The Tower of Araj

Jhelnae's eyes widened as the map in Diarnghan's gloved hands glowed with a soft, purple light. A matching radiance flared on the tunnel wall to their right, illuminating the word Araj in spidery Elvish script. She recognized the word — vengeance — and heard the faint click of a hidden mechanism releasing. Stone ground against stone as the outline of a narrow secret door emerged.

All so far was as expected. In Gravenhollow, the elderly drow wizard, Vizeran, had given their group this map to his tower and told them it would open a secret door when they neared it. Still the darkling ranger hesitated, casting a cowled, questioning, glance back at the rest of them. Aligor, the nearest to him, gave a shrug of armored shoulders and a slight nod.

After receiving this bit of encouragement, Diarghan folded the map and returned it to a pocket in his cloak. Placing his gloved hands against the revealed portal, he pushed. With a further grinding of stone against stone, the door shifted, swinging inward to reveal a void of blackness beyond.

The air coming from this new passageway was stale and cool, stripped of the faint warmth found when the swirling radiation of the faerzress was present. Sidling sideways, the darkling ranger led the way through the narrow opening. His cloak rustled faintly as it brushed against the stone.

One by one, the others followed. Aligor's armored form barely fit and metal rasped against rock as he squeezed through. Kuhl moved with greater ease despite his broader, muscular build — the dragonscale armor gifted by Laeral Silverhand being less bulky than the former knight's plate. Sky passed through with her typical feline grace, nearly stepping on the half-elf's feet in her eagerness to discover what was on the other side of the secret door.

When it was Jhelnae's turn, she pressed her fingers against the rough, cool stone for guidance as she proceeded. Her leading foot felt its way across the uneven ground as she edged sideways through the tight opening. Behind her, she heard the faint shuffle of Aleina following, the aasimar's progress a muted whisper in the darkness.

Thankfully the passage rapidly widened once past the portal, opening out into a cavern whose far walls and ceiling were lost out of sight in the blackness beyond the half-drow's darkvision. A grunted curse came from the rear of their group - Gorath expressing frustration at navigating the narrow confines of the secret entrance. It brought a sad smile to Jhelnae's lips. The former gladiator's difficulty made her think of her quaggoth companion, Prince Derendil. He had been even larger than Gorath and had left buttons, shreds of his shirt, and even fur behind while squeezing through tight spaces during their journey through the Underdark.

But her mind fully returned to the present as stone ground against stone once again and the secret door closed with a resounding thud. She gazed around the cavern. A vast, black shape loomed near the limits of her dark vision - an enormous stalagmite hollowed out and sculpted into a bleak, dark tower. Carved windows glowed faintly with interior light, their radiance casting pale streaks across the surrounding stone. This must be Vizeran's tower, the Tower of Araj, the Tower of Vengeance. Which brought a question to Jhelnae's mind - vengeance against whom?

Bits of quartz and mica embedded in the cavern floor shimmered as they caught the light from the windows, and the half-drow saw a faint footpath worn by previous travelers leading toward the structure.

"As creepy wizard refuges go," Aleina whispered. "This one feels downright cozy and welcoming."

Jhelnae gave her a quizzical look.

"You think so?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Aleina wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

"No."

The corner of Jhelnae's mouth twitched up at that and she chuckled softly. Her friend somehow managed to find ways of lightening the mood.

Together, the group followed the worn path toward the tower, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. At its base stood a massive iron door. Its sheer weight and imposing presence made it at first seem an impassable barrier, but then with a resonant clang, the door swung inward in an ominous invitation as they approached.

"Was that the map again?" Eldeth asked, voice hushed. "Or is someone watching us from above?"

"I don't even have the map out," Diarnghan answered. "So, my guess is the latter."

"That's what I was afraid of," the dwarf sighed.

"Well, what are we waiting for," Sky said, with a shrug of feline shoulders. "Let's go inside."

