The crypt lay silent once more, its ancient stones still warm with the echo of violence. Dust drifted slowly through the air where the lich had stood moments before, its body reduced to nothing but fragments and ash. The crown lay upon the floor, innocuous at first glance—dull metal, unadorned save for its cruel symmetry—yet it radiated a gravity that none of them could ignore.
Thorn was the first to step toward it.
The moment the crown touched his brow, the world broke open.
He fell, not as a body collapsing but as a mind plunging into depths it had never known. Darkness swallowed him, then fractured into visions that came without mercy or warning. He stood upon a vast battlefield, the ground choked with bodies, the air ringing with the clash of steel and the hollow groans of the dead. An army of undead moved at his command, and with that command came a terrible, intoxicating certainty: life was an enemy to be extinguished. The feeling was not alien—it was intimate, as though it had always waited for him, dormant.
The vision shattered and reformed. Now he was in a stone laboratory thick with smoke and acrid scents, surrounded by vials, cauldrons, and half-decayed tomes. His hands—no, the lich’s hands—moved with obsessive precision. Something was missing. One final component, one essential truth, hovered just out of reach. The ritual for immortality lay incomplete, its failure both infuriating and confusing, for he could not even remember what success was meant to look like.
Then the throne room: vaulted stone, banners hanging in solemn ranks, courtiers frozen in fear. He sat upon a throne, crowned, regal—and monstrous. When he rose and crossed the chamber to a mirror, the truth revealed itself in stark relief. His reflection was no longer alive. His skin had faded to ash-gray, his eyes sunken, his features stripped of warmth and color, as though life itself had been leeched away, leaving only will behind. The crown rested easily upon his head, inseparable, sovereign.
Around Thorn’s fallen body, the others reacted with alarm. Elora knelt beside him, her instincts screaming that this was no simple faint. Magic clung to him like a second skin, cold and invasive. Lesser efforts to restore him slid off harmlessly, accomplishing nothing. Only when Elora drew upon deeper, purer power did the spell take hold. With a sharp clatter, the crown fell free, and Thorn gasped as consciousness rushed back into him.
He woke on the stone floor, heart hammering, the visions still burning behind his eyes. He remembered everything.
When he spoke, he told them of the battlefield in the valley beyond the glacier—how the ice had once lain farther back, how centuries must have passed. He told them of the ritual for immortality, written in deep, alien runes he had somehow understood in the vision but could no longer read. He told them of the crown’s promise, the way it had magnified his power and whispered that next time would be different—that next time he could master it instead of being mastered.
Even as he spoke, his gaze betrayed him. Again and again, his eyes drifted to the crown on the floor, his attention pulled like iron filings toward a lodestone. The others noticed. Concern passed silently between them.
Maledurk was the first to voice it. There was something wrong with the crown—something hungry. It was not merely dangerous; it was persuasive. Elora tested it carefully, lifting it without placing it upon her head. In her hands it felt like nothing more than cold metal. Magic lingered within it, yes, but it slept, revealing nothing of its true nature unless worn. That made it more troubling, not less.
In the end, they chose caution over fear. The crown was wrapped and stowed away, watched carefully, its presence acknowledged but not indulged. Thorn agreed—at least aloud—to be observed, to be questioned if his behavior changed. Whether the agreement eased the crown’s pull on him was another matter entirely.
With the lich destroyed and its moss harvested, there was nothing more to be found in the crypt. They climbed back into the cold air and turned their thoughts to the wider task still before them. One ingredient down. Four yet to be claimed.
They returned to the glade, where the ancient tree awaited them. As Elora stepped beneath its boughs, she felt a momentary resistance, as though the forest itself hesitated before allowing her passage. It passed as quickly as it came, leaving behind only unease. Neither the lich moss nor the hidden crown revealed themselves, and the tree accepted their report without suspicion, offering guidance toward the next trial: black salt, born of a devastating storm that scoured the land clean, leaving nothing behind unless seized from the tempest itself.
