NARRATIVE ARC ONE: BLOODTIDE

Written by M.L Alexandra

I - BEST LAID PLANS

The Justicars convoy rode into the heart of Lamprow, an eerie stillness hanging over the rows of abandoned town houses that passed them. The grand facade of Mortimer Hall loomed above them as they set up a perimeter in the town centre, its faded grandeur a stark reminder of Lamprow’s history. Their mission was simple. Clear the hall, and search for survivors. Once secured, Mortimer Hall would serve as a base of operations to lead the evacuation effort and retake the town. 

The riftborn were led by First Blade Sevara, a storied hero of the distant Heimar Isles, and Scribe Novitiate Astra. Who was honestly just happy to be there; promising to excitedly chronicle the party’s exploits. 

They immediately uncovered a gruesome scene, as the Bloodkin had swept through the hall’s defences with ease. Broken bodies littered the grand entrance hall, as they uncovered the remains of the town guard’s last stand. All the while an eerie statue of the Goddess Velisara looked down upon them, her sceptre raised to the moon. They began to search Mortimer Hall, uncovering cryptic fragments that alluded to something buried deep beneath their feet. Magical paintings, lost tomes, and records of a famine that almost destroyed Lamprow 200 years ago. It soon became apparent that even before the bloodkin infestation, the town concealed many secrets. 

Despite this, their much more immediate concern was rescuing the few surviving townspeople who had taken shelter from the horde of pallid beasts. First- they rescued Tallis, a retired tiefling sellsword who Vivien-Jean shared some intensely platonic feelings about swordplay and righteous murder with. Then Elisa, a young elven healer from the church of Velisara who was desperately trying to keep everyone else alive and intact. Her sacred vow prohibited her from carrying weapons, but she offered to accompany the party and heal their wounds. Injecting them with a potent healing concoction whenever needed. 

After Kekeldra reckoned with some locked doors (beasts are easily drawn to the distinctive sound of eldritch blasts), they searched the Apothecary next and met two curious individuals. Jac, a half-elf apprentice hunter with a lot to prove, and Mary-Beth, a kindly orc farmer who was surprisingly optimistic given their situation. Jac (now known as Big Jac) had been bitten, and it was decided that a prompt amputation was needed to remedy this. Harold, Bruno and Eckra formed an incredibly unconventional surgical team and promised Jac greatness, before sedating him and chopping his sword arm off. Thus, Jac the Great, was born. 

Mary-Beth offered to carry Jac to the Justicars waiting below but warned the party of a bad smell coming from the desk before she left. Kekeldra and Harold proved to be investigators of the highest calibre, and found a corpse stuffed into the floorboards below. They exhumed the body of Mattias, the town’s alchemist, and made an alarming discovery. He had died days before the bloodkin attack, and his wounds seemed to have been inflicted by something still human. 

Some further sleuthing followed, and some more door-based violence. 

Intent to get to the bottom of this, they finally confronted the surly human Mayor- Julius Thornton (or Mr. Mayor to his friends). With some convincing they were able to get into his quarters which he had barricaded himself inside, but he seemed just as bewildered as they were. There was a sense that he was concealing something, but before they could fully unravel what, a piercing scream rang out from below. 

II - GODS BELOW 

The party descended to find Mary-Beth in the throes of a violent transformation. They worked to bring her fever down, but it was clear that she had been infected somehow. Sevara had more bad news to offer: others had been infected in a similar fashion, with no obvious wounds. Her search of the perimeter had also uncovered ventilation ducts leading to  a structure below, with no obvious entrance.

She tasked the riftborn with finding a way to reach this subterranean structure, so that they could secure the town hall and prevent any further surprises. 

They investigated the remainder of Mortimer Hall, uncovering the site of a bloody ritual as Noni employed some creative polymorphing to get inside of the ventilation system. Every mystery solved presented more questions- but it soon became apparent that there was a cultist amongst the survivors. And they were getting help from the outside. 

