Gwen Kirsten Tyra Quinn MacGlowcken – blogpost 47

The moment I look out, I (still in Farryn’s body) can see the top of the tower in the miniature Waterdeep completely blown off. Debris hangs in the void of space. Above it all, the colossal figure of Mega Hallaster looms, tethered by massive glowing strands that stretch from him to the Undermountain far below. His form pulses with raw magical energy as if the mountain itself is feeding his immense power.

But my eyes are drawn to Stardock, the asteroid where the Githyanki reside. Hallaster is busy—terrifyingly busy—manipulating the asteroid itself. It’s moving, shifting through the void with horrifying intent. He’s directing it straight toward Waterdeep. Perched atop the asteroid, like a deadly sentinel, is the red dragon of Stardock.

My heart sinks. Am I the only one of my party here? That can’t be right. That better not be right. I need allies—now. I’ve got to get to the Githyanki and rally them before it’s too late.

Hallaster suddenly shifts his attention, his movements deliberate. In one hand, he grips a massive blast scepter, its energy radiating like the heat of a star. With the other, he shapes a glowing rune in the void, its lines jagged and impossibly sharp. He flings the rune toward Stardock, where it explodes in a cascade of destruction. Githyanki warriors and even the dragon are struck by its force. I watch helplessly as several Gith are crushed like insects.

And then, the asteroid groans under the force of Hallaster’s spell. The entire structure seems to ripple. Is it growing? No—it’s the planet below, Waterdeep, shifting as if responding to the asteroid’s pull. My breath catches in my throat.

The red dragon of Stardock launches herself toward Hallaster, her wings cutting through the void like blazing sails. Against his massive form, though, she looks pitifully small. With a single swat, Hallaster hurls her back, sending her spiraling. But she’s not alone—more young red dragons appear, flocking to her aid. They swarm around Hallaster, their fiery breath lighting up the darkness of space. It’s an awe-inspiring sight—an entire flight of dragons, united in their rage.

I feel the saucer beneath me hum with energy. It’s more than a machine now. It feels alive, and we’re connected. I can move fast—faster than I ever thought possible. I decide to make my move, steering the disk toward the asteroid. As I hover above the Githyanki forces and the circling dragons, I shout out, my voice amplified:

“Githyanki! Dragons! Hear me—it’s Farryn Flamel! I’m with the Disruptors! You know me and my party. CHARGE! Man the ships! Follow me!”

The words boom out, and I push the saucer to its limits. It flares with light, a beacon in the chaos. I channel everything I have into it, enlarging the disk, amplifying its radiance. It feels like a battle cry made physical.

Below, the Githyanki spring into action. They swarm toward their spelljammer ships—three of them—climbing aboard and manning the ballistae. The sight is invigorating. The Gith are rising to the fight, their movements precise, their determination fierce.

But Hallaster isn’t idle. He swings his massive scepter toward the mother dragon. A crackling thunderwave erupts from it, tearing through the void. Dragons scatter, blasted away by the sheer force of the attack. For a moment, I think the mother dragon might fall, but she roars defiantly, her fiery breath burning bright against the darkness.

And then—I see him. My breath catches. Floating near Hallaster, dwarven thrower in hand, is a miniature Farryn. The real Farryn Flamel. He’s alive. He’s fighting.

Joy and relief surge through me, almost overwhelming. The great Farryn Flamel—my companion, my brother-in-arms—is still here.

As I steer the saucer through the chaos, he spots me and shouts, “HEY GWEN! GREAT THAT YOU’RE HERE! Full steam ahead!” His words light a fire in me. The fight isn’t over—not yet.

I take in the scene. The mother dragon is struggling, her scales blackened and cracked. Githyanki riders mounted on younger dragons are taking the brunt of Hallaster’s relentless chain lightning. Bolts of electricity arc through the void, striking anything they touch. I see Farryn retaliating, hurling his dwarven thrower at Hallaster with all the force he can muster. It’s not enough.

Hallaster is already drawing another rune, the glowing lines forming in the air like cracks in reality itself. He flings it toward me and the ships—a blast of fire.

“CRAP.” My instincts kick in, and I call on the blessing of Laebos. I channel the divine energy, shielding me, and reducing the damage. My voice is defiant as I flip Hallaster the finger. “Take that, you oversized lunatic!” But then, I realize my mistake. The latch on the saucer is still open—how could I forget?

Around us, the dragons press their assault. Their fiery breath streaks toward Hallaster like lances of molten gold. Claws rake his enormous form, tails slam into him, and teeth snap at any vulnerable spot they can find. It’s a majestic and terrible sight—a flock of dragons against a godlike foe.

And then, I see another familiar figure. Jaf’ar. He’s alive! Relief and joy flood through me again, but the moment is short-lived. Hallaster notices him and swings his massive blast scepter. Jaf’ar narrowly avoids the strike, but I see blood spilling into the void as more young dragons fall, their cries echoing in the silence of space. It’s carnage—an awful, gut-wrenching sight.

A massive wall of fire suddenly springs up around Hallaster, the inferno licking outwards as if trying to consume everything. But Hallaster casually snaps his fingers, and it vanishes as quickly as it appeared. His control is unnerving, his power overwhelming.

And that’s when I make my decision.

This ends now.

I grip the controls of the saucer tightly, my resolve hardening. If it’s going to take self-sacrifice to stop him, then so be it. My trial… I didn’t complete it before. But this? This is my moment. No fear, no hesitation. I’m going to protect my party, Saffron, the dragons, the Githyanki, Undermountain, Waterdeep—the entire world.

“NO FEAR!” I scream, hurtling toward Hallaster at full speed. The saucer thrums with energy, almost like it shares my determination. Hallaster turns, sensing my intent. I am going to crash this saucer INTO Hallaster. His scepter swings toward me, but I don’t stop. The saucer slams into it, the impact shattering the weapon in a brilliant explosion of light and sound.

Darkness.

When I open my eyes, I’m in my own body again. Relief washes over me, but the memories rush in too—too many memories. I remember the saucer. I remember hurtling toward Hallaster. But more than that, I remember everything.

I was a dragon, if only for a brief, surreal time. I remember dying to the demi-lich, its horrible laughter echoing in my ears. I remember being killed by an ancient red dragon after Farryn did… something reckless with a smoking bottle. The pain of its claws cleaving into my chest flashes through me again. And then, there’s the most haunting memory of all—the realization that we were simulacra, and the horrifying necessity of taking our own lives.

My head spins. I push the memories aside and rush outside. My hands shake as I draw my weapon and fire. The shots go wide, my aim faltering under the weight of my shattered mind. But as I stare into the void, I see them—Farryn, Jaf’ar, and the others. Tiny specks against the massive form of Mega Hallaster, who seems even larger now, dwarfing everything around him.

But Hallaster isn’t invincible. I can see it. Burns streak his colossal form, and fragments of metal from the saucer have embedded into his flesh. He’s bleeding—just a little, but it’s enough to give me hope.

I watch as Hallaster focuses his power. He turns his attention to Stardock, his hands crackling with energy. A pulse of blue light erupts from him, telekinetic force surging toward the asteroid. I realize with horror what he’s doing. He’s shrinking. His wounds are closing, his massive frame receding slightly, but in exchange, Stardock is accelerating toward Waterdeep.

He’s healing himself, sacrificing his size to finish his terrible plan.