Kuhl restrained her with a hand on one of the magical green and gold bracers around the tabaxi's forearms — a spoil of battle won from an oni she and the half-elf fought in the Vanderwood near Waterdeep.

"Let Aligor and I go in first," he said. "We're more heavily armored."

"Vizeran invited us here," Sky said. "So, why are we being so cautious?"

"Because we don't know whether we can trust him," Aleina answered.

"In this, noble-daughter is almost right," Lenora said. "He is drow and a wizard. Two sure reasons against trusting him."

The Chessentan crossbow woman seemed to reflect on what she just said and cast an apologetic glance at Jhelnae.

"No offense," she said.

"I probably trust him less than you do," the half-drow said with a shrug.

"He also has some sort of demonic toad as a bodyguard," Kelvane said. Which is probably a third indication he can't be trusted."

"And that is a third reason," Lenora agreed, nodding.

Sky, sighing and giving a roll of her golden eyes, waved for Kuhl and Aligor to proceed ahead of her.

Beyond the heavy iron door lay a short, narrow tunnel carved into the hollowed-out stalagmite. The air within was cool, carrying the mineral tang of the surrounding stone. As they stepped inside, a floating orb of pale violet light flared to life, its glow spilling across a vaulted chamber. Metal glinted as the spectral radiance reached shadowy forms along the perimeter of the room.

Jhelnae's breath caught and she dropped into a battle stance, hand raised to her chest in preparation of summoning her protective warding magic. Then she stopped, watched, and waited.

"They're just suits of armor," Eldeth breathed, releasing her grip on the silver warhammer slung across her back.

"Just suits of armor?" Saliyra hissed. "In a wizard's tower?"

"Well, stop pointing your crossbow at them before they decide to become something other than suits of armor," Kelvane muttered.

After a moment of hesitation, the Chessentan scout lowered her weapon.

Standing at rigid attention along the chamber's perimeter were a dozen armored figures, their helmeted heads bowed and greatswords gripped in gauntleted hands, the tips of their age-darkened blades resting against the stone floor. For a fleeting instant as the light filled the chamber the fleeing shadows had made it seem like they were moving. They certainly looked like they might move at any moment - raise their weapons, lift their heads, and turn to face the intruders.

But the figures remained still and lifeless. Each suit was nearly identical with the exception being the marks of time and battle — dents, faded gilding, faint stains of corrosion, and patchwork repairs.

The half-drow's pulse steadied, though unease remained and as her gaze swept the rest of the chamber her eyes kept darting to the sets of armor. A central spiral staircase without a railing twisted upward, its open shaft disappearing into darkness, while cold, unlit lanterns lined the walls and continued up with the stairs. To the left of the entrance, a throne-like chair loomed on a raised dais, its cushion and armrests shrouded in a layer of dust. Dust also obscured the elaborate carpets underfoot over the stone floor, to Rhianne's displeasure.

"Drow silk carpets," the darkling bard muttered, shaking her cowled head. "It takes artisans over a year to weave and craft these motifs… and they are just moldering under gathering dust."

The dust, unlit lanterns, and stillness gave the room an air of abandonment, but Vizeran was clearly present. As Sky had said he had invited them here to this tower and provided them the map showing them the way. Why he didn't just guide them here himself given he left Gravenhollow only shortly before them, Jhelnae didn't know. But she'd been relieved to learn they would not be traveling with the wizened drow wizard and his monstrous bodyguard. Their group had actually heavily debated whether or not to accept his invitation at all, but even after the visions they gathered in Gravenhollow, no one had an idea for decisively dealing with the demon incursion into the Underdark — except perhaps Vizeran. In the end they decided to at least listen to what the drow wizard proposed.

The glowing orb floated to the center of the room and hovered just beneath the base of the spiral staircase, its pale violet light pooling around the first few steps.

"Sky," Kuhl hissed. "Don't even think about it."

The tabaxi had crept toward the nearest set of armor and now reached out a hand to prod at it.

"How am I supposed to not think about it when I clearly already have?" Sky asked with a lash of her tail, hand still raised.