Having unravelled the secret of the Goddess Statue, they found a hidden ritual chamber inside the Archives. Inside was a crudely carved statue depicting a humanoid figure with form arms and long twisting antlers. Kekeldra and Bruno identified this as Lorn, a lesser god of harvest- often revered by the superstitious inhabitants of the frontier towns. A heavy steel hatch marked with the Thornton Family Crest led into the inky darkness below. All that remained was to descend. 

Below, the riftborn were soon drawn into a twisted game as the hatch locked behind them and they were knocked unconscious by a potent chemical fog. They awakened to find themselves stripped of their weapons and equipment, being injected with samples of tainted blood by a figure wearing heavy surgical leathers and a rebreather mask. They promised to share the love of the formless Outer God of Blood, even if the people of Lamprow didn’t deserve such compassion for their sins. 

They tasked the party with completing a series of trials, so that they might find ‘absolution’. What followed was a harrowing ordeal, as a clock began ticking down, and they were forced to mutilate themselves in twisted acts of worship to proceed. Flint the Blue sacrificed a hand, and Harold had vast swathes of his flesh eaten by Bloodkin larvae. Through these trial chambers, they met Quintus. Another healer from the Church of Velisara- a softly spoken dragonborn priest who was missing a hand. 

Eventually they emerged, and discovered the bandaged and festering body of Lorn, bound within the darkness below. They freed this captive god and received its blessing, discovering the sordid truth of its imprisonment. 200 years ago, the town of Lamprow was sliding towards oblivion; ravaged by famine and disease. In a desperate bid to survive, Juliana Thornton had summoned and bound the fledgling god to the chambers below. Whilst it would not (or simply couldn’t) mend their dying crops, she discovered that it’s body would regenerate from even the most grievous wounds… 

She exploited this to feed its flesh to the starving people of Lamprow. The village prospered, but the material veil remained weakened from the grievous act. Once uncovered, this made Lamprow the perfect site to begin work on another bloody ritual. 

The final trial to retrieve the holy tome needed to escape fractured the minds of Eckra and Harold, feeding on their psychosis and paranoia. Eckra brutally killed Quintus, believing him to be the mysterious ‘Exile’ behind the bloodkin infestation, only to find Astra’s broken body at her feet. The tome the were searching for was little more than his trusty journal. 

With this blood spilled in supplication, the final trial was complete. 

Shaken by this ordeal, the riftborn emerged and put Astra to rest. Sevara revealed what they already knew. One of the survivors was working against them. Infecting the wounded, and sabotaging their escape efforts. With the city now ablaze, and the horde closing in, they had little time to uncover who the traitor was. Their two prime suspects: Elisa and Julius. Both were clearly concealing something, so they pitted the two survivors against each other to see who snapped first. Julius revealed that he had known about the creatures lurking in the woods for weeks, but had concealed this to prevent panic from breaking out, even as Jac risked his life to bring back proof. A valuable insight, but not what they were looking for. 

Elisa’s temperament began to shift, pushing the advantage, her well-worn facade slipping at last. Eckra used her newfound connection to the Outer God of Blood to root out her murderous impulses and moved to restrain her, only for the priestess to use the razor concealed in her golden ring to lacerate herself. She vanished in a haze of blood, as communication with Adrestia was reestablished. 

Sevara dropped to a knee, wounded from repelling the latest assault and revealed the news. In little over an hour, the town would be obliterated by an Antimatter Lance to contain the infection. 

III - BLOODTIDE 

With the Guilds falling back to Mortimer Hall to evacuate, the Justicars, broken and bloodied- had to be the last line of defence. Reinforced by the ‘Damned Third’ regiment of the Pale Legion, they fortified Mortimer Hall to fend off the encroaching horde. 

