An outbreak has ravaged the inhabitants of gold dwarves of the good Rift. It begins slowly, however the development is devastating. One dwarf has eyes that experience develop into not easy and glassy like marbles; a moment dwarf has epidermis that flakes off in sharp, hardened scales; the skeleton of a 3rd is petrified and fused in position; a fourth wastes away with blood that has became darkish and muddy.
Clerical magic does not aid. Neither do natural treatments, nor spells intended to damage curses. And in all circumstances, demise is usually the same--the center blackens, hardens, and at last stops beating, killing each one sufferer with a center assault and turning the our bodies to stone.
It's referred to as the Stoneplague. it really is terrifying. And it truly is spreading.
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Extra resources for The Gilded Rune (Forgotten Realms)
He picked up Cathor’s dagger and sword and placed them in his pack besides, for stable degree. Then he stripped the rogue naked—there was once no telling what shape a mystical amulet may well take—and sure his wrists at the back of his again, utilizing rope from his Delver’s pack. He tied Cathor’s ankles in addition. ultimately, simply in case the rogue used to be able to magic, Torrin filled a gag in his mouth. All Torrin needed to do subsequent was once watch for the sleep poison to put on off. in the meantime, he prayed that Cathor didn’t have accomplices within reach. The cavern they’d teleported to, even though, used to be as quiet as a crypt. And, Torrin observed as he walked its circumference, it had no obvious exits, other than the slim fissure within the wall, which was once too slim for an individual to squeeze via. regardless of. The runestone used to be Torrin’s approach out—assuming he may well determine tips on how to use it. Torrin nudged Cathor along with his foot. The dwarf was once nonetheless subconscious, yet alive. “Don’t declare him but, Moradin,” Torrin prayed. “Not until eventually I’m performed with him. ” He pulled a lantern from his pack and lit it, then slid his goggles up onto his brow. He grew to become his recognition to the gadgets littering the ground. The flash was once sturdy gold, as he’d anticipated from how it bent lower than his boots. The molds have been those used to forged the cursed gold bars. He inspected the slit within the wall and observed that it resulted in a virtually completely around tunnel, might be a speed large, whose partitions have been covered with a crust of hardened gold. Torrin sniffed and stuck the faint smell of molten steel. “The River of Gold,” he breathed. He glanced round, shaking his head in ask yourself. A fortune lay at his ft, splashed throughout him like waste slag. even if he knew its function in spreading the stoneplague, he couldn’t support yet think a twinge of natural greed on the sight of it. All that wealth made his middle pound. His humans had a reputation for what he was once feeling: aetharn or “gold lust. ” With that a lot gold, he might cross wherever, do something. Fund the main unique delves somebody had ever dreamed of. Then he considered Eralynn, Kier, Ambril and her stillborn twins, and the loads of alternative dwarves who’d succumbed to the stoneplague, and the flavor of his fantasies soured. He’d alternate all of the gold within the cavern—all the gold within the world—for them to be alive back. He heard a faint move at the back of him. Cathor had woken up. He used to be feigning sleep, yet his shivers betrayed him. Torrin squatted subsequent to the dwarf. His anger banked as he stared at him. instead of fan it crimson scorching, Torrin permit it smolder. The time for vengeance—for justice—would come later. Cathor’s eyes opened. He strained at his bonds and shivered violently, both from the texture of chilly stone opposed to bare flesh or from worry. He shook his head and attempted to claim whatever. yet all that bought earlier the gag was once a moan. Torrin stared down at his captive. He pulled a tiny glass vial from his pack and confirmed it to Cathor. “This potion is equal to the one who compelled your half-elf good friend to speak, again on the inn,” he stated. “One means or the opposite, you’re going to drink it.