After your ship was attacked by a monstrous black, metal serpent, you spent the next day aboard a small dinghy with the only survivors; yourself a strong warrior of Pelor’s court, an elven wizard with a veritable library inside her multi-dimensional bag, a dwarven cleric also of Pelor, and a gnome thief who had stowed away aboard the ill-fated vessel.

After several days, you are out of rations and strong winds whip up the sea around you, threatening at weather to come. To your luck, before the storm clouds on the horizon make good this threat, your boat knocks against the queerest shore you’ve ever seen. Like a man-made cliff rising out of the water, a great fortress of black metal towers over you, and you can see its imposing gates nearby.

Wrestling against the waves, you make your way there and moor your boat in shelter just inside. Further in there is nothing to see but shadow of deepest black, however etched into the walls around you is the last message of the architect of this place. It reads:

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