Nearly ten hours after the Battle of Shadowdeep City, the stone pillar that marked the hours of the day in the Shadow Elf city rumbled. Under the influence of psionic energy, it pushed a mass of white flame that radiated heat and light high into the sky, heralding the arrival of a new day.
The family guards patrolling the city began changing shifts. Psionic mages sent another batch of apprentices to repair the damaged walls, while the civilians who had just left the shelters rummaged through the ruins of their homes, searching for anything they could still use.
Everyone in the Shadowdeep Tower was busy, too. They had barely gotten any rest all night.
The elven city, fresh from the insect disaster, ran like a wound-up machine. Among its visitors were quite a few Transians from foreign lands, wandering the city and admiring its exotic charm. Some even searched the city for people who could carry letters home for Transia's Shadow Elves.
A few more leisurely types were already enjoying the lull between battles at the city's taverns.
But while the players had been given a day off, their main-quest NPC, Lord Murphy, had no chance to rest. The vampire governor was yawning as the Silvermoon Group escorted him along yesterday's battlefield toward the hive.
"What's wrong, Lord Murphy? You look awful, as if you've lost a lot of vitality. You seem so weak, almost sick. Can even a powerful vampire like you get sick?"
Teranova, riding her cool "budget version of the Swarm Lord" mount, leaned over curiously to ask. Murphy gave her a flat look.
The vampire governor had no desire to answer such an awful question.
Mostly because his aching kidneys and pelvis were protesting nonstop, as if they were about to go on strike. Their protest