On the beach, now some two days South of the redoubt of Vecna, the party decides once and for all to dispatch the other worldly creature. This they do after combat brief and not altogether honorable. The creature disappears from this plane in a brilliant explosive flash, sending pieces of the cage as high speed shrapnel, and nearly drowning a party member.
Their raft now ruined, the party seeks to return by land to Vecna's lair.
The mountain between them and their goal proves harder to pass then they first considered.
There is a fetid marshland complete with magical brush which threatens to envelop them; a swarm of stinging things which threatens to eat them one tiny mouthful at a time; an evil black dragon which threatens to dissolve them in acid; and a bask of giant crocodiles which threatens to make their lives still more miserable.
It seems that for the party there is no respite and they descend the slopes, determined to go by the seashore. No sooner do they set foot on the sand, then still others arrive. The dead are inexorable as they come, having covered a staggering distance in so short a time.
One of the party, Conag of the Hill People, can brook no more opposition. "It isn't real," he cries, walking toward the oncoming zombies. "They can't be real. They can't have arrived this soon!"
The barbarous fighter walks into their midst and just as outstretched hands would seek to tear him down, the rest of the party hears his laughter. A few moments pass and the illusion is broken. Lothar is triumphant!
Suddenly, the beach is clear. There is only the sole warrior standing.
"I knew it," he yelled, "I knew there was no way for them to have covered this distance." This can only mean that we are watched from afar!"
Heartened, at least, not be facing legions of the undead, the party journeys north on the strip of sand. They seek the Sudmen tribe of the Bold who reside on the five hills and from there, they intend to go to fortress of Vecna -- no more deceived by parlor tricks and phantasms.
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