The world shifted again.
They emerged into a barren desert, scrub and stone stretching to every horizon. Far to the east, a dark wall stained the sky—a storm unlike any other, low and massive, devouring the landscape as it advanced. Even at a distance, it radiated menace.
They watched it for a long while, gauging its speed, its path. Time enough to plan, perhaps—but not to delay. Tempest took to the air, flying out to meet it, her figure shrinking against the enormity of the approaching wall. As she drew nearer, sound struck her first: a deafening roar like a thousand storms layered atop one another, the ground itself trembling beneath the assault. The storm was not rain, not sand, but something worse—fine black grains hurled in every direction at once, chaotic and violent, obscuring everything within.
The wind battered her mercilessly, tugging and twisting, threatening to pull her into the heart of it. From her vantage, she could see no pattern, no eye, no safe passage—only raw, destructive force rolling inexorably onward.
When she turned back, the message was clear. This storm would not be reasoned with. It would have to be endured, outwitted, or defied.
As the dark wall crept closer, the party gathered once more, minds racing with half-formed plans and dangerous possibilities. Stone walls, magic hands, daring approaches—all lay on the table. The storm was coming, and with it, the next test of their resolve.
The desert wind carried the first bitter taste of black salt as the horizon darkened, and the moment of choice drew near.
Recap / immediate aftermath of the previous session The party had previously opened a sarcophagus and found what they assumed was a lich inside. The party attempted to remove a crown from the lich. The lich stood up and a major fight ensued. The party ultimately defeated the lich by disintegrating him. After the lich was destroyed, the party retrieved lich moss from the lich’s skull. The crown was found on the floor after the fight. Thorn picked up the crown and placed it on his head. Thorn’s crown visions and collapse Immediately after putting on the crown, the DM asked Thorn to make a Wisdom saving throw. Thorn began experiencing involuntary visions (described as memories running through his mind that he could not control and had never experienced): Vision 1: A vast battlefield Vision 2: A stone “laboratory” room Vision 3: A castle throne room After these flashes, the vision went black. In the physical crypt, the rest of the party saw Thorn fall to the ground and pass out. Clarifying Thorn’s state inside the visions Thorn clarified that while in the visions: The DM confirmed: Thorn attempts to interact with the visions Thorn proposed attempting to interact with the visions—specifically, returning to the throne room and looking into a mirror to see why everyone was shocked. The DM asked Thorn to make another Wisdom saving throw. Thorn’s control increased: Thorn returned to the throne room vision. The DM described Thorn standing up, and the crowd recoiling and stepping back as if startled by his movement. Thorn moved down from the dais as people backed away, staring. Thorn found a mirror and approached it. In the mirror, Thorn saw himself wearing regal robes and the same crown. His reflection appeared disturbing and altered: Thorn concluded (in the party’s discussion) that this seemed like he was becoming the lich or merging with it (“both of us at one”). Party attempts to remove the crown from Thorn Elora attempted to remove the crown from Thorn while he was unconscious, using Mage Hand. During this time, Thorn confirmed: Elora considered that Greater Restoration might be required to remove the crown. Thorn explores additional visions in more detail Thorn stated he believed this was not simply a dream and that he was receiving glimpses of the past (though he did not know how far in the past). The DM confirmed Thorn now had enough control to choose which visions to revisit. Revisiting the laboratory vision Thorn returned to the laboratory-like scene. The DM described: Thorn searched for clues (such as a journal or symbols). Thorn found what appeared to be an ancient book: Revisiting the battlefield vision Thorn returned to the battlefield. Thorn attempted to identify the location. The DM requested an Investigation check. Thorn rolled 27. Thorn recognized the battlefield valley as the same valley the party had walked through before reaching the glacier where they found the crypt. Thorn asked about personal vulnerability in the vision. Thorn asked who he was in the vision (leader vs. pawn). The DM described Thorn as being in a leadership position: Thorn attempts to remove the crown inside the vision Thorn attempted to return to his companions by removing the crown while in the battlefield vision. The DM stated: Elora’s restorative magic removes the crown Back in the crypt, Elora decided to try Lesser Restoration on Thorn. Elora then cast Greater Restoration. The DM confirmed Thorn remembered everything he had seen. Thorn recounts the crown experience and what he learned Thorn shared details of what occurred: Wearing the crown caused him to experience and interact with the lich’s memories. He observed scenes including: The group discussed whether the information was merely historical or potentially useful. Thorn wondered whether wearing the crown again might allow him to learn more or interact further (including the possibility of influencing outcomes), but no definitive conclusion was reached. Party debate: keep or discard the crown The party discussed carrying the crown “just in case” it mattered later. Maledurk expressed concern that the crown seemed evil: The DM described an immediate ongoing effect on Thorn: The DM requested Insight checks from the others to see whether they noticed Thorn’s fixation. Elora tests holding the crown without wearing it Elora chose to pick up and hold the crown without putting it on. The DM had Elora make an Arcana check while holding it. Based on this, Elora’s position was to keep it stored (implying it might only trigger effects when worn). The crown’s temptation and Thorn’s internal thoughts The DM stated Thorn could feel that wearing the crown enhanced his magical power: Thorn noted a concern: The DM suggested Thorn’s earlier collapse happened because he wasn’t prepared for the “battle of wills” against the crown. The DM stated Thorn now believed he could outwit the crown, overpower it, and use it for himself. The DM clarified: Final decision: the party keeps the crown The party voted and decided to keep the crown. The party agreed to watch Thorn for unusual behavior; Thorn asked the others to keep an eye on him while he carried it (or while it was with them). The DM added a practical note: Leaving the crypt Teleporting back to the glade and speaking to the magical tree The party reviewed their remaining objectives: The party used their Wand of Teleportation to return to the glade where the magical tree had previously spoken to them. Jareth asked how things went and what the party found. The party decided: Elora feels resistance entering the glade As they entered the glade, the DM asked Elora to make a Wisdom saving throw. The DM described that Elora briefly felt as if her backpack “wouldn’t enter” the glade: The party discussed what might have triggered the resistance: Elora checked her backpack and confirmed: Choosing the next ingredient: black salt The party asked Jareth what to do next. The party selected black salt as the next ingredient to pursue. Jareth reminded them what they had previously been told: Teleportation to a desert-like region Jareth prepared to send the party onward again. The party arrived in an area described as: To the east, the party saw a low, dark cloud or wall on the horizon that appeared to be a storm. Planning how to survive and collect black salt The party discussed whether to stay in the storm’s current path or shift position: The party brainstormed collection methods: Mage Hand was suggested as a way to reach into the storm, but it was noted to have a 30-foot range, requiring close approach. Using a backpack or container to catch salt was discussed (e.g., opening a bag to let the salt blow in). One member mentioned possibly creating vines or something sticky for the salt to cling to, then collecting it afterward. A Wall of Stone idea was raised: A Ring of Protection was mentioned as a protective measure, but it was clarified that it increases armor class rather than directly shielding from environmental hazards. The party considered recon tactics: A party member flies to scout the storm One party member flew out toward the storm for reconnaissance. As the scout approached: The first noticeable change was the sound: Visually, it appeared as a wall of darkness and dense particles. The DM asked the scout for a Perception check. Results of the perception: The black particles did not simply fall downward like rain; they seemed to fly in all directions in inconsistent, random ways. It resembled a tornado in chaotic motion, but without a clear cyclone pattern. There were high winds coming off the storm. The winds were unpredictable: The scout became concerned that getting too close might: The scout could not determine an obvious pattern to the storm’s movement or internal flow. Session stopping point and immediate next steps The scout expressed interest in flying behind the storm next, to evaluate: The DM indicated they would explore these options next session, including what the terrain looked like behind the storm and whether tactics like Wall of Stone might help.Session Notes