A Battle Fought... A Hero Lost...

Seeing the end near, the last remaining Bane-ite in the Tower Goldenhawk threw down his sword and offered the heroes some much needed information.

I am apart of a much larger force, known in the south as the Black March. It originated in a place known as the Black Circle, and its command is that of Barric. A fanatical devotee of Bane. His view is a unified North. One under his iron rule. He invades, kills those that oppose him and enslave the rest. The few of us that show signs of strength he takes to a place where your will is stripped and soul broken so that you can be rebuilt into... he gestures at himself... this. I dont know his plan beyond my instructions to keep guard over Dreus Metrend and the rest of this party.

With that said he awaits the party's instruction but a will stronger than his own takes hold and he wanders into the adjoining room, and flings himself into the caustic goop that fills the black cauldron inside it.

Bane giveth. Bane taketh away.

The heroes, gather what they can from the bane-ites and clear the dead away. But as they do a spectral form come from below. The Shadowed form of Dreus Metrend. Her semi-clawed hands grasp the shoulders of Lia and with a cackle both are dragged into the solid granite of the tower foundation...