The morning light, weak and dusty, struggled to penetrate the grime-coated window of their room in the Rusty Flagon. Lucian stirred, the night's fitful sleep leaving him feeling more drained than rested.

“The Eye? What could that mean?” Lucian whispered to himself.

He glanced around the room and noticed he was alone. 

“Hmm. Kainith must have gotten up early and left the room.” Lucian thought.

Lucian got up from his bed and walked out into the hallway and when he did he heard the booming laughter of Rory. He turned towards the laughter and walked into the room Rory and Rance stayed in. When he walked into the room he saw Rance still in bed and Rory now standing next to his bed and Kainith sitting in a small rickety wooden chair in the corner of the room.

“Well it’s about time you woke up!” Kainith smiled. “I thought we were gonna have to just leave you in bed all day.”

"Well," Lucian said, his voice hoarse from disuse, "another day, another step closer to getting ourselves killed."

Rory snorted. "Always the ray of sunshine, aren't you, Lucian? Here, you sound like you need some water." He tossed a waterskin to Lucian, who caught it gratefully.

"We need a plan," Rance said, his voice low. "Just sitting here won't get us any closer to finding that third gem."

Lucian nodded. "Agreed. But before we delve into our next move, let's see what this town offers. We need to see if anyone here has heard any rumors that might get us a clue."

“Oh and the market! We need to check the…”

A loud thudding noise coming from downstairs interrupted their conversation. It sounded like someone was banging on the Rusty Flagon door with enough force to break it down.

Rance shot out of bed daggers already in his hands. “That doesn’t sound like a great knock.”

"Sounds like trouble's brewing," Rory said, a predatory glint in his eye.

Kainith stood up and bounded towards the door. “Well, boys let’s get going. We just were talking about needing to find some clues. That sounds like one loud clue.”

The rest of the party nodded in agreement and grouped up with Kainith. The party cautiously walked to the top of the stairs looking down into the main room in The Rusty Flagon. There were no signs of the festivities from the night before. The room was very clean and there were only a couple of patrons in the tavern looking up from their breakfast towards the now pounding door. Just as the party started walking down the stairs the tavern's door flung open and a tall elven man staggered into the tavern and fell towards the bar. As the party approached the man they saw his face contorted in a mask of pain. His skin was an unhealthy shade of gray, and his eyes were hollow and sunken.

The barkeep, the same  burly man with a thick beard that was here last night, was trying to calm the man down, but with little success. "Easy there, friend! Whatever ails you, there's no need to break down my door."

The man clutched his chest, gasping for breath. "C… curse… help… me…" he stammered, his voice raspy and weak.

Kainith bounded over to the bar and knelt before the man. "What happened to you?" Kainith asked, his voice steady.

The man looked at him with pleading eyes. "A… artifact… stolen… cursed… draining… life…" he choked out before falling off of the bar and collapsing onto the floor.

The few patrons in the tavern erupted in gasps and murmurs. The barkeep knelt beside the fallen man, his brow furrowed in concern. "Someone get a healer! Quickly!"

Lucian ran over to the man with a bluish purple light at his fingertips and he touched the man's chest. When he did nothing happened and the man just kept breathing ragged.

“Lucian, what are you doing?” Kainith asked insistently.

“He said it was a curse and this spell…” Lucian looked at his hands, “...usually fixes that problem.”

“Well did it work?” Rory called as he kept walking closer.

Lucian just shook his head no in a solemn manner.

The barkeep, a man with a booming voice and a belly that strained against his apron, bellowed for someone to fetch Elara, the town's only healer, while Rory and Rance cautiously cleared a space around the stricken man. A few of the taverns patrons sprinted out of the tavern.

"What's your name?" Kainith asked, his voice cutting through the growing panic.

The man coughed, a wet, rattling sound. "M-Marcus… tomb robber… cursed… by the… Eye…" he rasped, his voice fading.

"Eye?" Kainith echoed, his brow furrowing.

“Eye… Eye of Th-...Thanatos.” the man managed to gasp out.

"The Eye of Thanatos? That's just a tavern tale.”

Lucian felt his blood run cold. Beware the Eye. This must be related. “Kainith. I think this is the next gem.” Kainith now looked even more worried. “I’ve read about something called The Eye of Thanatos but in the Hells it’s just a rumor. Like you said, a fairy tale, nothing more.”

The man's symptoms mirrored the effects of a curse Lucian had encountered in a forbidden text years ago. Back then, the passage spoke of an artifact, The Eye of Thanatos, a pulsating dark ruby rumored to grant immense power at a terrible cost. The symptoms, the ashen skin, the labored breathing all lined up. As Lucian and Kainith were discussing The Eye the tavern door creaked open, and a young woman with eyes like polished sapphire entered. Her elegant hands clutched a satchel overflowing with vials and herbs. This must be Elara. She pushed through the crowd, her gaze sharp as a hawk's.

"What's happened here?" she barked, her voice surprisingly strong for her stature.

The barkeep explained the situation, gesturing towards the unconscious Marcus. Elara knelt beside him, her fingers taking his pulse. A grim silence descended upon the room as she examined him.

Finally, Elara rose, her face a mask of concern. "He's been cursed," she confirmed, her voice echoing in the tense quiet. "A powerful curse, one that feeds off his life force."

Lucian stepped forward, his voice urgent. "Do you know how to break it?"

Elara studied him for a long moment before letting out a sigh. "Perhaps. But the cure may be just as perilous as the curse itself. It requires… well, it requires gaining another artifact, one said to hold the power to enhance magical effects."

Rance glanced at Rory and elbowed him. “There’s our gem.” He whispered.

“Elara is it?” Kainith said smiling. “Look, we can help. We have a track record of being super helpful.”

Rory laughed quietly to himself.

