You spend an agonizing night on the small canoe floating, almost aimlessly, away from Castle Naerytar. You are plagued with nightmares of both the horrors that traversing the Mere alone could bring but also with what is happening to the companions that you have travelled with for over a year.
“Who survived?” “If they are alive…would you even be able to help them?”
As if the doubt wasn’t enough, Tymora almost seems to be laughing at your situation. When you catch your coin after a flip it feels heavy, almost as if the weight is to much to bare.
This is going to be a long night….
While you sleep your mind is a storm of synapse. You dream of taking down the cult, and that even without your companions that should still be your purpose. The lady is still granting you life the worst thing you could do is retreat back to Waterdeep and go back to the street rat you used to be. You had a mission and the fate of the Realms rests on a few shoulders…maybe even yours
You wake up and realize that going back the way you came is perilous. The only way that you have a chance of surviving is finding out who is alive at Nearytar and somehow escaping together. Or at the very least finding some means of travel at Nearytar that isn’t back through the Mere of Dead Men.
You arrive almost in the same spot as the destination you teleported into. Across the river you still see a mass of corpses congregated inside the smouldering Lizardfolk camp. You do not see any of your companions though. Etiher they survived or have been moved…hopefully the former. That’s when you see it, Tiny, in full Dragonclaw regalia ordering around some low level cult initiates.
What do you do?