The party emerged from the ballroom; the cryptex clutched tight in Rance's hand.

“We should probably get back to the tavern.” Rance said “to, if nothing else, get a little sleep. We can also see if we can find Grimble anywhere, but I doubt he will be there this late.”

Lucian glanced up at the sky, the moon hanging high. “It must be late. When we were walking to the manor; it was just dusk. Hey Rance, on the way back can I see the cryptex? I think I can make out the runes on it.”

Rance hands over the small metal box.

Lucian turns the small dull metal box with nine dials on the top that spin with different symbols on each dial in his hands. On the front of the box there is an inscription embossed that is in an infernal script. Lucian parses out the infernal and it says. “Forever I Burn.”

Lucian looks at the party. “The box says Forever I Burn. That must be a clue to open it. Anyone have any ideas?”

Rory glances at Lucian. “Shouldn’t we give the box thing to Grimble? I mean he is the one that sent us to cleanse the ghosts.”

Rance speaks back up, “You know. I don't think we need to even tell him about the box. I mean he never said anything about retrieving treasure for him. Just that we needed to wipe out the ghosts which we did. Plus…” Rance now said with a conspiratorial tone. “Whatever is inside of this could be dangerous. We can just be giving nukes to a random guy.”

“Brimstone!” Kainith then exclaimed.

“What?” Rory asked

“Brimstone.” Kainith repeated. “I think the key to opening the box is brimstone. It’s nine characters and meets the requirement of the clue. You know, Forever I Burn. Just like all the tales tell, in the dusty old tomes that talk about the hells.”

Lucian like a flash, his hands dancing across the dials, spins them until the word brimstone is spelled in infernal runes.

“Click”

“I think it’s open guys!” Lucian exclaimed

As he opened the box his excitement faded to confusion.”It’s a bunch of glowing golden strings?”

Kainith gasped “No way! Lemme see them!” He bounded closer to Lucian, yanking the box from his grasp.

“These are amazing. Look..” He took a string out and pointed at it. “You see the ridges on this string?” He hurriedly put that one away and pulled out a different string “And see this one? It’s a little bit smaller around!”

Rance looked at Kainith with an exasperated look on his face. “Okay, yeah so? It’s a box of golden string. Do you think it will at least sell for a decent amount?”

Kainith looked offended. “We will not be selling these.” Kainith closes the box and puts it in a pocket in his jacket. He then reaches around and pulls his lute in front of him. “Those strings go on here.” He plucks a few strings in a melody. “When Lucian said there were just golden strings I hoped they were what I thought they were. These bad boys…” he pulls the box back out of his pocket. “...are the Avengers Strings of Power or at least that’s what some bard in Cainite called them. Legend says there were very few created and they make stringed instruments and the music they play more powerful.”

Lucian piped up “I mean that is just legend do you really think some golden string could really contain magic like that?”

Kainith replied. “I do. Just a few days ago if you told me a colorful rock could teleport you between planes I would have called that crazy. Compared to that, these strings are nothing but I do think they will really help us on our adventure.”

“Well if that's the case we should be displaying them around in the open in such an easy to steal box.” Rance noted. “Plus look right ahead.” Rance pointed at the now familiar sign of the Exploding Tankard. “We should check for Grimble and then go to bed.”

Once inside the tavern the party scanned the dusty and now completely empty drinking room and decided to head up to bed. The night passed without much fanfare and in the morning when they woke up the party made their way downstairs to the main room of the tavern.
“Sven!” Kainith shouted. “What do you have for breakfast this morning?”

“Just got some fresh sausages made early this morning and some eggs that were laid yesterday.” The barkeep responded.

Rance, still mostly asleep, put a hand up with four fingers raised. “Can we get four. Please? It was a long night.”

“I noticed you guys still weren’t back when I shuttered the place last night. I got four on order for you.” Sven motioned to a kobold the party had not seen before, who then hurriedly sprinted into a room the party assumed was the kitchen.

Just as the party got to a booth the door to the tavern swung open ever so slowly revealing the hunter Grimble. The old man walked towards the table with an unwavering swagger all of the sudden that seemed out of character for him. 

