The Black Sand Conspiracy

Summary of Events (11/20/2025):
11/27/4722

Ahhhh, the children have fallen. The battle is won—or is it?

As our so-called heroes stand victorious amid the scattered bodies, their triumph turns hollow. For in the silence that follows carnage, a voice screams from above! A window—third story—where a wild-haired man clutches something dark and crystalline. Black motes swirl around his hand like angry insects as he screams his outrage that you ruined his perfect vessels.

And then—POOF! Like smoke! Like shadow! He collapses into himself and vanishes, leaving only questions and… witnesses.

The children stir. Living witnesses. One girl—eight years old, blood-matted hair, brown eyes no longer white—she weeps and trembles and begs to not be hurt by our heroes anymore.

Jotaro’s Shining Fist towers over her threateningly, but wiser heads prevail. Shakoom—ever observant—notices the headbands. Black stones sewn into gray cloth, pressed against their skulls. Brain-like carvings etched into dark crystal. Neural pathways pulsing with malevolent energy.

Thirteen left children. Thirteen stones. Instruments of control. The puppet master’s tools.

Our heroes loot the unconscious urchins—as heroes do—finding paltry amount of coin and trinkets of desperate poverty. Kong creates wooden bowls to contain the cursed stones. Nadja, with her superior occult knowledge, understands their terrible purpose: these artifacts imprint thoughts onto wearers, overriding free will entirely.

The city watch approaches. Whistles echo through streets. And our heroes decided it was time to depart and leave the children to their fate!

They flee to the Golden Stag Inn—a beacon of warmth after cold horror. There, information flows as freely as winter wine and apple brandy. Old Werner, the dockworker, speaks of wrong rivers and impossible mists.

Professor Valdis rambles drunkenly about wounded places where reality thins, about phantom islands that appear and vanish, taking their victims to unknowable realms. And warns that if they find an island has no birds turn away!

Elsa Kramer of the watch—drunk and loose-tongued—reveals that the watch has collected dozens of confiscated objects: rings, pendants, toys, dice, all incorporating the same black substance called by some Starfall dust or Dream grit or Morpheus Tears or simply the black sand. It grants desires at terrible cost, and more appear each week. The watches evidence room now feels unnatural and watched and the watch only goes in there when they must.

Most disturbing? The Night Hexen deals in black market trade of these cursed materials. And it is rumored Dr. Ritalson himself was dabbling in it.

Morning comes. Breakfast is served with inappropriate innuendo courtesy of Kong’s magical produce. The party heads toward the Traume und Feen Library, following Professor Sabine’s instructions.
But Shakoom—whose eyes miss nothing—notices watchers on the rooftops. Fey shapeshifters. Chimneys painted hot pink and leaning at odd angles. Weather vanes pointing wrong directions. Round windows where rectangular ones should be. These creatures track the party’s every move—gossips and spies for greater fey powers but have no clue what is normal in the mortal world.

At the library’s entrance, they witness a tense exchange. A pale woman in black—Jennifer—argues with the librarian about accessing restricted texts. She speaks of compacts, blood prices, names and memories. When she departs, her elegant facade slips for just a moment, revealing something… other.
The librarian turns to greet the newcomers.

But Shining Fist? That manifestation of righteous fury has already brushed past, entering the library uninvited.

How rude.