to set in, so we thought it best to retreat back to camp to replenish Mana and level up. But not before some Umber Hulk blundered into a ‘Jenga’ display, leveling the house of cards completely.

The final cavern was a labyrinthine crypt filled with poison gases, terrible traps and ferocious monsters to slay the overconfident. Prizes both precious and magical fill the catacombs, it was mentioned that a Lich King still wards his final haunt. Some say he was a being of surpassing power, holding secrets over death itself. The reaper this time, taking the form off a ‘Department Store Line’. The shadow creatures seemingly appear out of nowhere, try to gain advantage within the ‘line’, and are dealt with. When we reach the threshold, there are no Elemental Masters. No Spirit Generals or Mind Flyers. No Lifelash.

Alas, on the way to the exit there was another note:

You’ve been to all three
Tripping over dollars for dirt
What’s good for the goose chase
Take a gander at what your time is worth?

-Dagobot