The Blades of the Eight

It is early morning in the old mansion. None of the dragonslayers had a wink of sleep, but the sun has risen and birds are chirping outside the windows.

"I really feel like something is off." Erdan mutters as he exit his room. Sympathia is already in the hallway. "You feel that too?"

Amara and Zreyli leave their individual rooms, look at each other, nods, and look at the other two. "Is the old man awake yet?" Amara asks. "I've been out here for a while now, but he hasn't come down yet." Sympathia tells her.

Erdan walks upstairs, the stairs creaking as if they have been there for a very long time, and goes to the door of the old mans room and knocks on the door "Mister? Are you alright?" he asks, with no response. He knocks on the door one more time. Nothing. Erdan becomes concerned, and opens the door. The old man is laying in his bed, not moving. Erdan sits down next to the bed and feels his pulse. He turns to the others who are standing in the doorway and shakes his head. "He's passed away."

Looking around the room, Erdan sees family pictures of the man next to his bed. What appears to be his husband and daughter. Sympathia picks up the picture, looking it over. Erdan finds an old linen wrap, and rolls it around the old mans body. They carry him outside where they see another grave. "Here lies Stroghrath, a loving father and husband" it reads. The grave seems to have been well maintained, with a picture of the old man and Stroghrath, and their daughter which seems to be an adult in this photo.

Sympathia looks at the grave, gesturing to it. "Right beside this one, Erdan."

Realizing the grave has many druidic symbols and carvings, they bury the old man with the full custom of a druidic burial. After a while, the grave has been completed and as they fill in the last part of the grave, it magically adds the old mans name to the grave: Darion. It begins to snow lightly. Sympathia kneels down before them both, and begins a prayer for Darion to send his spirit on his way to meet with Stroghrath's in the realm of the dead. As she prays, she feels the God of Death embrace her, as if the god was weeping for her.

She takes a long, slow inhale, and stands up, holding the gods tear in her palm "The God of Death weeps for our return."

Erdan looks into the snowing sky "I'm afraid time might be of the essence". Amara has no offerings to give to the departed, as much as she wishes she did. She begins to trudge inside and look for anything that might be of use. After searching for a while, she comes out with a large chunk of venison meat. Everyone else looks at her. "Amara what the fu..." Erdan says. "It's not like he's going to eat it" she interrupts.

The group collectively sighs. Zreyli holds his hand out as snow collects in his hand. "Why doesn't this feel cold?" He says, before shrugging it off. Erdan looks at the group and says "It seems like our best option is heading for the lake of Gaard, there's always people near water, and there used to be a village there."

Zreyli begins drawing up a magical ritual as a horse appears. Amara looks at him. "Did you really just summon a mount while knowing everyone else has to walk?" she sighs. Sympathia looks at the ritual. "Oh that reminds me, I should probably summon my familiar." she says as she attempts to summon her demonic familiar. Suddenly a large portal appears revealing a cold and horrific Arch Devil on the other side. The Archdevil looks at Sympathia with shock and surprise shortly followed by a clear expression of sadness and relief. Sympathia's heart skips a beat and her breath gets heavy as she sees the Archdevil wielding her artifact, the Book of Demons. "oh...no..."

The portal closes but not before a small demon leaves the portal.

"Edona?" she whispers to the empty space where the portal was. "What? You alright?" Erdan looks to Sympathia. "No it can't be." She looks to the rest of the party. "Let us go" she says as her new familiar rests on her shoulders.

"Everything just keep getting weirder. As much as you don't like it. Maybe talk with the familiar once we find a place to stay. It could give us some much needed info" Erdans looks show that he knows it might be a bad idea.

After several hours of traveling through hills and forests, the group starts to see a clearing in the woods when the giant lake of Gaard reveals itself. They immediately notice massive changes. The large ice chunks in the lake have all melted, and it is much larger than it previously was. Eight giant stone monuments shaped like swords pierced into the ground surrounds the lake, and they seem to be ancient. One of the swords seem to have been partly destroyed, and it stands at the edge of a walled city, which lies exactly where the Village of Gaard used to stand.

"What in the world did they build?" Sympathia exclaims. "Who made these?" Erdan goes to inspect one of them. He finds a bronze plate attached to the bottom of the monument. "Amara, it's Dwarven writing, don't you speak that?" He asks.

Amara walks up to the plating, and reads it out loud. "The Blade of Amara, the symbol of accuracy and swiftness, as her arrow slew the evil dragon that kept the Lake of Gaard as its domain." She stops for a minute.

"They seem to be a monument to. . me. These must have taken many moons to build."

"It's an impressive monument to you I must admit." Sympathia says. Staring at the swords in awe. Erdan looks at Sympathia. "Very impressive indeed, but I don't understand. It seems like everybody thinks we are dead, but here we are"

Amara gently touches the plate as she looks straight up towards the edge of the monument. "We must have been gone for quite a while, asleep up in the mountains."

"Didn't you use to hunt here before you met us?" Zreyli asks. Amara looks back at him. "Yeah, I did."

They walk away from the monument. "What about going to Gaard or what might be in its place?" Erdan points to the stoned walled city. "Looks like a fortress more than a city. It might be out best bet for now." Amara replies.

The snowfall increases lightly, and it becomes a bit colder. As they walk towards the city, they pass another monument. Amara signals for them to stop while she walks up to read the plate. She pauses for a second when she reaches it. "Are you okay Amara?" Sympathia asks. Amara stands still as a tear falls from her eye. "They're- they're dedicated to me and my past companions."

"We need to make it to the city. Perhaps my companions will be there, perhaps not, but we will find aid in Gaard." She wipes the tear off her cheek.