What followed was a pitched battle, in which the riftborn fought to their very last. Bruno soared above the carnage, mending their broken bodies as they repelled wave after wave of the bloodkin. The aptly named Old Man Battalion, comprised of Flint the Blue, Harold and Tallis formed a vanguard- repelling the beasts attempting to reach the survivors barricaded inside. Just when the battle seemed to be turning in their favour, a towering beast lumbered into the square, pulverising Tallis in a single blow. 

The riftborn had to use everything at their disposal to fell this beast, but eventually drove back the horde as the sun rose over Lamprow. Their celebration would be short lived however, as Elisa appeared amongst the carnage and offered Eckra the chance to serve the Exile, the Outer God of Blood’s chosen instrument of divine reckoning. She had met the wandering healer whilst tending to the sick at the church of Velisara, though he went by the name Quintus then. She soon became one of his most faithful disciples- helping him orchestrate the outbreak. She wished to extend this compassion and glorious purpose, to spare them any further suffering, but Eckra refused. 

‘I have a purpose. My God brought me here to stop people like you’. 

Elisa transformed into a towering beast, descending upon the party with lighting reflexes. Harold, on the cusp of death himself, lunged in to protect his comrades one last time, and was torn in half by Elisa- his bloody remains thrown across the square. In his dying moments, an apparition of the Witness appeared, but he refused it’s call- unwilling to sacrifice another piece of himself. Memories of his family from a distant world, and the companions he had made flashed through his mind as he slipped away for a final time. Leaving Flint the sole survivor of their ragtag squad. 

Against all odds, the party was able to defeat Elisa, who had grown reckless in her devotion despite the rising sun. Her beastial form stripped away, she smiled as the sun rose above her. Eckra demanded that she explain her actions, but she merely relished the fact that the two would never be separated thanks to the tainted blood they share. A small part of her would live on in the paladin, taking root once more. 

The final blow was struck, and at last the convoy retreated- the town of Lamprow, and the ravenous horde shrinking behind them. Though in critical condition, they had managed to rescue Mayor Julius and Jac (the two sharing an uncanny resemblance once brought together) along with the now comatose Mary-Beth.  

From a pitch black stigmata above, the Antimatter Lance descended. Erasing the town of Lamprow and all of its buried secrets.  

Written by Philip Kelly

I - INITIATION 

Led by First Huntress Cara, six Adrestians left the town of Lamprow at dusk. Their goal: to map the surrounding dense forest and look for any clues pertaining to the recent disappearances of both Seeker scouts and townsfolk. Coming across an abandoned caravan cavalcade, devoid of all life, they began investigating for any signs of what might have happened. Discovering a horrific writhing mass of flesh and blood contained within one, Maloven suddenly became drenched in its blood. When the party removed a silver dagger wedged in the creature’s…head (?), it sprang to life in one last attempt to preserve itself. With this discovery beyond comprehension, Cara set the party on following a trail of footprints leading deeper into the forest while she raced back to Lamprow to report back and assist in the fortification of the town’s Northern perimeter.

Moving slowly through the dense wood, they eventually came upon a stone circle; bearing witness to the most horrific scene of torture and transformation. With several townsfolk and Seeker scouts bound to chains between the stones, the party watched in terror as a twisted mage started pouring cursed vials of blood onto the chained individuals, transforming them into horrific chrysalis for bestial Bloodkin to emerge. Springing into action to break their chains, the party found the prisoners slow to move; caught in a catatonic state, as the Blood Mage continued to transform more and more unwilling victims. Quickly overrun by Bloodkin, the party made a retreat for Laprow, almost leaving Sylus behind as he shook off paralysis in the final seconds. Successful in saving ten prisoners from the ritual site, it didn’t feel like enough.

