The party entered Siegfried’s Sequestered Sanctuary via the shimmering portal. Beyond the portal was a magnificent foyer with numerous chambers beyond to the left and right of the main door. The atmosphere was clean, fresh, and warm. Bob entered his chamber. A 10-foot-tall golden relief of Sune bathing in the waters of Evergold concealed a hidden doorway behind the waterfall, leading to a warm seafront villa of white marble, purple velvet, and golden opulence, with a wide-open balcony facing a memory of the port of Kirkwall. The smell of sea-salt and trade spices are carried on a cooling breeze in the warm weather, as ephemeral nymphs wait hand and foot to polish scales, feed grapes, pour wine and sing songs of Sune and draconic ancestries. An ebony piano sat in the corner of a golden dancefloor. Alec entered his chamber. An iron gate, latched by a mithril and an adamantine gauntlet bearing the eye of helm, opened to a woodland clearing of a military encampment by the coast. Ephemeral soldiers roasted meat over barbeques, quaffed ale, and sang songs of home and play shirts vs skins in one endless ballgame or another. Erwen entered his chamber. The folds of a large dog bed by a fireplace led to a hidden tunnel just wide enough for him to crawl through, leading to a hollowed-out tree in an expansive swampy forest in spring. The forest was filled with fruit, berries, roots and critters, while spectral wolves hunted magically-conjured wildlife. He heard a stomping noise in the swamp and spied an ogre splashing about in the muck, chasing a talking donkey. Varien entered his chamber. Behind a brass door engraved with a relief of Sune bestowing her boon to the Phoenix was a spiral staircase, leading to a dwarven inspired, steam-heated lodge. Crystal portcullises displayed a vista of frozen tundra, mountains and sea underneath an ever-present aurora. The lodge contained a sauna, hot pools, an ice-fishing pool, a small glasshouse containing a bonsai rose garden, and a reading nook containing a small library. Above the fireplace was a landscape painting of a younger Varien with his father, mother and sister, and a smaller cameo-style portrait depicting Radegast on the mantle beside it. Varien pulled a tome from the library. A manual written by a malconvoker of some renown from Zakhara, it was entitled Laa Shay'a Waqi'un Moutlaq Bale Kouloun Moumkine , and its contents were translated from the original Midani script. Varien exited the lodge, walking along a dock to the icy lake beyond. As the spectral snow whipped about, he sat on the dock, heedless of the cold, and stared out over the frozen vista. Siegfried entered a chamber off the main foyer. It was a grand library, its design based upon sketches of King Nasher Alagondar’s private reading chambers in Castle Never. Siegfried walked past book-laden shelves to a large writing desk and a high-backed chair arrayed before a window of stained glass that depicted Castle Never in its prime, and let in just the right amount of light any time of day to illuminate its panes. A candelabra ignited its candles as he approached. He sat. Before him was an inkwell, pen, and a sheaf of cream-coloured paper of aristocratic cardstock. Siegfried put quill to paper and began to write. Dearest Harianna, What to say to you? News of the recent affairs at the Lord’s Court have by now no doubt reached your ears. Would that I had the opportunity to reveal the truth of my heritage to you beforehand, but it was vital that secrets be kept lest the prematurely outed truth put those closest to me in the gravest danger. Why would the truth endanger you? For insofar as I am a Prince, I am in fact a Prince of Darkness. I have been grappling with this reality my entire life. That is why I told no one that I was in fact a prince, not even you, though it was my heart’s desire to be honest with you from the outset. We have known each other since childhood and our paths have crossed many times since then. Our most recent intersections have been some of the happiest hours of my life. And so, let me be honest. Though royal blood runs through my veins, due to the circumstances of my birth, it is infused with eldritch shadow and shaped by orcish cave magic that would appear deeply offensive to human sensibilities, particularly in civilizations beset by the depredations of my relations in Many-Arrows and elsewhere. This is embedded deep within my bones. I am, after all, my Mother’s son – the Ashen Queen of Evernight. And I have recently learned that I am not my Mother’s only son – I have a brother who has whole-heartedly embraced his orcish heritage much in the same way as I have embraced my humanity. This is a complication. And so, this is my story; this is my song: is it better to have been born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort? My dear Harianna, I believe it