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By now both Gen Con Indy and Gen Con So Cal have wrapped up and gamers everywhere are happy with the loot they have recovered and are smiling gleefully. One area of Flanaess where there is not a whole lot of smiles and glee is in the Gnome Vale near the Yatil Mountains. For two years adventurers have gathered at a small village in the shadow of the Yatil Mountains ruled by Laird Gwaylor, chief of Gnome Vale. His tribe has helped many defeat the evils of the Flanaess and has created some of the most unique items Oerth has ever seen. Last summer however, an old evil crept back into the light and caught the attention of his clansmen. He called upon the aid of adventurers again to help conquer this dark foe and many flocked to his call. These events happen directly after the PCs have played "Shadows of the Dread Spiral" and the events are now considered official for the Living Greyhawk campaign.
There is no thunder, no mighty explosion or spectacular array of creatures coming down out of the Yatil Mountains. A creeping silent darkness begins to permeate the southern Yatils engulfing everything in its path.
“Varachan! Varachan! Laird Gwaylor would like a word with you. It is most urgent.” A small stout but worried gnome cries out to a dark haired man with a noticeable scar across his face.
After a long pause staring out towards the Yatils the man replies. “I should think he does.”
As I walk towards the clan hall of the Laird numerous gnomes scurry about preparing the journey towards safer lands. Verbobonc? Greyhawk City? Who knows but I suppose anywhere but here is preferable. I thought there were enough of them but obviously the Dark God was too powerful.
The creaking of the oaken doors seems louder than normal today as the old Laird sits upon his throne.
Fiery eyes glare at me. “It appears they were defeated.” The weathered gnome hammers out each word. “You said they’d be able to fight back the evil and now look at it. The cloud of darkness grows with each passing minute. My scouts say they have seen some of the younger adventurers fleeing! Fleeing!”
“I’m sure they did their best Laird. My deepest apologies for this tragic circumstance if there is anything I can do…”
“You can start by helping out the women and children. I know you have powerful magic at your disposal. Send them to a safe place as the men try to make their way there by foot. My mages cannot do it alone. Some even wish to stay behind and study this…shadow that is certain to envelop us.”
“Of course.” Bowing, I take my leave, not wanting to invite more spiteful remarks. Turning towards the mountains once more it does seem like this shadow has grown since the last time I looked.
With the teleportation circle almost complete the gnomes begin to huddle near me. I can sense their fear, their dread. Many are leaving the only home they have ever known. Still, some refuse to leave and, while admirable, it is futile - they know not what will befell them soon.
“Everyone stand back. How many are going? Twenty-five? Alright then, please step in behind me and prepare yourself - it will be a rough ride.”
Just then a few of the elder gnomes run up to my side, waving their arms.
“Varachan, we found out what exactly this darkness is - it appears that it is an extension of the Plane of Shadow. We do not know how it was created but something powerful must have done it.”
“Thank you I will let my master know of this.”
I finish the incantations to complete the spell and in the distance I can make out the faint outline of some gigantic black wings. Then all goes dark.
As of now there is an extension of the Plane of Shadow in the Yatil Mountains near the Gnome Vale. It does not appear to be growing but covers a 10 mile radius.
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