II - CEREMONY

Reconveying with the other Guilds at Lamprow and reporting back, there was to be little rest for the party. First Huntress Cara issued a new order; set up a defence perimeter deeper in the forest holding back and thinning out the number of Bloodkin descending on the town. Two of the townsfolk saved from the ritual site, Lenore (an accomplished elven hunter), and Garm, (excitable gnomish tinkerer and Seeker scout), suggested heading to the Killdelver Lodge three miles North of the town. Here the party found bear traps and snares, concocting a plan to thin some Bloodkin numbers and then draw as many as they could to an under construction barn. The barn would then be destroyed by detonating a vial of Refined Lyria, taking out as many Bloodkin as possible. However, preparations did not quite go according to plan and the area quickly became overrun. Badhbh, using their Kenku mimicry, tried in vain to draw the Bloodkin to the rigged barn but overwhelmed, the party had to retreat to the main lodge. Swarmed by Bloodkin, Rain nearly fell to the creature’s pack tactics but with a bellowing order from fellow soldier Maloven and aerial overwatch from Aasimar Zerxus, Rain pushed on to the safety of the lodge. It was then that they realised that the lodge was not abandoned, as its blood infected owners, Bragi and Storn Killdelver emerged from the lodge’s cellar. Dealing with threats from both inside and out, the party found themselves cut off from Lamprow, with no choice but to buckle down and try to survive until morning. 

And that’s when the call came in.

III - SACRIFICE 

Already cut off, the group was asked to put the safety of others before themselves and head to a nearby ritual site that may be spawning Bloodkin at an unimaginable frequency. Take this site out and they may buy the Northern perimeter of Lamprow enough respite that they can safely get more townsfolk to the evac before the Antimatter Lance hits in three hours. Lenore wanted to head back to Lamprow, keen to be reunited with her mentee, Jac, who she had been seeking out before getting caught by the Blood Mage. Attempts to get her to stay fell on deaf ears as tension and suspicion rippled through the lodge; Rain had been bitten by one of the Bloodkin, leaving a wound unlike anything Badhbh had seen before. With a blade to Rain’s neck, Katrina asked what would happen if he turned into one of those things while on the battlefield. “I can’t promise you I won’t”, he replied. “But I promise you I’ll get the job done.”

Lenore tended to the mutilated bodies of her dead friends, Bragi and Storn, hoping it would offer their souls some reprieve. Maloven offered her help with this, and with one more last ditch attempt, convinced her that it would be better for Jac if she stayed with the party to help them on their mission. She agreed but her attitude towards the group remained hardened. 

Under a blood red dawn sky, the party made final preparations and left the lodge; the spawn site perhaps their final destination. Getting the drop on the Bloodkin Priest and Bloodkin Thralls tending to the site, it seemed that the gods were finally shining down favourably on the group. That is until it started raining down fireballs. Destroying incubation sacs with the reclaimed Refined Lyria, eldritch blasts and some well placed silver tipped crossbow bolts was enough to distract the Bloodkin Priest and allow both Meloi and Katrina to get the drop on them, albeit both with very different goals. As Katrina moved with swashbuckler grace, springing from the trees, they dealt devastating blow after devastating blow while Meloi tapped into the Weave itself, using their arcane knowledge to disable the ritual circle powering the site. Both with final flourishes of their own, Katrina felled the Priest as Meloi reversed the very flow of magic coursing through the area. Before the group had a second to celebrate, they had a very uninvited guest arrive at the party; the Blood Mage from the ritual site. Knowing they would be quickly overpowered, the party split, unsure if they would see each other back at Laprow.

Coming in from different directions, but reunited, the party arrived at Lamprow with minutes remaining before the Lance struck. It was not to be a hero's welcome. The Northern perimeter held on by a thread, Bloodkin outnumbering the defending Seekers nearly three to one. The objective was crystal clear: cut a path through and get to the extraction convoy. Tired, bloodied and drained of all resources the party waded into the chaos. And in this chaos their numbers became thinner. Steamrolled by a pack of Bloodkin and cut off from the others, Badhbh fell in battle. Stranded above on the fortified walls of the town, all anyone could do is watch as she was ripped asunder. Even if it was too late, Sylus, nursing his own fresh bite mark, pushed on to retrieve Badhbh. Aided in no small part by Lenore holding sentinel at the wall, the group cut through the sea of Bloodkin, carrying Badhbh’s lifeless form to the armoured convoy. Just as the convoy made to leave, they bore witness to the tiniest glimmer of hope; as Lenore dashed towards the convoy, a Kenku named Badhbh opened their mouth and asked “What happened?”

