Following on from game 12 you all were aboard Bahamuts Glory, cleaning up after the events of the last game. You had previously taken out some large swathes of the undead army with the ordinance aboard the Glory and after running out of ammo moved in to land on the Nentir River at the northern dock of Fallcrest. After mooring at the dock you decamped with a detachment of Silver Dragons and headed to the castle. En route you met up with a small detachment of Fallcrest guardsmen hastily trying to secure the northern gate. As you chipped in, piling debris against the doors a detachment of Orcs broke through using a battering ram, but not before Dumah had climbed to the top of one of the guard towers and spotted them coming. Heroically leaping onto the invaders Dumah joined the fray with the rest of the party, who made short work of the small expeditionary force. Leaving half of your bonus troops behind to help sure up the door the party headed onwards to the castle. Upon reaching the castle gates you were ushered into an inner chamber where Lord Faren Markelhay, ruler of Fallcrest was discussing the invasion with a team of advisors, chief among them being the nervous Jaer of Rel-Astra (a Scrutineer from the Library’s Department of Research and External Affairs) and Nimozaran the senile head of the Fallcrest Magician’s Guild (and crochet circle). Some of the remaining townspeople were ushered to the Glory to be evacuated, whilst a large number of the others were to go with Nimozaran to the [[Septarch’s Tower]], the location of the only rune circle in Fallcrest. Markelhay and his brain trust believed that the undead currently threatening the Wizard’s Gate to the east were being directly controlled by a necromancer holed up in a farmhouse not far from Fallcrest. Nimozaran could not think of how a large force of the dead could be raised so quickly, and posited that the force had not been created with individual animus, but instead shared that of the necromancer. Scaling the castle walls and making your way down the sharp embankment to the once peaceful fields of Fallcrest you saw the full extent of the situation. Corpses of orcs, humans and undead littered the scarred fields. Under the cover of dusk, aided by the smoke drifting from destroyed siege equipment and corpse piles you made your way to the farm house undetected by the units of undead. Reaching the farm you were met with three units of troops, a mixed force of orc and undead proles. After transforming them into quivering wrecks/masses of flesh/piles of ash you investigated the barn. A moments and one shovel-head interface later you were face to face with an orc Chieftain, his shaman and a pale human necromancer, after despatching these scallywags and their bodyguard who were hiding out in the house opposite the party headed back to Fallcrest. Entering through the Wizard’s Gate, bodies of fallen undead lay in droves; proving Nimozaran's hypothesis. Picking your way through the corpses you reached the tower just as Jaer of Rel-Astra was exiting en route to the castle to find a scroll he had left behind. Dumah and Aasgarth escorted the jumpy librarian to the castle whilst Cyvaar, Giles and [[Burn’ard]] climbed to the top of the tower, only to find the copse of Lord Markelhay sprawled in a pool of his own blood within the runed circle at the tower’s uppermost room. On further inspection Cyvaar noticed that the circle had been subtly subverted with runes that suggested a link to the Shadowfell. Meanwhile Aasgarth and Dumah waited whilst Jaer of Rel-Astra picked through the piles of belongings left behind in the castle chambers. Unfurling the scroll Jaer of Rel-Astra aimed a malign grin at the pair before reading a single word and vanishing. Catching up with the two at the castle the part recounted what they had both seen, but before they had a chance to digest what had happened, a commotion outside drew their attention. The Silver Dragons were busy hurriedly ushering the remaining civilians onto the glory. Seeing the party the guardsmen on the ship began gesturing frantically. More feeling than hearing the footfalls of some giant creature you ran for the glory, which was already beginning its slow ascent. Grabbing the rigging hastily thrown over the side of the vessel, you narrowly escaped the thunderous miasma of the breath of a huge blue dragon.