Chapter 13: The Ghostlord of Thornwaste
Departing Starsong Hill astride giant owls, the adventurers soar high above the lands below, trekking south to Thornwaste. First, they sweep over the dark tangle of bramble and pine of the Witchwood, but then later, several hours later, beyond the dark roll of woods, they spot several plumes of smoke on the horizon, in the settled lands of Elsir Vale!
Ahead, they spot The Dawn Way. Along its stretch, they see smoke rising from where they guess might be the towns of Nimon's Gap, Terrelton and...yes, even Drellin's Ferry!
Passing over the first, Nimon's Gap, they see a burned out husk of charred debris where the town once stood. There is no movement within the town and their wild elf guides do not linger too long to permit anything more than a cursory view of the ruin and devastation.
Later, they come up on Terrelton. It too is now little more than burned out buildings and debris, the Red Hand's trail of destruction utterly complete and without any regard for life or property. Smouldering fires burn here or there, but save for a few stray dogs picking through the debris, there are few signs of activity within the remnants of the small town.
The wild elves veer their winged mounts in a more southerly direction now, avoiding passing directly over Drellin's Ferry, but in the distance, the adventurers can see the same dark smoke rising from that town. For now, they can only speculate as to the fate of the town where their adventures began. If Terrelton or Nimon's Gap are any indication, the prospects are quite grim indeed.
Several hours pass as the adventurers fly over the vale's sparsely settled, southern reaches. Soon, they pass into the Thornwaste. The land is truly a maze of broken hills, briar-choked ravines, and thistle-clogged fissures. Viewing this terrain from overhead, if there's one thing the group can be thankful for, it is the benefit of passing through this inhospitable land astride a giant owl and not overland!
Their wild elf guides deftly navigate toward a mesa in the distance, eventually landing on a low hill a few hundred yards distant. The wild elves have been given strict instructions to offer transportation to and from the Ghostlord's lair, but are forbidden from entering the lair. Instead, the wild elve guides busy themselves by setting up camp atop the hill while the adventurers view what must certainly be the lair in the distance...
Rising from a low mesa is an intimidating sight. A massive lion of stone crouches, as if ready to pounce on a nearby hill. The cyclopean monolith is composed of a dull tawny stone. It looks to be about 240 feet in length, and the top of its maned head rises over eighty feet from the ground. There seems to be some sort of hollow between the lion's front paws, in the area bordered by its chest. Likewise, hints of a dark cave are apparent in its gaping maw.
It is now late afternoon, about 4 hours before sunset.