Written by Maxim Melton

I - THE ASCENT

The convoy surged into Lamprow under a veil of swirling ash, where the once-living streets were now smothered by bloodkin hordes. The Tower loomed above. The Occultists had one mission: secure the eastern quarter and restore communications before the town was swallowed whole. Led by Apollon, the guild emissary, they stormed toward the tower square, carriages wreathed in arcane wards. But the bloodkin were waiting, swarming from the dark like flies to a corpse.

A plan formed amidst the chaos: Requisition a carriage. Drive it full speed through the square. Use it as a battering ram against the bloodkin’s endless assault. From within and without the carriage, weapons and spells rained from every window.

But fate had other plans. Helwir, unable to stay the horses from spooking, gripped the reins. With a sickening lurch, the carriage jackknifed, hurling bodies into the melee. Only Nyssa, the triton swashbuckler, darted through the wreckage unscathed, rolling with acrobatic prowess and making swift work of the Tower's locked doors.

Inside, the silence was deafening. The raging battle outside seemed a distant memory as they began their ascent through darkened halls, each floor filled with broken, sabotaged machinery. Signs of violence lingered, but nothing was looted—only destroyed. Sulia’s fate weighed heavy on them, but haste gave way to caution when Alphonsus was struck by a shadow, a flicker at the edge of his vision. Wounded but alive, they lit torches, the orange glow casting flickering shadows as they crept upward, methodically locking doors behind them to keep unseen horrors at bay.

At the top, they found her—Communicant Sulia, nearly collapsed and surrounded by the sprawling, intricate magical array that promised the town’s salvation. The vast domed chamber, once designed to amplify her telepathic reach, was fast likely to become her tomb. Corruption pulsed through her veins, but her voice was calm as she instructed them:

“The arrays… I can fix them… But you need to find the remedy. The alchemy labs… below.”

As Ser Tenacity fought off bloodkin in one side of the floor, Maud uncovered hidden compartments laced with deadly poison traps. Tenacity solved the riddle of the Drider Venom by drinking almost every vial first, consuming numerous poisons in the process. A creative use of Bloodkin blood revealed which bottles held Holy Water, and soon, with Alphonsus guiding the brewing process like a consummate chef, a cure was concocted.

With moments to spare, they returned to Sulia. She drank the viscous potion, a grim smile crossing her lips.

“You may not have saved me… but you’ve bought me time.”

II - THE STORM

An hour passed—a quiet, brutal reprieve. Auxiliary forces from Adrestia arrived, bringing reinforcements: a Hexblade, a Paladin, and a Barbarian. The storm had not broken yet, but the winds were rising.

A plan was formed.

Gosch the barbarian would collapse sections of the spiral staircase, slowing the bloodkin's inevitable climb. Nyssa, the agile swashbuckler, boarded up windows, reinforcing their position from any more bloodkin approaching from the outside. Aleph, the warlock, stood over a workstation, feverishly brewing Hellfire Oil. Ser Tenacity created choke points, blockades of debris and furniture to slow the oncoming storm, while Alanna the paladin crafted a mischievous trap—Holy Water suspended above a doorway, ready to douse any fool who dared enter. Upstairs, Alphonsus used his strength and know-how to assist a faint Sulia in repairing the various lenses and arrays in the resonance chamber.  

The quiet stretched, thick and suffocating. The distant gibbering of bloodkin grew louder, a rising crescendo of madness. Then, it began.