to be the latter. So, why do I write thee now? My companions and I are heading into Waterdeep’s underground to retrieve an item sacred to my orcish kin in an effort to broker a peace treaty between the horde commanded by my brother, and the City of Splendors. If nothing else, it shall buy Waterdeep some much-needed time, and allow me to put Neverwinter’s affairs in order. With the orcs on our side, we can end the Infernal menace to the Sword Coast. Siegfried paused, pondering his next paragraph. He glanced at a strategically-placed mirror on an ornate stand that was positioned to afford him a view of the space directly behind his writing chair. He felt a sudden chill as he saw a tall, thin humanoid form emerge from the shadows behind him. Outwardly, he betrayed no notice as the creature crept toward him, silent as the grave. Its dirty-white skin was stretched taut over its body like a glossy armour. It was decaying and rotting in places, showing gaunt, atrophied muscles and organs over prominent bones. Its eyes were solid white. Its limbs were unnaturally long and it betrayed a strength beyond its slender, hunched appearance. As it approached, its mouth split open to reveal canine, predatory teeth. The creature’s expression was one of abject hunger. The temperature in the library continued to fall, and the candles guttered in their stand. Whatever this is has the ability to affect even a simulacrum of heat and light , Siegfried thought. Most curious. Almost a shame that it will soon be without its head. Siegfried waited until the horrid creature reached out a ragged claw to touch his shoulder. He affected an absent-minded scratch on his right leg and suddenly filled his hand with Azuredge, swinging it up in a slanted slash behind him as he leapt from the chair in a skilled flourish. He kicked his legs back, sending the chair flying out from beneath him. It was a defensive kata he had performed many a time in practice, and he executed it perfectly. Azuredge tasted nothing but air as he slashed through the space where the creature’s temple would have been. There was only the sound of the chair skittering across the stone floor, falling on its high back. The creature was gone, if it had ever been there at all. Siegfried smirked. “Very funny, Mother,” he said aloud to the empty room. He looked back at the mirror, which showed only the reflect of the chamber. Siegfried felt a sudden urge to check on that rusted cowbell he’d retrieved from the Deepwinter Vault. The candles and fireplace both flared back to life. I could check on Bob, but perhaps a visit to Varien first is in order , Siegfried thought to himself He reached into his bag and pulled out a vial of Eustace’s Eucalyptic Eye Emulsions . He used the dropper to drop some of the colloid into each eye and gained truesight . He drew his ethereal elfbane cutlass and headed to Varien’s section of the sanctuary. Siegfried entered the wintry environment and immediately noticed that pieces of Varien’s plate armour had been stripped off, laying here and there in the snow on the walk towards the lodge. The lodge’s door was open. He entered the lodge and smelled the aroma of noodles made from hoarwheat, and broth made from otteguin bones. All the fireplaces inside the lodge were roaring even as the front and back doors were wide open. Peering out the open back door, Siegfried could see Varien sitting on the dock with a bowl of broth and noodles in one hand and an arcane tome in the other. His feet were planted on the ice of the frozen lake. “There’s spare food in the kitchen,” Varien called out over his shoulder. Siegfried sat at a chair, read the draft of his letter, balled it up and threw it into the fire. He started a draft anew and was soon surrounded by crumpled wads of paper. He chewed on the end of his feather quill thoughtfully, then scratched down another line or two. Finally, the letter was finished to his satisfaction. He nodded to himself, walked out onto the pier and asked Varien to proof-read it. Varien read the letter and then turned to Siegfried. “When you re-cast this simulation, does it remember any damage done to it, or is it a fresh lie each time?” “Fresh each time,” Siegfried said. Varien handed the letter back to Siegfried and walked back into the lodge. He emerged a few moments later as the lodge behind him began to burn. A number of ghostly servitors were standing off to the side, their body language indicating they were unsure what to do next. “Varien, if you’d prefer to rest in a pile of ashes, I can remake this cabin into a pile of ashes for you each time,” Siegfried said with a smile. Varien shrugged and sat back down, finishing his bowl of noodles and broth. He drank the dregs from the bottom of the bowl and tossed it like a curling rock on the frozen lake’s surface. “We’d best be heading down those