“Oh good! You guys are awake.” Grimble stated. “How did it go last night? I saw you guys making your way to the manor last night.”

Rory snorted. “You didn’t exactly tell us what we were up against.”

The hunter smiled. “I said ghosts right? There were ghosts, weren't there?”

Lucian turned towards the hunter. “I mean yeah technically but they really weren't the issue. Whatever. That’s not the issue at hand anymore. About our reward?”

“Ah yes, of course. Here.” Grimble pulled a tattered scroll from his long coat and pushed Lucian over. He unfurled the scroll onto the table. On the scroll was an ancient map with faded ink.

“You know it’s odd you said you were looking for a place called serpents maw. This map and you guys are the only time I have ever heard of that but look.” He puts his finger down on the map in an area surrounded by mountains. “See Serpent’s Maw.” Grimble then ran his finger along a line back to a river where the map ended. “That river is to the west of Fallwind. You have to be weary. As you get closer you will notice it will become oppressive. There is something in that mountain range that even the hunters won’t explore.”

“About my coin?” Rory questioned.

“I literally just learned you guys completed what I needed you to do so no I haven’t recommended you yet.” Grimble sighed.

“Okay you better get to it then.” Rory turned in his seat towards Sven. “Sven I’ll be expecting mail please hold onto it until I get back.”

Sven just glanced at the table and gave a thumbs up. Rory turned back towards the hunter. “You can send my letter of invitation here.”

Grimble just looked down and shook his head. “Here take this.” Grimble handed the map to Kainith. “I’m going to report back that the contract is completed.” Grimble slid out of the booth waving at Sven before he left the tavern.

“Well it looks like we have a hell of a journey in front of us so we better get a move on.’ Rory said.

“Hold on, shouldn't we talk about the whole oppression and danger thing?” Rance said.

“I’m sure we will be fine. We dealt with stuff the hunters already wouldn’t deal with. I'm sure it’s not as bad as legend says.” Kainith mused.

“Rory’s right we should go. I really want to get this gem found so I can finally be done with the whole demon thing.” Lucian fretted.

With that the party finished their breakfast and set out. They headed west of Fallwind until they came across the river Singeer.

“This is the one on the map.” Kainith who was reading the map stated.

The party crossed the bridge and continued following the map for the majority of the morning and into the late afternoon. The grassy plains that Falwind and Kernston were situated in slowly faded into the browns and grays of mountains. The rhythmic crunch of boots on scree became their unwelcome soundtrack. The only other sounds that dared to pierce the oppressive silence were the mournful cries of unseen birds, their mournful wails echoing through the desolate landscape like keening spirits. Each cry seemed to carry a message of warning.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the horizon shifted. A jagged wall of rock, its peaks like shattered teeth against the bruised sky, rose in the distance. The air grew colder, a damp chill seeping into their bones. A sickly purple mist clung to the valley floor below, obscuring the details of the landscape in an unsettling shroud. The skeletal remains of what were once trees clawed skyward.

Kainith now held the map at an odd angle. “Well, I’m pretty sure, if I’m reading this correctly, is called the Valley of Decay. So it seems like a really good place to set up camp.”

Rance sighed, “I really don't want to stop here. There has to be a better spot ahead. We are in the wide open.” Rance spun and pointed at the mountains and the jagged peaks that surrounded them like a bowl.

“I can promise you this is the best spot. I don’t see any wildlife around here so we just need to set up camp and take turns on watch. It’s getting very dark and it’s just going to get worse.” Kainith stamped his foot.

“I agree with Kainith Rance.” Rory stated “Lucian?”

“Kainith has been reading the map thus far and led us right. Look, Rance, I'll even take first watch. Get some food and some sleep. We all need to be max capability when we go for this gem.”

The party took some time and set up a couple of tents to prepare for the night. Lucian took some time to start a fire using some of the rotted and gnarled wood with some infernal fire. The party took time to eat some old stale rations and tell stories around the campfire while it got darker. The party then took turns on watch with Lucian first. The night passed without much excitement. Kainith was the last person on watch and the party woke up to him gently playing his lute. Because of the new strings the party woke up feeling well rested even though the ground was hard and rocky and the air was cold.