The bloodkin swarmed the tower, a seething mass of pale flesh and dark hunger. A tidy method of eradication pioneered by Ser Tenacity proved very successful for Gosch as smaller creatures were hurled through the windows by his brutal strength, their bodies plummeting 150 feet to the plaza below. Larger beasts were ripped apart by fire and blade, their faces melting under Holy Water, Hellfire and spells. The once-majestic tower became a death trap as fire began to spread.

But the real horror came from the shadows. A predator, unseen but felt—an assassin, wreathed in mesmeric darkness, stalking them all along. It struck without warning, pinning Ser Tenacity to the floor. The air turned red with blood, but even in death, she would not be silenced. Eyes clouding over with pure blackness, she rose from the dead, just as monstrous juggernauts burst through the floor, raining destruction upon the resonance chamber.

Sulia, wounded but relentless, worked through the chaos, repairing the arrays whilst the Occultist’s vanguard held fast against the massive beasts, creating human shields to give Sulia the seconds she needed to complete her work. Bloodkin howled as they smashed through the walls, but by some miracle, the Occultists held. The distress call was sent, the message echoing into the void.

A final, chilling response crackled through the air.

"By ordinance of The Nine, to contain the contagion an antimatter lance shall unmake Lamprow. You have three hours before the town is removed."

III - THE FLIGHT

There was no time to hesitate. With the message broadcast to the other guilds, the vanguard had to flee.

Whilst Sulia’s body was broken, her body still showing signs of corruption, her mind was sharp until the end. The Occultists, battered and bloodied, had one last ally drafted their cause: El, a druid with little knowledge of the horrors below but no shortage of courage.

Fires blazed, smoke choked the halls, and bloodkin swarmed. Every attempt at protecting themselves previously now become a deadly obstacle that separated the party from the relative safety of the ground floor. In a gauntlet run, walls were smashed apart as the Occultists carved their way downward, battling through hordes with brute force, spells, and sheer desperation. But the inferno was consuming the tower, and Sulia was caught in its jaws. Whilst holding off a blade-handed bloodkin to give others time to flee, she fell.

The survivors dashed for Mortimer Hall, navigating through the ruins of Lamprow. Cutting through fog and shadows, the shadowy assassin from before awaited them with one final ambush in the dark. She hurled blades and collapsed buildings in her pursuit, leaving the vanguard on the brink of death but Aleph, with the last of his eldritch power, froze her in place. With this last handful of seconds a sudden chance of hope, a combination of supercharged hellfire oil and El’s improvised bomb rained down on the paralysed assassin, and the vanguard fled into the night for Mortimer Hall, barely escaping with their lives.

As they reached safety, the weight of their sacrifice settled in. Without their efforts, without the risks they took in that doomed tower, no one would have survived. Sulia’s distress call bought the town precious time to evacuate before the antimatter lance fell, obliterating Lamprow from existence.

Written by Rory Lever

I - UNEARTHED

Entering Lamprow near the Town Hall, a dozen Mechanists of the 32nd Recon Division led by Fabricator-General Moranna were joined by an assortment of adventurers; Xanthin, Lymric, Cloud, Bernard, Snowberry and Oria. Fabricator-General Moranna explained they were being sent to investigate reports of survivors barricaded inside the Church of Velisara. 

Accompanying them was Revered Second-class Historian Kaylix, in pursuit of the final resting place of Saint Moira. A noted figure from Lamprow's past, legends told of how Moira discovered an old world walker, successfully reactivated and used its power to aid Lamprow’s security, growth and prosperity. Records recently uncovered suggested that Moira’s remains were entombed within the Church and Kaylix hoped her mech lay hidden somewhere nearby.

As the other convoys headed out, the group noticed remnants of scattered townsfolk attending a makeshift triage centre, set up in the brief respite between attacks. There, one kindly looking old woman offered drinks from the town well, pressing potion-like vials of it into adventures hands muttering “The blessed waters will keep you safe, take them, please! Apothecary Quintus promised me they have minor regenerative properties.” Taking the vials, the group identified that while the waters did possess healing properties, they also held traces of a strange toxin.