Elara looked at Kainith. “Fine. I can stabilize this gentleman and keep him alive for as long as possible, which won’t be long. I'll help you guys find the artifact to enhance my magic so we can clear this curse from him.” 

Lucian looked to Kainith. “I think it’s what we have to do.”

Kainith nodded. “Okay, Elara, how do we find this artifact?”

Elara pointed at Rory. “You look strong. Can you carry him to my apothecary?”

Rory’s face had a dumb smile spread across it. “Yes I can! It would be no problem. Really!” Rory knelt down to pick up the plaid tomb robber.

“Okay let’s go.” Elara waved a hand and motioned for the party to follow her.

The party left the tavern following close behind Elara. As they walked through the center of town the party noticed a large stone fountain built around a very large purple metallic sword. They further they walked the busier it got. There were merchants setting up stalls in front of their wagons full of merchandise. After a few more moments they came upon a large building made of logs with slate shingles and small wisps of smoke coming out of the chimney.

“Come on, let's get inside.” Elara motioned to the door.

The young mage pushed open the door and guided the party into a room that was clearly a shop. There were trinkets and potions on shelves and dried herbs in bundles on the counter. Elara ushered them into a back room, a cluttered space filled with drying herbs hanging from the rafters and shelves overflowing with dusty tomes. The air hung heavy with the scent of cinnamon and something faintly metallic. She gestured for them to sit around a rough-hewn table, its surface etched with cryptic symbols.

"The artifact you seek," Elara began, her voice raspy as she settled into a rickety chair, "is called the Tears of Aela. Legend speaks of a celestial being, Aela the Weaver, who possessed the power to mend the very fabric of reality. Her tears, imbued with this potent magic, are said to be crystallized within a necklace."

Kainith leaned forward, his lute forgotten on his back. "A celestial being's tears? Sounds like a myth more than an artifact."

Elara snorted, a dry rasping sound. "Many scoff at the tales of old bards. But history is littered with the echoes of forgotten magic. The Tears, if they exist, are rumored to be held within the ruins of the Sunken Temple, a place swallowed by the desert sands generations ago."

"The Sunken Temple," Rory rumbled. "Sounds like a place crawling with danger. Perfect."

"So, we need to find a legendary artifact in a forgotten desert temple to save a stranger's life," Lucian summarized, his voice laced with a hint of disbelief.

Elara met his gaze, her eyes filled with an ancient wisdom even at her seeming young age. "The choice is yours," she said simply. "But remember, fate rarely offers a straight path. This may be your only chance to break the curse before it claims Marcus."

Rance piped up. “Elara, can we have a moment of privacy. I think we need to talk about this as a group before we just sign up for something like this.”

Elara waved dismissively. “Of course. You can stay here. I’ll head out to the shop. Just let me know when you’ve made a decision. Oh and Rory is it? Please just set Marcus down right there.” she pointed at the table etched with runes. 

As Elara left the room and closed the door behind her Kainith spoke up. “There is no way we got this lucky.” He continued giddy. “I thought we got lucky finding out about The Eye. Only to find out we have to go find another magical artifact. What are the chances that’s another gem?”

Rory spoke up, “That’s what I was telling Rance when we were at the tavern I thought the tears sounded like a gem of power.”

“Let’s get her back in here then to tell us more about this Sunken Temple. Sounds like an awful place but…”Lucian said and then turned to Rance. “...temples usually have some treasure.”

Rance’s eyes lit up with the mention of treasure. “You’re right, let's get started then.”

 Kainith poked his head back out of the door. “Elara we’re in.”

Elara came back into the room. “I’m glad. You can help this man and a lot of people with an artifact like that.”

Lucian asked. "Alright," he said, his voice firm. "We'll help you find the Tears of Aela. But we'll need some information. Anything you can tell us about the Sunken Temple, its location, or the dangers that might lie within?"

Elara shuffled to a dusty wooden cabinet tucked away in the corner, its hinges groaning in protest as she cracked it open. Inside, a jumbled mess of scrolls and leather-bound tomes threatened to topple out. "These," she spoke, pulling out a brittle map wrapped in yellowed cloth, "are the library's forbidden archives.” She unfurled the map carefully, revealing a faded yet intricate drawing of the surrounding region. A series of old mountain ranges dominated the northern portion, while sprawling plains stretched south. A faint dotted line snaked its way across the map, through the mountains labeled dragons spine, leading to a small, crudely drawn circle marked with a single ominous pyramid symbol.

"The Sunken Temple," Elara declared, pointing an elegant finger at the symbol. "Legend says a forgotten civilization obsessed with celestial magic built it. The map itself is incomplete, likely a fragment of something larger. But it should be enough to get you within striking distance." Her gaze flicked to each member of the party, her voice dropping to an indistinct murmur. "The desert is more than just sand dunes and unforgiving heat. It's a realm of shifting sands that can swallow the unwary whole. There are tales of sandworms, monstrous creatures that burrow beneath the surface, their tremors capable of disorienting even the most seasoned traveler."

A shiver ran down Rory's spine. The image of a giant worm erupting from the sand was not a welcome one.

She placed a weathered leather satchel on the table, its surface etched with strange runes. "This," she explained, "contains basic provisions: water bladders, dried rations, and some rudimentary healing salves. It won't be enough for a long expedition, but it's a start."

"We appreciate the information, Elara," he said, Kainiths voice firm. "We understand the risks, but we'll find the Tears of Aela."

Rance, a mischievous glint returning to his eye, hefted the satchel. "Provisions, a legendary artifact, and a chance to explore forbidden ruins? Sounds like a profitable detour to me."

“Alright, we need to get more supplies. Deserts aren’t exactly known for their friendliness.” Kainith mused. “Elara, we’ll leave tomorrow and be back in no time.” Kainith winked.