stairs, right?” Varien asked Seigfried. “Indeed,” Siegfried said. As they departed, Varien donning his armour, the ghostly servants put out the fire behind them. Siegfried and Varien entered the sanctuary’s main hall, and encountered Bob and Alec in the foyer. Bob looked rather haggard. “Bob, you look quite shaken,” Siegfried said. “Spooky ghost visit you in a mirror?” Bob’s eyes widened. “How did you know?” “It’s that cowbell,” Siegfried said. Alec crossed his arms crossly. Erwen joined the party from his swamp treehouse, transforming into an angelic planetar. “Siegfried,” he boomed. “Whatever you’ve done with this place, I love it!” Varien used remove curse on Bob. “What’s this about a cowbell?” “Oh yes,” Siegfried said. “Some sort of cursed cowbell that if you touch it or ring it you invite a visitation from a long-legged emaciated creep. I can take him. And if I can’t, I’ll let you know.” The party, fully rested, left Siegfried’s sanctuary. Siegfried cast Siegfried’s Speedy Courier and placed the envelope inside the arcane chest that blinked into existence. The party marched down the secret stairway beneath the patriarch’s crypt, Siegfried in the lead. Their various visual enhancements and magical illuminations revealed a deep, wide channel hewn into the living rock of Waterdeep’s granite plateau as they left the claustrophobic passage directly beneath the coffin box. It was a seemingly endless steep set of recursive flights of stairs that doubled back on themselves at each landing delving deeper down. Ancient runes and graffiti were scrawled upon the walls. As they descended, the frigid enchantments of the Deepwinter Vault ebbed away, replaced with the oppressive heat of the underground. “I do believe we’re somewhere beneath Malshymber’s Way by now,” Siegfried noted as they continued downward. “I think we’re taking this architecture for granite,” Planetar-wen quipped. He raised an angelic hand upwards. “There are two distinct architectural styles evidenced here. The upper stairwell is of much more recent construction than this more ancient stairway. At least two hundred years earlier, I believe.” “The Deepwinter Vault was built in 1129DR, if memory serves,” Siegfried said. “But this subterranean structure is not Undermountain, which is interesting enough.” “This older stairway is at least 500 years old,” Planetar-wen said. “Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we’ve arrived. And can I axe you something, Siegfried? Why are you so wild to recover this axe?” “Because I promised to recover it,” Siegfried lied. Planetar-wen smirked as he saw through Siegfried’s dishonesty. “Varien, what is our intention when we find the axe?” “Siegfried said he wanted it,” Varien said. “But now I want to hear from Siegfried.” “We promised to recover the axe in order to give it to the orcs of Many-Arrows to cement a peace treaty,” Siegfried explained. “So that the orcs will be on our team when we fight devils. Plus, this is one pathway into the headquarters of the Xanathar Guild, who hold one of the Eyes of the Stone of Golorr, which we’re also after for important reasons. And we’ve got a couple of days to kill before our meeting in Daggerford with your favourite, best friend Javen Tarmikos.” Planetar-wen’s golden eyes glittered at the memory of being stabbed by the Gilded Eye’s leader. Even as an angel he was not prepared to forgive and forget. The walls of the granite chasm began to narrow. Below them, the steps widened into a diamond-shaped landing. The walls of the landing were pierced by several arrow slits. Small fragments of bone and rusted metal littered the floor. Beyond the diamond-shaped chamber, the stairs continued downward. Siegfried extended his true seeing spell and asked Violance to escort him into the Ethereal Plane. The nightmare assented. Siegfried saw the chamber’s dimensions illuminated in shades of grey and he poked his head through the arrow-slits. He pushed through the ectoplasm and discovered an area behind the walls – a channel that matched the diamond shape where hidden crossbowmen or casters could wait in ambush. The passageway appeared to be connected to a secret section of stairway halfway down the flight of steps. He pointed his ethereal elfbane cutlass at the section of stairway for Planetar-wen’s benefit. As a planetar, the druid could see into the Ethereal Plane, and he took note of Siegfried’s signal. Planetar-wen turned himself invisible. He saw the movable section of stairway and grabbed it, pulling it forward. Varien drew his sword as he saw a section of stairway suddenly swing up before him, locking into place to cut him off from the lower section of the diamond-shaped redoubt. “A stair has become a wall,” Varien grumbled. “Wonderful.” He investigated. “Ah yes, hinges built into the floor here, likely a locking mechanism on the other side. An ingenious