The party winds their way through the streets of Torch and around the great Black Hill itself, passing by a group of familiar guards as they haul the body of the metal man and a sack full of swept up parts back in the opposite direction--casting glances at the group that show a mix of awe and annoyance. After several minutes of travel, seeming all the longer with the ticking clock now in the back of everyone's minds, the party arrives at the Weeping Pond.

The placid-looking pond is set off from the surrounding area by a crescent-shaped escarpment. No vegetation grows on the banks and no fish live in these waters which carry a bitter stink of sulfur and other chemicals, enough to make the eyes water after spending too much time on the shore. The thought of swimming in these waters, let alone breathing them in, is enough to make most gag.

Brokam eyed the water skeptically, his mind racing with all the infections and diseases one could likely contract from that water, but he knew there was no other way. He paused to ensure the packs were properly sealed, rolled up his sleeves and sighed.
“Let’s get this over with,” He said, making his way to the polluted water.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:14, Tue 03 Aug 2021.