Reaching the Church of Velisarra, the party were met with a grim sight. At the base of a statue, corpses of both Pale Legion and strange, pale beastial monstrosities lay fallen, piled high atop each other, mangled and butchered in a desperate final clash, the head of a Pale Legion captain impaled on the statues spear. Beyond, a trail of blood led towards the church doors. Investigating, the party decided to burn all the bodies before heading in. When passing the statue, they saw on the back of the pale legion captain’s helm the symbol of an eye had been drawn in black ink. 

Inside, the rest of the slaughtered garrison of Pale Legion were hung from the rafters like marionettes, limbs pulled at strange angles, their bodies and armour marked by occult symbols written in blood and ink. Below, the pews were broken and scattered to either side, in order to make room for an immense runic circle, 20ft by 20ft, drawn in black ink that expanded around a morbid effigy; the bodies of 13 guards stitched together, hands raised up as if in a dark mockery of prayer, and at the centre, impaled on three overlapping iron spikes, the missing body of the Guard Captain.

Investigating the ritual, the party discovered that each guard had been completely drained of blood. Circular imprints left around the central effigy suggested that cylindrical objects had once been placed here, and were now missing. Turning to the symbols and writing within the ritual circle, the party tried to decipher its mix of iconography, a combination of runic script and pictographic symbols. They identified a lifeless tree marked by an open eye whose roots spread like tentacles, numerous depictions of rats and runic inscriptions for “Blood” written in Abyssal and Infernal. Finally, they identified an invocation written in a chthonic script, Deep Speech, that read “Hear us, oh Lord of Crimson Tides. Through these sacrifices, we draw your eye down. Bless these waters! Make sacred this offering of scarlet tears! Let the cups floweth over and your will run red. Welcome those who drink. Welcome those who taste its iron. Embrace them, and make manifest the Bloodtide.” 

Under the church altar, the party discovered the entrance to the crypts, lit by lyria-powered magical torches. Descending in search of survivors, they arrived at an intersection to find three unconscious figures slumped at its base. Behind it, stood an immense sealed door, decorated with iconography of St Moira and her followers. Kaylix immediately began setting for equipment and looking for a way through the door, while Snowberry rushed to tend to the figures, rousing them from their slumber.

The trio relayed how they’d been told by Apothecary Quintus to seek refuge in the church if ever they were in peril. Choosing to send the survivors back up top, the party were suddenly plunged into darkness as the lyria-powered lamps around them failed. In the dark, they fought back scuttling bloodkin thralls and were also harried by a strange masked figure who fired upon them from the shadows and just as quickly vanished. Eventually, they culled the tide and the lights returned. 

Leaving Kaylix to his work, they continued their search for survivors, discovering a hidden laboratory through a false wall connected to an underground stream. Inside alchemical burners, reinforced vials, pressure chambers and centrifuges formed a vast production site. There, they found the missing cylindrical canisters from the ritual, now empty, already processed and fed into Lamprows fresh water supply. 

In a side room, the party discovers the imprisoned veteran Seeker scout Leander chained to a wall. Rescuing him, he revealed that a figure had arrived in the town months prior in the guise of a healer; Apothecary Quintus, who had secretly been indoctrinating townspeople and polluting Lamprow’s water supply with ritually tainted blood. Grabbing research notes from around the lab Leander stated that they may be able to find a way to counteract the Bloodtide, if they can get these notes to Guildmaster Riven in time.

II - GATEKEEPER 

Receiving the townwide communication that a second wave was incoming, the party returned to the doors of the church just in time to see a reinforced carriage beset with Bloodkin barrelling towards them. Inside, they glimpsed a trio of figures, more adventure reinforcements in the form of Carris, Nyah & Auron. Behind the carriage, a growing tide of bloodkin raced towards the church. Working together, the two teams of adventurers cleaved a path through the bloodkin, getting everyone into the church just as Moranna activated a temporary ward, holding the amassing wave at bay. 