defensive fortification, to be sure,” he murmured. He checked for a way to release the lock, but the trap’s designers had ensured that all relevant mechanisms were blocked by the slab of stone steps. As Varien considered a more permanent solution to his problem, Siegfried popped out of the Ethereal Plane, standing in a narrow pathway about seven feet below the trapped steps. Standing on Violance’s back, he reached up and unlocked the mechanism. Then he and his nightmare went back into the Ethereal Plane. The section of stairs slammed back down with a resounding thud. Varien activated his divine sense and detected the angelic presence of Planetar-wen behind him. He continued down the stairs, the Trevelyans behind him. He turned directly to Planetar-wen. “Follow us,” he said. Planetar-wen blinked. He thought about casting detect good and evil , but decided to stay invisible instead. Siegfried found no evidence of guards in this chamber. He and Violance scouted ahead, pushing through the ethereal walls of the underground complex. Varien continued down past the defensive chokepoint. The stonework of the dungeon was quality work – smoothly hewn from granite. The stairs were about 20 feet wide, the ceiling above them about 12 feet high. The stairs ended in a wide, angled room with a high ceiling. The walls to the northeast and southeast were pierced with arrow slits. Although scattered with debris, the room was largely empty. Ogee arches surmounted the doorways and archways of the corridor. A set of large iron-bound oak double doors led east while smaller doors led north and south. The doors were inlaid with steel plates on their exteriors, each of the plates depicting a snarling wolf-head in bas-relief. “Cool,” Planetar-wen said, admiring the wolves. “The architecture here is done in the classical Shoon style.” “Relating to the Shoon Imperium, no doubt,” Siegfried added. Planetar-wen smiled at Siegfried. “Not so Shoon, Siegfried,” he said. “How is it that you turn into an angel and suddenly know so much about architecture?” Siegfried asked. “I guess you could say it’s because I am an arch-angel,” Planetar-wen said. Varien inspected the doors and saw that within one of the wolves’ mouths was set a tiny hole, large enough for passage by an ooze or a creature in gaseous form. Planetar-wen began to try to open the door to the north. Finding the door locked, Varien shrugged and placed a palm on the door. He cast ignite flame and set the door on fire. He stood back, waiting patiently. From the Ethereal Plane, Siegfried could see a large, open foyer with a barrel-vaulted roof. Twin doors opened to the north and south ends of the east wall. Narrow passages led to the north and the south. In the centre of the floor there was some sort of mosaic, but the finer details could not be deciphered from the plane. Siegfried could see no movement within the chamber. Behind him, the iron bands of the door were beginning to glow. Siegfried spied another ambush zone but found no guards in either of the small, fortified chambers to the east. Within one of the guard rooms he discovered a secret chamber. Poking his head through the door, he spied nothing but a large wooden bar leaning against the wall. He chopped at it from the Ethereal Plane, splintering the wooden bar. Using the tip of his sword he carved out the words “baby stand” on the bar to confuse whoever used it next. Satisfied that the door’s hinges had been weakened by fire, Varien kicked the door open. He strode forward confidently. He spied a mosaic carved into the floor to the east. It depicted clashing armies of genies. “Neat,” Varien said. He walked into the room until he was standing atop the mosaic. He triggered a heartrending wail that threatened to burst his eardrums. Alec and Bob similarly grabbed at their ears as the ear-splitting scream reverberated through the chamber and deeper into the dungeon. Seeing his friends staggering around clutching their heads, Siegfried cast mind blank on himself. He re-entered the Prime Material Plane and smirked insufferably, banging a metal frying pan and spoon together to add injurious insult to his words. “Ah, you triggered a trap because you weren’t searching for traps, you fool of an Aether!” he said to Varien, helping the paladin to his feet. “Neat mosaic though.” As Siegfried dressed down his companions, his metal-on-metal banging was joined by the rhythmic sound of drums from the deep. “Who wants to come back to the Ethereal Plane with me?” he asked. "Remember, hiding isn't cowardice." “Sounds good,” Bob and Alec agreed. Bob cast mass cure wounds on his companions. Varien turned to the north where the sound of the drums was strongest. He spun his sword in his hands. “No thank you, Siegfried,” he said. “I’ve got this.” Varien stood stalwartly in the corridor as the sound of boots on stone approached.