The party set out to continue to follow the map in the morning after a quick ration. As the continued and morning turned to afternoon the relentless sun beat down mercilessly, turning their skin to leather and their throats parched.  Then, it came. A guttural shriek, raw and primal, ripped through the oppressive stillness. It sent shivers down their spines. From the swirling mist, figures emerged. Goblins, yes, but unlike any they had encountered before. Their skin was an unsettling shade of purple, like a bruise left to fester under a sickly moon. Their eyes, devoid of iris or pupil, glowed with a malevolent hunger that sent a primal fear coursing through the party.

With a chorus of snarls and clicks, the goblins charged. Rance reacted first. He danced through the fray like a wraith. His daggers, glinting coldly in the dim light, left crimson trails in their wake, finding the weak points in the goblins' defenses with deadly accuracy.

“Why are there goblins here?” Rance yelled.

Rory roared a challenge and met the charge head-on. 

“Come on!”

He became an immovable wall of steel, his axe a whirlwind of destruction. Each swing carried the weight of his fury, cleaving through goblin ranks and sending mangled bodies flying. Yet, their numbers were overwhelming. For every goblin that fell, two seemed to take its place, their ferocity fueled by some unseen malevolence.

Kainith saw the tide turning against them. With a flourish, he strummed his lute, unleashing a cacophony of discordant notes. The goblins recoiled, their attack faltering as the sound assaulted their senses. It was a desperate attempt, a discordant symphony in the face of raw brutality, but it bought them precious moments as some of the goblins fell to their knees giving Rory and Rance time to keep the numbers down.

Lucian raised his hands. Infernal energy crackled at his fingertips, coalescing into a radiant sphere of pure hellfire. He unleashed it with a cry. The blast of fire slammed into the goblin horde, searing flesh and sending them flying. It torched an entire flank of the goblin horde.

“Hell yeah!” Get them Lucian” Kainith shouted.

“Hey watch the fire! Rory roared.

Rance weaved through the chaos, his daggers flashing in and out. Rory roared like a wounded beast, each swing of his axe a defiant act against the encroaching goblins. Kainith, his lute glinting in the midday sun, continued to unleash his discordant symphony causing more and more goblins to stagger and hesitate. Lucian, his reserves dwindling, unleashed bolts of purple energy from his fingertips each beam taking out a goblin.

The stench of blood and burnt flesh filled the air. Slowly, but surely, the tide turned. The goblins, their initial fervor waning, faltered in the face of the relentless assault. Their numbers, though overwhelming at first, dwindled with each fallen comrade. Finally, with a last, defiant shriek, the remaining goblins turned and fled back into the swirling mist, leaving behind a battlefield littered with the grotesque remnants of their attack.

The party, battered and bruised, stood panting amidst the carnage. Their victory tasted like ash in their mouths. Wary but resolute, the party pressed on. The valley seemed to hold its breath. As they explored, they discovered remnants of a long-forgotten civilization, crumbling structures and weathered statues, all bearing the same unsettling purple hue. All of the structures were made out of the same strange metal that the well in Kernston was made of. But these ruins were blasted to bits with craters littering the landscape.

“Man, what kind of magic could have done this?” Lucian mused.

Kainith now looking even more worried said, “I am positive nothing can destroy that metal. I have never seen it destroyed.”

Rance looked at Kainith, “I mean clearly something can.”

“Okay guys we just need to continue on and get out of here I have a really bad feeling about this.” Rory stated.

“The Serpent’s maw is right here according to the map.” Kainith pointed out. 

“Okay just stick together and keep looking.” Lucian pressed.

Finally, nestled amongst the ruins, they stumbled upon an open archway with the mine angled downwards into the earth. Above the gaping maw, an intricate carved inscription, its message etched in a language long dead. Thanks to Kainith’s knowledge of forgotten tongues, he could decipher the chilling inscription: "All who enter here bend to my will."