Seven strangers were hired to guard a merchant's cart traveling along the Trade Way. The pay was good, the work seemed simple, and none of us knew each other yet.
That changed quickly.
On the road, we found another merchant's cart—overturned, ransacked, covered in claw marks. Papers scattered everywhere. Blood on the ground. And survivors: the Fenwick family, hiding in the woods, terrified.
Aldric, Elena, and young Marcus had been attacked by kobolds. Their guards were dead. They had barely escaped with their lives.
The kobolds came at us from the forest—small, vicious, organized. They fought with surprising coordination. We drove them off, but they retreated in formation, not in panic.
These weren't random raiders. They were soldiers.
We tracked the kobolds to their lair—a cave system in the side of Crimson Peak, a volcanic mountain that loomed over the region. Inside, we found more kobolds. Lots more.
The kobold chieftain waited for us in the deepest chamber. Krek'tak wore crude armor and a bronze medallion marked with three claw marks forming a triangle.
The battle was fierce. But we prevailed.
And when Krek'tak died, the mountain shook.
In the deepest chamber of the kobold caves, we found it: a massive ruby, the size of a human heart, resting on an ancient stone pedestal. The air around it hummed with power.
And when we touched it... everything changed.
A voice—deep, ancient, terrible—spoke to some of us. The voice of a dragon that has been sealed beneath Crimson Peak. Infernadax. He knows we have the ruby. He knows who we are. And he's waking up.
We took the ruby and ran. The mountain was shaking. Rocks falling. And behind us, we could feel HIM—aware, watching, amused.
Sprinkles couldn't bring herself to leave the ruby behind. Something about it calls to her. Dave feels drawn to it too, though for different reasons.
We reunited with the Fenwick family and their cart. Aldric offered to take us to Phandalin, a nearby town with walls and guards. He knows someone there who might be able to help us understand what we've found.
That night, camped on the road, we heard it: clicking sounds in the darkness. Something was watching us. Something that moved like a predator.
We woke to find something at the edge of camp: a wooden stake driven into the ground. On top sat a kobold skull—fresh, flesh stripped clean. Carved into the forehead: three claw marks forming a triangle. The dragon's mark.
Below it, scratched in Draconic: "WORTHY"
Hours later on the road, we heard it again: that clicking sound. And then he appeared— a dragonborn warrior unlike any we'd seen. Red and bronze scales. Strange armor with glowing lines. Mounted crossbows on his arms.
He could turn invisible. His bolts tracked us like living things. He spoke in Draconic: "The Great One wants his Heart returned. Prove you are worthy to keep it."
We fought. We wounded him. His blood glowed orange-gold like liquid fire. He fled, but not before delivering his message: "We will meet again."
After the ambush, we pushed hard and reached Phandalin by afternoon. Walls. Guards. Safety. The Fenwick family was finally home.
Aldric directed us to the Shrine of Luck to meet Sister Garaele, a cleric who studies ancient histories. If anyone could help us understand the ruby, it would be her.
Sister Garaele recognized the Crimson Heart immediately. And what she told us changed everything.
Sister Garaele showed us a map with five locations:
1. Seal of Stone (Crimson Peak) - BROKEN
We removed the ruby. The seal is gone.
2. Seal of Water (Weeping Depths) - WEAKENING
Underground rivers, 3 days east. Dragon cultists reported. Water glowing red at night.
3. Seal of Wind (Stormcrest Spire) - INTACT
Highest mountain peak, 5-6 days north. Perpetual storms.
4. Seal of Light (Radiant Temple) - WEAKENING
Ancient temple ruins, 4-5 days southeast. Still glows at sunrise.
5. Seal of Shadow (Umbral Vault) - INTACT
Beneath the Mere of Dead Men, 7-8 days west. Underwater access required.
Sister Garaele looked at Dave and said: "The halfling who helped seal Infernadax split their soul into five pieces—one for each seal, to bind them together."
She gave him a journal. Three hundred years old. Written by that same halfling cleric. The final entries describe the soul-splitting ritual and the pain of the sacrifice.
"As each seal breaks, Infernadax grows stronger," Sister Garaele warned us. "When all five break, he will be free. You must protect the remaining seals."
After everything we'd been through, Phandalin felt like a miracle. Warm food. Real beds. A fire that wasn't trying to kill us. Toblen Stonehill, the halfling innkeeper, welcomed us with a table near the hearth and only mildly panicked about the owlbear cubs.
Phandalin had more to offer than hot stew. As the evening unfolded, the town seemed to have been waiting for us — or at least, waiting for people like us. Connections we didn't know we had began to surface. Legacies we didn't know we carried.
One by one, we each had a moment. A conversation, a discovery, a vision. Something personal. Something that changed how we understand our place in all of this.
We were finishing dinner when the shouting started outside. A gang of thugs in red cloaks — the Redbrands — had an elderly gnome shopkeeper on the ground and were threatening to burn his shop if he didn't pay up.
We went outside. Someone threw Sprinkles through the door first.
Six Redbrand ruffians and their leader — a man with a glowing blue dagger — against the seven of us. The fight was chaotic, creative, and occasionally baffling.
Unpickled tried a non-standard approach to conflict resolution. It almost worked. Chad did not approve. The leader fell to a fire bolt and the rest scattered.
The shopkeeper survived. The Redbrands did not have a good night.
From the body of the Redbrand leader: a glowing blue dagger — magical, well-made — and a folded note that read: "No witnesses. — I.A."
Someone is giving the Redbrands orders. Someone with initials. Someone who doesn't want witnesses to whatever is happening in this town.