Slaad Salad

It looks like we're going to diverge from the premade campaign now. A lot.

We are all standing outside.

We were roused from our beds, my companions and I. There is an emergency. Apparently some hapless adventurer's had awoken some dark evil.

Michael Farewell gave us the rundown, and we're off to see the guildhouse.

Peace, the Tiefling War Cleric.
Andelo Than, the Human Battlemage.
Deavon Windstrider, the Fighter.
Kate Abbernathy, the Halfling Rogue.

Lady Silverhand is in conference with Farawell, and there are several of the Emerald Enclave here as well.

We're joined by a few of the other members of our company, Private Drak, Private Al, and Private Settle.

Silverhand joins Hornblade and the Emerald Enclave representative in a ritual, which starts walling the afflicted guildhall from the rest of the material plane.

But the process is slow, and things are escaping. Eldritch mouthers emerge from the walls, and mephits and slaads start pouring out of the wood work. Black oozes emerge from the earth around it.

We take on our duty, killing Mephits and oozes. The Slaads prove the greatest challenge, and we nearly fall to them until Kate takes out her force cube, prevent ourselves and the ritualists from harm.

We watch as more creatures poor out from the rift, including even a terrifying death slaad, as well as several intellect devourers.

The barrier around the guildhall flashes black as the ritual finishes, but just before, a man steps out. Luke Butler.