"Don't. Touch. Anything." Jhelnae growled.

"Fiiine," the tabaxi sighed, spinning towards the stairway. "I think we're supposed to go upstairs."

"I do not like these suits of armor," Saliyra muttered. "So, by all means, let's go up."

"As you said, it is a wizard's tower," Lhytris suddenly rasped. "We may find things we like less upstairs."

The Chessentan scout gave the pallid-skinned man a surprised look, as did the half-drow and the rest of the group. He rarely spoke.

"We broke into one, remember," Lhytris went on, his gaze distant, as if speaking to himself. "It is one of my last memories from... before."

Iandro, the Zhentarim healer, gave a slight cough to catch his companion's attention. A wordless shake of his head seemed to bring Lhytris back to the present. The man's eyes focused, and he fell silent.

"So... upstairs?" Sky prompted as the silence stretched.

"Upstairs," Kuhl agreed with a nod.

The air of abandonment persisted on the second level, where a kitchen and several closed doors — perhaps to storage rooms or living quarters — waited in silence. Cobwebs veiled the corners of the ceiling, and a thin layer of dust coated the jars and the gaps in the poorly stocked shelves. The only sign of life was a partly-filled cauldron of stew hanging above a low cook fire, the contents stirred rhythmically by a serving spoon held aloft by no visible hand.

"That stew smells good," Gorath mused, eyeing the cauldron.

It did smell good, rich and savory, reminding Jhelnae they hadn't eaten in awhile.

"I think we just missed mealtime," Kelvane said, nodding toward a wash basin overflowing with used dishes.

"You really want to eat stew stirred by an invisible servant in a wizard's tower?" Aligor asked mildly. "Before we've been given leave by the resident wizard?"

"Morning Glory Blade is a cursed elf-spider," the former gladiator grumbled under his breath. "First thing she did as a host, feed us."

"She's a bard," Rhianne said from the shadows of her hood, her voice dry. "Not a wizard."

Her tone implied that distinction explained everything.

The floating orb of violet light continued its hovering ascent in the center of the shaft, guiding them upwards to the third floor.

The third level opened into a common area, its floor space filled with tables, chairs, and a sofa. A faint citrusy scent lingered in the air, reminiscent of sunlight and the surface, just noticeable beneath the stew's aroma wafting up from the kitchen. Several open doorways revealed simple bedchambers beyond, their interiors sparsely furnished.

The faint swish of fabric against wood could just be heard over their footsteps on the stairs. Another unseen servant worked here, a floating rag wiping down the tables.

"That reminds me of Lif," Aleina whispered. "I wish we were back in the Trollskull."

Jhelnae nodded, wishing the same, but the Trollskull was far away. Rather than heading upstairs to their bedroom after a day at the Market, they were in the demon infested Underdark, climbing the stairs of a wizard's tower to supposedly meet a drow archmage — whenever he chose to finally show himself and be a proper host. The floating globe of light led them onward to the fourth floor — Vizeran's library and laboratory.

"I wonder if he has any good chapbooks," Jhelnae murmured.

Aleina huffed a quiet laugh.

"These librarians don't seem like the type who lend out books," she said.

Four suits of armor like the ones below guarded the entrance to this level. They stood silent and imposing, greatswords clasped with their blades pointed upward rather than resting on the floor. Though motionless, the tilt of their helmets conveyed a watchful vigilance, as if ready to challenge anyone who stepped off the spiraling stairway.

Beyond them, bookcases packed with eldritch volumes lined the circular walls of the chamber, their spines adorned with strange sigils and faded lettering. Between the shelves, alcoves housed curiosities — a collection of crystalline vials, a tarnished mirror, and an ancient astrolabe.

Jhelnae recognized the last one from the all-too-in-depth description of such a device by a noble at a party at Renaer Neverember's manor, Brandarthall, back in Waterdeep. The man had spoken endlessly about astronomy, encouraged on through Aleina's polite listening and attentive nods — despite the half-drow's pointed death stares at her. But what possible use could an astrolabe have down here, in the Underdark?

