So there they were…
…Flying towards the Mournland; the dead, devastated land formerly known as the great artisan nation of Cyre.
The magnificent Captain Rhogar was at the helm since dawn; longcoat over his armor and a tricorn hat atop his black scaled head. The lizardman looked every bit a captain… though his fear of heights continued to peek through. At the helm, his jaws were clenched, and could only give the briefest of answers.
The lizardman was curtly answering all the piloting and navigation questions of Ruth, recent competitor in the Race of the Eight Winds, former lover to former party member Shadowale, and roguish niece to the aged archmage and friend of the party known as Winnefred.
A quartet of yet-to-be-officially-named, red-shirted goblins from the Cogs scrambled about checking things throughout the airship, assisted from time to time by the tinkering kobold manservant known as Kaz. A dwarf named Montgomery Dwarf and Kaz worked in the engineering room below deck, keeping an eye on the intricate workings of this experimental, fire-powered airship. Lastly, the warforged known as Chef was preparing a pleasant traveler’s lunch of scrumptious, meaty kebabs and flat bread for the PCs.
The tiefling sorceress Comfort, the half-orc barbarian Ula, the dwarf cleric Francis, the human wizard Kylar, the human monk Turnin, and the gnome barbarian Gnofulk all lunched after a blessing of sorts from the cleric.
The ate as leisurely as the ship moved. Referred to as the Burning Inquiry by its builders by never actually christened, an intrepid gnome had painted over the name in the night, dubbing the airship The Jackalope’s Folly.
The party ate and drank and discussed a small detour desired by Kylar, back towards a shadow-themed community from very early on in their adventures. The wizard brought the rest of the party up to speed on their little adventure with this reclusive community…
The short of it, was that a group of people were terrified by the world around them. The devastating Mourning event was particularly unsettling, and they banded together near a long-forgotten tower. A shadow demon had made a secret pact with the group’s leaders; protection and safety, in exchange for their shadows. A magical bargain. The party had snuck in, killed the leaders, and fought the shadow demon, setting fire to the tower in the process, as he was hard to see.
As it turned out, the accidental cultists were actually pretty relieved to be free of the pact, and after putting out the fire and shattering a magic crystal, they got their shadows back, though many members of the community – Shades – had gained/retained the ability to warp shadows around them. Kylar had given the fledgling community mundane weapons scrounged from their earlier adventures, and they had all parted ways pleasantly. It had been a year or so (time is hard to track for an adventurer), and the wizard was wondering how the group was getting along.
Soon, the ship paused at the edge of the forest; the community was only a few miles away. For better or for worse, the airship could get no closer without igniting the canopy; it could only hover a maximum of few hundred feet above the ground, not nearly high enough to get over the forest and get closer. It was time for the party to disembark.
Turnin used his staff catapulted himself off the side of the shup, using his monk skills to land safely. Comfort also jumped off, casting Feather Fall to slow her descent. Gnofulk had harnessed Nutasha, and the flying squirrel sprung off, gliding into the forest. Ula had donned a pair of the “wingies” from one of the numerous railing compartments, and was also floating down towards the ground, massive tower shield at her back.
Kylar and Francis look upon their showboaty companions, unlatch a skiff, and fly down to join their compatriots. On the ground, all but Gnofulk and Nutasha hop about the skiff, and with Francis at the tiller, begin slowly picking their way through the forest. Rhogar will keep the ship here, waiting.
It isn’t long before the party is greeted by two familiar bearded human faces – the Steve’s are waiting for them, and they brought a nice chocolate cake! They heard the party was coming, and just could wait to meet them. Ula and Francis dig into the cake with their hands, and the Steve’s chad and guide the party back to the community, and they pass a small sign, declaring the place as the Shady Tower Township.
The community has done well for itself in the last year. The forest is not particularly dense, but some trees has been felled and replaced with small farms. Travel is frequent enough that distinct paths becomes visable as the parts nears the tower, which now has a roof and looks to have been repaired. All the hovels seem to have been upgraded too, and approach what most would term as houses.
