Scene 1: Recap with the Action Town Criers
Rhomande: O my beloved audience, it has been quite a time since we last checked in with each other. Preparations for my Insufferable Basterds’ triumphant return to Sahn Daskaar are well under way. It should only take another six and a half weeks until we have gathered the full might of our various attendants, vassals, monks, penguins, devout Scottalians, irresponsible magi, undead automata, and so forth. Once everybody has assembled in the Oak Vale Town Square, we shall call our rolls and set off for the capital city of the Empire. This time, we’re definitely not being irresponsible and nobody is planting alconut trees around the perimeter of Town Hall. And to further convince you not to peer too closely into my business affairs, I present Hera Laris and the Dipson Memorial Action Town Criers. What’s the news, Hera?
Hera: Thank you, Rhomande. Tonight we bring you news of an environmental disaster upon the world of Yaraí (yar-EYE-ee). Last night an earthquake rocked the Weyalar Jungle, registering over 7 and a half marks on the logarithmic scale. We go now to Engar Flamehand for more details.
Engar: Thank you, Hera. As you can see behind me, the village of Skree has been entirely wiped out by the quake. No survivors from the peaceful tribe of fruit-eating bat people have been located as of yet; however, no bodies have been found, either.
Hera: Engar, do you have any information on what did happen to the peaceful, fruit-eating bat-people of Weyalar?
Engar: Very little, Dame Laris. The last report from the Task Force that the Imperial Service Organization deployed to this world merely reads, “Bat in dangorc. Azu-orc-stone Cave safe.”
Hera: What is that even supposed to mean, Engar?
Engar: Well, Hera, the note seems to have been quilled by their bard, Jonorcthan Coultorc, who is well known for his position on remuneration for writing. I believe the official quote is, “Unless me sing or me get pay, me use as lilt-le word as me can, even for orcfficial purporcses.”
Hera: Well, perhaps the bat people have been relocated to the Azurestone Caverns.
Engar: Highly unlikely, Hera. A few days ago, an explosion caused the mouth of the cavern complex to collapse. The cause of said explosion is still under investigation by the local constabularies. Unfortunately, these constabularies hail from four different tribes, city-states, or whatever civic units they use here on Yaraí (yar-EYE-ee), so they’re more focused on determining who holds jurisdiction than upon investigation. And that attempt at jurisdictional determination looks to be deteriorating swiftly. I’m going to wrap up here and head back to the studio before things turn violent between the emissaries from Wolf Clan and Swamp Tribe. So, back to you, Hera!
Hera: Thank you, Engar. When we return, the Vengeful Ghost of Adanska Rothgeld will present us with the results of every sporting event played throughout the Empire in the past month. But first, a word from our sponsors.
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Skrump: Him majesty tell you for go buy The Mammoth King Brand ((Sfx: mammoth trumpet)) animal fast-shave burny-foam right now, even if you no think you need!
Rhomande: O noble members of my beloved audience, please do recline upon your gilded seats, liberally quaff your libations, inspire your pharmakoi, and adjust your listening devices that you may capture even the tiniest twitterings that waft past your exquisitely shaped ears at The 20-Sided Theatre.
Scene 2: The Jailor’s Journal
DM: You awaken in near-total darkness, with the only illumination coming from the lower landing on the stairwell, where you’ve built a fire and posted watches while the rest of the party slept. The guard post in the outer walls of Faíre Síoraí provided a decently defensible spot for you to bivouac, but now the time has come to delve deeper into the ruins, in hopes of finding an ancient Deep Elf raiding tunnel so you can escape to this world’s surface.