Mycha's Mind Maze

The party received a vision through Poem #6. The vision revealed Omihi Duskwalker after she returned to Phandalin with Odd and Adona. She stayed for a period, mourning the deaths she had witnessed over the preceding five years. Omihi eventually decided to travel and arrived in Tulmon, a city situated on the shores of the Lake of Steam, near the Border Kingdoms. Having been an adventurer, Omihi quickly rose to prominence in Tulmon by helping to defend against pirate attacks from the Lake of Steam. She soon recognized that her days as a hero were over and subsequently retired from adventuring. Her reputation, however, could not be suppressed, and offers to join various guilds in the Border Kingdoms continued to arrive. Omihi accepted a position as an ambassador for the safety of the northern Border Kingdoms, where she advised armies on defense against pirates and monsters from the seas. Her final quest involved confronting Traxigor, an individual poised to become a lich. She commanded an alliance of soldiers from Derlusk, Thur, and Arthyn to confront Traxigor in his tower, located in the Sea of Swords, a part of the Lake of Steam difficult to navigate due to sharp rocks. Omihi managed to infiltrate the fortress before Traxigor could complete his lich transformation ritual. The unfinished ritual polymorphed Traxigor into an otter, which Omihi then sealed within the dungeon of his own tower. Omihi sealed the tower's entrance with a magic ward, shaped like a single leaf, whispering the command word "Lorilon" to activate it. After these events, Omihi returned to Tulmon and served as the city's mayor. Following her death from old age, the city descended into turmoil. Scholars then decided to hide her artifact, the Cape of Leaves, in the nearby village of Kelwentown, to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands.

As Greg chases after Frul, who collapses and dies in front of him only to be revived against his will, the rest of the party finishes laying Mycha to rest. Just as they prepare to leave the chapel, something changes. The doors open— But Revilon is gone. Mist coils around them. The streets are twisted, dreamlike. A baby’s cry echoes. A crib with chicken legs sprints around a stone well, giggling, crying, darting out of reach. A voice speaks. Baba Yaga. “I brought you here. Something was delivered to me—a head. I want to know what’s inside.” The party quickly realizes: They are inside Mycha’s mind. They refuse to help Baba Yaga dig deeper. “Then interpret for me,” she says. “Translate the echoes.”

They eventually catch the crib—it kicks and scratches until subdued. Inside: a mechanical baby, wailing, unblinking. Annoying. Familiar. Baba Yaga leans in. “What is it?” The party studies it. “This is how Mycha saw Kilijan. As something meant to be cared for. Loved. Feared.” The old witch nods. Satisfied. “Onward.” She snaps her fingers, and the world fractures.

Now, they are in a dark, abandoned mine. Water drips in the distance. A puddle reflects their faces. Weneon touches it— It moves. Sorrow, a Water Elemental, forms. It speaks. It weeps. It is made of Mycha’s grief. Baba Yaga demands they destroy it. The party refuses—until Manasa hears Mycha’s voice, faint: “I’d rather it be gone.” And so, they end it. As Sorrow dissolves, Baba Yaga mimics Mycha’s voice, laughing. “Thank you. Shall we go deeper?” They realize, they’ve been tricked.

They arrive in front of a burned Knowledge Tree, branches blackened, bark scorched. At its center pulses a radiant sphere—neither flame nor light, but memory. Kilijan pushes through the ash to reach it, dragging Manasa with him. Manasa recognizes the material: the same as the serpent that once imprisoned him. Voices call from the sphere: “Manasa… please… it’s us. Chronos. Atlas. Let us out.” His hands tremble. Then lower. “No.” He lets them drown in the light. The sphere dims.

With glee, Baba Yaga pulls them down—deeper than ever. They land in a narrow alley, cold and pulsing. This is the Underways. Marla is there. Eyes red. Cloak trailing blood. “You let him die.” “You left him.” She summons minions—undead and half-formed. The party fights them off. They charge. But behind Marla, another figure appears. Myscha. Mycha’s sister. She stabs Marla through the back. “You will not be his final thought.” And then she transforms. Skin peels. Limbs stretch. Voice distorts. Baba Yaga gasps. “Oh… whatever it is… it must die.” From inside Myscha, a shape unfolds: A massive beholder, eyes blinking, mouth dripping thought and memory. The final guardian of Mycha’s mind is awake. Mind