Tables and shelves crowded the rest of the space, cluttered with alchemical apparatuses and specimen jars.

"Golorr says that used to be a golem," Sky said, pointing.

A collection of broken obsidian statuary lay on a sturdy table — a larger-than-life head, neck, and partial chest of a drow, accompanied by three muscular arms and a foot. The jagged edges of the pieces suggested they had been violently shattered.

Jhelnae and Aleina shared a look.

"When we get back to Waterdeep she is giving that damned stone to Laeral, like she promised," the aasimar muttered, shaking her head.

The air carried the scent of old parchment, burnt incense, and the sharp tang of alchemical reagents. In one section of the library stood a polished zurkhwood desk, its surface dominated by an open tome filled with arcane diagrams and spidery script scrawled across its pages. Beside it rested a cluster of silver amulets and etching tools, as though someone had been in the midst of transferring the diagrams onto the amulets — but the work remained unfinished.

No dust dulled the drow silk carpets covering the stone floor on this level and their intricate patterns gleamed faintly in the glow of the floating light. But they bore the scars of years of abuse — scorch marks, faint chemical stains, and ragged edges where acidic compounds had eaten through the weave to reveal patches of bare stone beneath.

The glowing orb of violet light continued its ascent, guiding the group upward. Unlike the previous floors, the fifth level was enclosed, its entrance sealed by a sturdy, iron-banded zurkhwood door.

Sky paused to peer at the lock as she passed.

"By all that dances," Jhelnae said. "Don't even think about it."

"Why does everyone keep saying that after I clearly already have?" the tabaxi replied, not bothering to look back for an answer.

Golden light filtered down from above, and the half-drow caught the murmur of conversation drifting from higher up. It seemed the group had finally reached Vizeran and others and they pressed on, following the winding staircase toward the tower's top level. As they neared the top, Jhelnae began to understand the spoken Elvish and recognized the voices. Emerging from the stairwell, the group arrived just in time to witness a stare-off.

"You saw a vision of who brought the plague of demons upon us," Vizeran said, his gaze focused on Raelyn. "Yet you remain faithful to the Dark Mother?"

Raelyn sat on a long sofa, clad in the barely-there dragon scale armor gifted by the air genasi, Sophiya — a striking vision of ebony skin and shimmering crystalline scales. Vizeran, in his flowing dark green robes, was in a comfortably appointed chair opposite her, a low table in between them. Beside the archmage stood his bodyguard, Kleeve — the humanoid, demonic toad-like creature with rows of sharp teeth glinting in the golden light, his mouth slightly ajar.

Jhelnae felt Aleina nudge her knee and glanced down. The aasimar surreptitiously pointed with a lowered hand, raising an eyebrow in quiet appreciation. On the other side of Kleeve sat a young drow. His slightly mussed, shoulder-length silver hair caught the light as he shifted in his chair. Dressed in a charcoal-grey robe that complemented his slender frame, he had sharp features and amethyst colored eyes. His gaze flicked between Vizeran and the drow woman across from the archmage, tension evident in his posture.

The half-drow gave her friend the barest hint of a smile in silent agreement. Whoever the young drow was — Vizeran's apprentice, perhaps — he was handsome.

To Raelyn's side, her brother Fel'rekt sat, hunched over the table, fully absorbed in cleaning his smoke powder weapon on the low table. Next to him was Sophiya. She looked so different from the first time the half-drow had seen her. Rather than her crystalline dragon scale armor she wore the form-fitting dark studded leather of the drow which hid the strength giving tattoos twining down her arms and legs. Her previously dyed blazing red hair was now cut short and its natural white.

The genasi's brother, the golden and lacquered wood construct, Koger, sat in another chair. Behind him stood his creation, Ancilla, a silver shield maiden who bore a striking resemblance to his sister, though her alloy crafted braids were now longer than Sophiya's hair. The runes and sigils carved into their forms glowed softly — Koger's a golden yellow and Ancilla's an azure blue.

