It is an odd coincidence that, with the first adventure that my friends and I began on the festival of Crystal Fall, our second adventure should have its origins during the festival of the Day of Mourning. Not that you could call The Day of Mourning a "festival" but rather a day of sombre reflection that encourages us to think of the death and distruction wrought by the Last War in general and the annihilation of Cyre in particular.
It was now the fourth anniversary of the mysterious and cataclysmic blast that devastated Cyre, ending so many lives in an instant and leading to it being re-christened Mournland. The blast's origins were still as much a mystery as they were then, though there was no end of theories amongst those that study magic and even more from those turned into refugees without a country. A number of those refugees had found their way to Sharn and built a community for themselves in Lower Tavick's Landing, in a district called High Walls. The area was poor, the less kind would call it a slum, but they had made it their own.
It was War-Forged who had, in an uncharacteristic display of humanity, expressed a desire to go to the sober, rain swept communion in Tavick's Landing.
A little over a week had passed since our return from The Cogs and with one exception we were none the worse for our adventure. That one exception was Fraiya who, two days after our return to the surface of Sharn had been struck down with a raging fever. He had managed to convince the proprietor