Session 5: The Cry of the Cursed Beast Arc 1

The glowing-eyed carnotaurus stood before the adventurers, its monstrous form crushing the barricades of the bandit camp. Its movements were wild yet tortured, as though it were battling the hostile magical force possessing it. The party attempted to calm the creature, using every ounce of Rhyia’s druidic affinity for beasts and Cats’ tempered stoicism. But despite their efforts, the carnotaurus’s rage simmered just beneath its trembling exterior.

Deciding caution was their best recourse, the adventurers slowly backed away from the cave they believed to be the predator’s den. For a moment, it seemed their gamble had worked. But their reprieve was short-lived as a sudden mist engulfed the forest, shrouding everything in disorienting fog.

Botas, ever sharp and vigilant, found his senses deceived. An illusion of another carnotaurus appeared before him, its bellowing roar shaking his resolve. Consumed by panic, he bolted into the cave for perceived safety—only to be seized and dragged into the shadows by the true denizen of the den.

Forced to act, the party ventured into the cave to rescue their companion. The dark interior shimmered with veins of blackstone, the cavern illuminated faintly by the magical glow of the mineral. Navigating the treacherous corridors, they finally reached the beast’s nest.

The carnotaurus was waiting, luring them into an ambush. The possession had deepened, twisting its pain into seething fury. A desperate battle ensued, with the adventurers fighting not only to save themselves but to free the tortured creature from its torment.

When the beast fell at last, its rage faded into sorrow. The carnotaurus dragged its massive, battered body to its nest and let out a mournful cry, its glowing eyes dimming with each tear. As its life ebbed away, the adventurers realized the tragic truth: the carnotaurus was a female. Claw marks and disturbances near the nest revealed that her eggs had been destroyed, and some had been stolen by a creature capable of shapeshifting.

Beyond the beast’s den, the cavern opened into a chamber where natural light spilled in through a skylight carved high in the rock. A staircase led the party to an ancient tomb lined with sarcophagi, its centerpiece a desiccated corpse lying on an altar.

As the group approached, Rhyia’s blackstone necklace began to react, one of its beads glowing intensely with the same light emitted by the blackstone veins in the cave. Holding the necklace as a lens, Rhyia witnessed a haunting vision: a bloodied elven woman with blonde hair and a black earring in her left ear. Her body was covered in runes carved into her flesh as she fled something unseen. The vision ended as she was caught and mutilated by an entity with dark claws.

Examining the dried remains, the adventurers found no trace of blood or flesh—only brittle skin and bone. The runes carved into the body were still intact, glowing faintly with residual magic. Most chilling was the gaping hole in the chest, where the heart had been torn in two and dried to ash. Further inspection revealed that the victim’s aorta had been removed entirely.

Beside the body lay a tattered satchel. Within it, the party found two peculiar items: a book filled with illustrations of demons and a polished hand mirror. Each seemed steeped in mystery, their purposes yet unknown.

The air in the tomb was heavy with unease, the silence broken only by the faint hum of blackstone. Whatever dark forces had claimed this place—and the lives within—were not yet finished. The adventurers steeled themselves, knowing this was only the beginning of the horrors they would uncover.