Several members of the community recognize Gnofulk, Turnin, and Kylar from before, and wave, or give simple nods or salutes as they go about their business, acknowledging their freedom as a result of the party’s actions. The group disembarks outside of the palisade, and is brought inside the wall.
Naris, greets them, his shadow still swirling around him. Previously a missionary or sorts, drawing people to the community, he now leads it as the elected mayor. He and the Steve’s invite the party to sit, drink, and finish off the cake.
The party will learn that the community has been busy. They’ve already seen the upgrades around the township, and naris will relate that they’ve been making progress reintegrating into the greater society of Breland. The world is still scary, but they’re trading with nearby towns, and the Shades – former missionaries of the cult – have been repurposed into a bit of spy network, slowly spreading throughout the continent of Khorvaire.
The township has heard all about the dramatic Race of the Eight Winds, the party’s acquisition of the experimental airship, and their departure from Sharn. They’ve also heard of warforged traveling to the Mournland, though do not know the goals of the Perpetual Legion. Still, the warforged are most adept at surviving that intolerable place; their repairs are unaffected by the magical upheavals in the region that prevents all other kinds of healing or natural processes.
Unfortunately, the spies are more concerned with the living than the dead – and have sent no agents into the Mournland. They know arguably less than the party here. Also unfortunately, the party is disinterested in anything besides information on the Mournland. They say misfortune comes in threes, and lastly, unfortunately, Turnin makes an unconvincing argument to the Steve’s to join them, so the crew loses out on two stealthy best friends and their baking and guarding skillsets.
Naris gives the party a final tour of the tower; the bottom floors for community activities and spy networking; the uppermost floor his private little room. The repairs have been great, and there is no sign of the destructive fire!
The party soon decides that it is time to leave, and after the pleasant afternoon of wine, cake, and catching up, again part on good terms with the community. The majority pile back into the skiff, while Gnofulk remounts Nutasha, climbs to the top of the tower and jumps off, gliding back into the forest.
They soon find their way back to the airship, and ascends with the skiff. With Ruth at the helm, they depart, and the party retires for the evening, save for a brief bout of insomnia from Francis, who after a few words with one of the goblin deckhands, decides sleep is definitely preferable to conversation with a goblin.
The morning comes, and the airship is gracefully traveling parallel with the lightning rail. A few trains have passed along the trip, moving far faster than the airship. In the late morning, another train zips by. From his Titanic-like perch near the front of the airship, Francis can see, that about a mile ahead, stones and rocks start battering the train; a trio of giants of some sort seem to be tossing rocks.
The cleric alerts the rest of the party, and weapons are readied. While damaged, the train has not been derailed. The party decides they don’t want to risk damaging the airship and decide at the last minute to give the giants a wider berth. When the giants do see them, rocks still fly, but fall short, and the airship continues on its way. Getting a better look at the giants as they pass, Francis thinks they are rather young hill giants, and the party congratulates themselves on not murdering children.
They continue, following the conductor stones of the lightning rail further and further east, towards the Mournland. As the afternoon wanes, they spot a massive fortification in the distance that should be no more than a tower.
As they approach, they see that the tower is there, with a bustling market surrounding it. The unexpected fortification nearby, is actually a massive, grounded airship, the elementals and presumed energy wings all encased within, protected by thick armor and numerous weapons.
A few party members have heard of these massive ships; of the half dozen or so built by Breland in the Last War, several were lost in the war. The status of several more are unknown, presumably on missions. Only the location of the Argonth is roughly known; it’s mission to patrol Breland’s boarders.
After a brief conference, the party decides this is not worth their time, and continue on. A final evening comes and goes, and at dawn, the party stands on the main deck, watching the border of the Mournland, a dense and supernatural fog, get closer and closer… 
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