DM:
The blackness that filled your senses begins to fade. Feeling returns to your limbs, and you notice that it’s warmer than it was a moment ago. Cool, not cold, without wind but plenty of moisture in the air.
Vision returns and you realize that you’re on your backs, staring up at the sky. What little of it you can, that is, for three massive trees, their leaves a riot of autumn colors, are spread out above you.
Pushing yourselves upright, you glance around. You’re in a forest clearing about two hundred feel long and half that wide. The ground is lumpy with large chunks of partially-buried rock covered over with grass and brush.
It doesn’t register at first with the dark haired elf where he is. It didn’t matter at first. He’d been caught unaware, and the first thing to do when you’re caught unaware is to set about creating a defense. Surprise is deadly no matter where you are.
He oriented himself away from Krackor, knowing that it was only a matter of moments before the dwarf indulged himself in his most basic instinct—to bray into the void and alert every danger around them.
He hissed at Kora to follow his lead, but did not pay attention to whether or not she heeded him. His human apprentice decided for herself what of his counsel was worth following.
Krackor Steelfist:
The sway of his thoughts calming, gathering himself, the young Dwarf proclaimed loudly... Gorm, Fire Eyes, I stand here before you, Krackor Steelfist, Guardian of the Dreams of the Ancients Exploration Company, Barakor of the Bronze Mask. I know not where we are and have lost half of my people. It was beyong my control, I ask for your guidance!
Corym cringed. Foreknowledge that a thing is about to happen still doesn’t prepare you for the terror of its actual occurrence. He squeezed the stone he hid behind in frustration. Marble?
DM:
As your heads begin to clear, you begin to take in more of your surroundings. The rocks aren’t random boulders; it’s fine marble that was shaped and carved before it was broken and scattered. The clearing isn’t a clearing; it’s a park grown wild, with mounds of dirt and grass that were once benches and patches of surfaced stone that were once walkways.
And it isn’t a forest. This was a city. A ruined city. You can see buildings every way you turn. Most are graceful spires of stone or crystal, but there are a few wooden walls perched atop massive trees.
All of them are damaged. Some have been completely destroyed. One tower close to you has been cleaved down the center, its left side standing with its floors drooping out into nothing over the broken remnants of its right. Across the way a building whose out wall undulates like a frozen wave has lost everything about its first floor; the walls reaching upward like broken teeth. To your left you see the outline of a building, all that’s left of its walls an unnaturally-straight grassy mound no higher than your knee.
Rain and wind and dirt have stained the once-bright stonework, scraped away all but faint touches of paint. Broken windows stare out at you like maddened eyes.
Teleportation or gate. Gate, definitely a gate. What city? A ruined city. With a forest. Towers.
Ascalhorn?
DM:
You aren’t where you were a few moments before. And a few of you are coming to realize exactly where you are.
Myth. Drannor. On the one hand, Myth Drannor was a dream. A limitless supply of ancient wisdom, knowledge, and Art to be reclaimed for the use of the People. There was no better place for his work. This was what his father had lived for. But also, it was a nightmare. A demon infested hellscape nightmare with a fine sprinkling of the undead and magical mutants.
Katarn:
Katarn shook his head as it spun from the sudden shift and looked around at the over grown and ruined structures around him. He rolled on his side and looked around. "Well Finder-of-Trails, where have you sent me now?" Katarn said with a dark chuckle. Then he heard the ruckus of a dwarf calling out loudly to Gorm Fire Eyes and he turned towards the other figure as he sat up.
"Katarn of Citadel Adbar, is meself. I was traveling the passes in the Rauvin Mountains when suddenly I found meself layin' on me back here." He put the head of his morningstar on the ground and used handle to lever himself up to standing, while he looked around more where they found themselves. "Any of you lot know where we be now? Sounds like you lot're missin' some friends. If any of ye're hungry I've some food for yer bellys."
Two dwarf priests!?! The Trickster must be rolling.
“Please stop. Both of you. Please. We need to get out of sight, now. We are in the very heart of peril.” Corym spoke emphatically but quietly. He does not reveal himself, but does begin looking for a sheltered place for them to regroup.