Announcing they had an hour to make their defensive preparations, a communication from Kaylix announced “I’ve found it!” Catching their new party members up on the situation, the party once again descended to meet with Kaylix. Inside the breached mausoleum door, they see Kaylix bartering with a huge, swollen creature, once humanoid but now heavily mutated, standing in front of an alter. Set into the alter at an angle, a lacquered dark wood coffin with a glass lid displayed the skeletal remains of St Moira within. 

Bartering with the creature who revealed himself to be Borok, the Last Tomb Keeper and final acolyte of Moira, the party feigned supplication, offering songs and words of reverence to the fallen saint. Kaylix identified that altar itself as Moira’s walker, the coffin being the cockpit she’d been entombed within. 

While Xanthian, Oria and Nyah covertly attempted to repair and start the walker, Lymric, Auron and Carris bartered with Borok, appealing to his scattered sanity and love for the departed Moira to convince him to let them use the mech in the upcoming defence. Succeeding on both fronts the party returned to church with moments to spare before the mechanists wards failed and the bloodtide swarmed them. 

Oria piloted the walker to fend off one enormous bloodkin, which revealed that it could speak and demanded they hand over Leander. Refusing, the surviving mechanists and party weathered the tide of enemies, facing more red and white bloodkin alike. Amidst the battle, two figures appeared at various moments, a bow wielding assassin who exchanged arrows with Nyah and a robed mage who bolstered the bloodkin forces. Fending off the interlopers as well as the swarms of bloodkin, the party survived the assault, with Carris slaying the enormous speaking bloodkin, shattering it’s skull to reveal a smaller, distinctly human skull within.

Once more receiving a town wide communication, Moranna grimly informed the party that an anti-matter lance was being hurled at Lamprow by the Nine. To escape, they’d need to somehow punch through the waves of bloodkin and dash towards the evacuation point at Mortimer Hall. 

III - EXODUS 

Strategising together, they enlisted Borok’s aid once more, convincing him to allow them to ride atop him and the walker to escape. Deciding a distraction was needed, through enormous group effort, they managed to convince a large mouse to scurry back and forth across the church organ, drawing bloodkin away from them as they raced out the back of the church. 

Securing themselves as best they could atop the walker and Borok’s immense frame, the party raced across the church graveyards, almost making a clean break. However, more enormous, meandering bloodkin noticed their flight and began to pursue, throwing lesser bloodkin at them. Although half the party on Borok managed to succeed in fending off the attacks, the robed mage appeared once more, and empowered the bloodkin assaulting St Moira’s walker, leaving them restrained, held back and unable to move.

Through concentrated effort on breaking the mages spell, the group finally managed to free the mech and made a desperate dash to catch up. Together, the party riding atop their makeshift mounts dashed across Lamprow’s market square, fending off more bloodkin before the speaking one suddenly reformed from the mass of bloodkin present. 

Recognising that the failing walker wouldn’t last, Moranna ordered everyone to disembark, ripped a crystaline matrix from the walker’s core and handed it, Kaylix and Leander to the party. Telling them it had been an honour, Moranna supercharged the walker’s core, sending it barreling into the swarm of pursuing bloodkin, followed shortly after by Borok and herself. As the party fled on foot towards Mortimer Hall, behind them, an immense arcane detonation signalled the end of their companions.

With Leander and Kaylix in tow, the party made their final push, breaking through the lines of red and white bloodkin separating them from the extraction point. While some of them fell briefly, they were pulled back from the brink by each other and together pushed on to reach Mortimer House in the nick of time. Leander and his notes secured, the party watched as the antimatter lance annihilated Lamprow, its secrets and story.