Adon of Sune… Adon of Midnight.

Fizzl Whipsbang… Fizzl Tyrshand.

What is the name that means "hero?"

Was it a small kender who once gave her life for her compatriots, because it was right?  Or the healer who took his own life because in his moment of hubris he realized the weight of his crimes?

Thus parted the Heroes of the Dark, as their raised children began to shape their own destiny.

The Cyrinishad had been destroyed.  Cyric the Mad would answer for his crimes.

The damage was done.  Midnight, Goddess of Magic, lay dead, and Mystra, the Goddess of Magic, was reborn.  Kelemvor, Lord of the Dead, balanced the gray wastes and reorganized the waiting grounds of the dead to punish the wicked and exalt the honored dead.  Many changes continued to rock the Planes, but the damage that could be undone, had been.

And in the heavens, in a place that was neither Light nor Dark, an image of stars and dark mist surrounding a vast miasma of twinkling worlds that lay upon all the Planes, the Hidden One, Ao, knelt before his Masters.

"The Realms are once again secure."

Fizzl was given a fascinating book called the Cyrinishad.

That was the day she stopped believing in anything but the awesome power of Cyric and started traveling among all the known libraries in Faerun, distributing copies.

The gods of the dark Seldarine have been returned to their Underdark homes to establish and cement their faith.  Their power remains fixed on the belief their followers manifest in their name.  Without them, a god can now wither, even fade away and die entirely.

As fledgling gods, the party remains bound to a mortal life and in need of followers to cement their future power.  Menzoberranzan may have belonged to Lolth for thousands of years, but the blink of an eye to a god is betrayed by her battle with Ellistrae and Vhaeraun, and she along with Ellistrae were cast into the Pit of Ghaunadar during the same battle.  As one power fought for the World Above, another battled for the World Below—and in the end both lost.

The demigod Zin'zarena has awakened from her sleep, free from Lolth's smothering influence, but she is effectively mortal and powerless, and watches from the sidelines as new gods seek to supplant her.

Vhaeraun has wasted no time in establishing himself as the power of the dark Seldarine.  Nevertheless he has extended an olive branch to "new friends."  But how much can the love of the God of Trickery be worth?

Meanwhile, in darker corners, another power stirs.  Not a god of Drow, the goddess Kiaransalee has also awakened, and sets in motion a series of events that will establish her as the new God of the Dead, in which case she will be the most powerful god in the World Below.

"Hell is your life gone wrong."

Inside the cave, the party found themselves in a gray waste, people milling about in and out of hovels as a great wailing sound originated from a great distance.  Moving forward for several hours, they found themselves lost in an abyss of gray buildings and lost people, each pleading for signs from their gods or family that make be looking for them.

"They've been waiting a long time for gods that aren't coming."  It was a familiar voice that identified what this place was.  Vedrin, lost to them many weeks before, stood alive… no, not alive… bearing the marks that caused his death.  "Don't worry, " he said, "it doesn't hurt anymore.  I scarcely notice in fact."  Then he looked them over as one of them blinked and said, "but you're not here to wait with us.  …you are still alive."

The dead, he told them, do not close their eyes.

The accusation brought a city of the dead's weight in pleas, but Vedrin led the party to safety, through twisting streets, until they reached a great spire constructed from bones, nested at the heart of the City of the Lost.

"You get good at hiding when they're looking for you here," he explained.  Vedrin died without faith, and as such it was his destiny to be buried in the Wall of the Faithless for all eternity.  The guards, tanar'i loyal to the god of the dead, would grind up mortar from dead too young to understand faith, and build a wall from their undying souls—including his.

Assisting one of the Faithless in diverting the guards, he explained, earned the same fate, which meant the party would need to step lightly.  They were now at risk themselves of never leaving.

The guards didn't need to find them, however.  The Drow, who value freedom and power above all else, declared that this fate was wrong.  All they needed to do… was kill a god.  Entering the castle yards, they found themselves among a host of tanar'i who challenged them for their impudence.  The fight was short and surprising, as one of the party extended their hand, and eldritch flame danced from her fingertips, exterminating the first tanar'i in a puff of black smoke.

Tanar'i, who desire power, but also existence, wisely took to wing and fled, as the party turned their attention on a member of their own who had exhibited the powers of the gods, which they had seen in Tantras a few nights before.

Deciding to "figure it out later," the party entered the Castle of Bone intent on slaying Myrkul, but they found him already gone, and the tablet claimed by another.  In that moment, on the mortal plane Cyric killed Myrkul and his gray waste began to fall apart.  In a pitched battle through the streets with the released tanar'i now feasting on the souls of the dead, the city itself breaking apart as the Castle of Bone collapsed under its own weight, the party miraculously found itself back on the ship.

The party completed its sojourn to Waterdeep in time to defeat the last vestiges of Bhaal's army, now under the control of one of their own turned against them.  It was when she was herself slain in the pitched battle that Cyric dashed by with the tablets and ran headlong for the celestial stair.  It was the booming voice, "ENOUGH!" that drove the entire world to its knees.

For their part in ending the Godswar, the party were elevated to godhood to build their dark Seldarine, and on their arrival they saw a curious sight… acres of unclaimed stone pillars, obelisks dedicated to as yet unknown gods, whose symbols of authority were as yet unwritten.

And beyond the sight of all, the Hidden One knelt to an even greater power as he declared, "The Realms are secure."

As the party begins to falter, a strange sight over the treetops calls their attention skyward.  It is a sailing ship, some sixty feet bow to stern in the shape of a massive…fish?  Not that they have ever seen a marlin, but they have seen the people who command her as they lean over the rail!

Teth and Ilithenlin have managed to resurrect an ancient Spelljammer taken by House Allevialir many centuries before, and uncovered its secrets.  With their new transportation in control, and the undead army massing beneath them suddenly losing interest in them and running toward Waterdeep, the party realizes the Tablets of Fate must be nearing the Celestial Stair, the last place where mortals can touch the planes of the gods and return at last what was stolen.

Whoever returns the tablets, they reason, we have the favor of the gods.  Envisioning a dark Seldarine pantheon, the party redoubles their efforts, only to discover the pulling call of the tablet directs them toward a small cave in a seemingly meaningless hillside.

Leaving guards aboard ship the party enters the cave, straight into the mouth of Hell itself.