Adding to this curious assembly was a spherical metallic creature standing near the constructs. The odd little being had two arms, two legs, and a pair of rudimentary mechanical wings. The strange creature swiveled to study the newcomers with a single, central eye, which whirred and clicked as its lens adjusted to focus on them.

"How typical of a male — and a wizard — to presume to know the Dark Mother's designs," Raelyn said, giving Vizeran a condescending smile that quickly thinned. "The pattern of chaos she weaves is beyond mortal comprehension and only she knows the myriad outcomes that may result from our actions — actions she'll have predicted. So, yes, I oppose this demonic incursion into our Underdark, even if she might have wrought it. And still, I know I do her will."

The archmage absorbed her words for a moment, then gave a resigned shrug and shook his head.

"Very well," he said. "As long as our purposes align."

"Our purposes align," Raelyn agreed, her chin rising. "But understand, I will not abide blasphemy against the Dark Mother. So, choose your words with greater care."

The two drow locked gazes and, to Jhelnae's surprise, it was Vizeran who relented, posture wilting slightly and giving a small nod of acquiescence. He sat back and took a breath, his eyes traveling to the four suits of armor positioned at the edges of the room — similar to the ones already encountered on the floors below — and then to Kleeve at his side as he released it. This seemed to restore some of his confidence and he straightened in his chair then turned to acknowledge the arrival of Jhelnae and her group.

"You have arrived," he said, his sharp eyes settling on the half-drow. "But why climb the stairs when the levitation spell cast on the central shaft would have been far quicker?"

"Levitation spell?" Jhelnae asked, tilting her head in inquiry.

"She's from the surface," Fel'rekt said, snapping the cylinder of his smoke powder weapon closed with a decisive clack before slipping it into a belt holster. "She doesn't know of the levitation magic typically found in the compounds of noble houses."

"Ah, a surfacer," Vizeran said, a smug smile twitching to his lips. "Of course."

"Wait," Sky interjected, perking up. "There's a levitation spell on that shaft?"

She pointed back toward the staircase.

Raelyn gave a slight nod. "Speak the word ku'lam to rise, and—"

She cut off abruptly, red eyes widening as the tabaxi darted back down the spiraling stairway.

"She's just going down a level to try it," Kuhl offered.

He winced in apology as the clatter of boots continued to echo downward.

"Maybe two levels…" he amended, wince deepening as the sound of footsteps faded further.

"Or…" Jhelnae sighed with a shrug. "All the way down."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. The half-drow took in more of the surrounding sanctum while they waited, trying to look anywhere but their host's hardening, increasingly impatient expression.

"Is that a teleportation circle?" Aleina asked, nodding towards a section of the floor inlaid with a golden circle enclosing a geometric pattern of arcane whorls and sigils.

"It is," Vizeran answered, tone clipped.

"Doesn't the faerzress…" Rhianne began.

"The faerzress makes Underdark teleportation highly dangerous," the archmage said, cutting the darkling bard off. "I've never used it. Never would unless the need was dire."

After what seemed like an awkward eternity, Sky's head emerged, as she floated up and out of the shaft.

"It works!" she called out, her tail lashing as she hovered at the top for a moment before stepping back onto the floor. "You all have to try this."

"You should," Vizeran said, breathing a sigh. "The command word to descend is aluhal'kafion, and to halt, say ilkalik. But before you indulge in such trivialities, please sit. Let us continue the discussion we began in Gravenhollow."

As usual I am curious as to how this works. I found the module set up a bit awkward because the doors to the tower open on the ground floor, but, based on what I read Vizeran waits for them on the sixth floor. This means a walk up six floors and six floors of description. I thought about having Vizeran wait on the first floor (there is a throne there after all) but decided to keep it as true to the module as possible.

EDIT: I forgot to add in Vizeran's apprentice! I added him in.