Seven strangers were hired to guard a merchant's cart traveling along the Trade Way. The pay was good, the work seemed simple, and none of us knew each other yet.
That changed quickly.
On the road, we found another merchant's cart—overturned, ransacked, covered in claw marks. Papers scattered everywhere. Blood on the ground. And survivors: the Fenwick family, hiding in the woods, terrified.
Aldric, Elena, and young Marcus had been attacked by kobolds. Their guards were dead. They had barely escaped with their lives.
The kobolds came at us from the forest—small, vicious, organized. They fought with surprising coordination. We drove them off, but they retreated in formation, not in panic.
These weren't random raiders. They were soldiers.
We tracked the kobolds to their lair—a cave system in the side of Crimson Peak, a volcanic mountain that loomed over the region. Inside, we found more kobolds. Lots more.
The kobold chieftain waited for us in the deepest chamber. Krek'tak wore crude armor and a bronze medallion marked with three claw marks forming a triangle.
The battle was fierce. But we prevailed.
And when Krek'tak died, the mountain shook.
In the deepest chamber of the kobold caves, we found it: a massive ruby, the size of a human heart, resting on an ancient stone pedestal. The air around it hummed with power.
And when we touched it... everything changed.
A voice—deep, ancient, terrible—spoke to some of us. The voice of a dragon that has been sealed beneath Crimson Peak. Infernadax. He knows we have the ruby. He knows who we are. And he's waking up.
We took the ruby and ran. The mountain was shaking. Rocks falling. And behind us, we could feel HIM—aware, watching, amused.
Sprinkles couldn't bring herself to leave the ruby behind. Something about it calls to her. Dave feels drawn to it too, though for different reasons.
We reunited with the Fenwick family and their cart. Aldric offered to take us to Phandalin, a nearby town with walls and guards. He knows someone there who might be able to help us understand what we've found.
That night, camped on the road, we heard it: clicking sounds in the darkness. Something was watching us. Something that moved like a predator.
We woke to find something at the edge of camp: a wooden stake driven into the ground. On top sat a kobold skull—fresh, flesh stripped clean. Carved into the forehead: three claw marks forming a triangle. The dragon's mark.
Below it, scratched in Draconic: "WORTHY"
Hours later on the road, we heard it again: that clicking sound. And then he appeared— a dragonborn warrior unlike any we'd seen. Red and bronze scales. Strange armor with glowing lines. Mounted crossbows on his arms.
He could turn invisible. His bolts tracked us like living things. He spoke in Draconic: "The Great One wants his Heart returned. Prove you are worthy to keep it."
We fought. We wounded him. His blood glowed orange-gold like liquid fire. He fled, but not before delivering his message: "We will meet again."
After the ambush, we pushed hard and reached Phandalin by afternoon. Walls. Guards. Safety. The Fenwick family was finally home, and we were alive.
Aldric was grateful beyond words. He promised to introduce us to someone in town who might be able to help us understand what we've found—Sister Garaele at the Shrine of Luck. She studies ancient histories and dragon lore.
What are these "seals" Infernadax mentioned? Why does the hunter want us to prove our worth? What does the dragon want from us? And why do some of us feel so connected to all of this?
Tomorrow, we'll seek answers. Tonight, we rest.
The party will reach Level 3 soon—after they learn what they've unleashed and decide their path forward.