And so it was, high upon the Torres and well above the Vale’s Stairs, where rises the high water a stony isle of dire report. Known as Vordakai’s Island to those that do live thereabout, some legen of its name doth come down through the locals. For they speak of a guardian that doth destroy all who would set foot upon its accursed shores. They did name no fewer than a twelvecount of their hero-knights who had left their bones upon its rocky shores over the years after having tested their mettle against its dread warden, ’til none would any longer go there for fear of its hidden terrors. And the name of this terror was given unto this island.
…It was on one of these jurneys that he discovered the site of Vordakai’s tomb and crossed the waters of the little sellen on a folding boat. On the Island he located wards designed to prevent intrusion and grasped somthing of their dire nature. He was about to turn back when he Glimpsed a cache of treasure just a short way down the corridor leading into the tomb. Greed forced aside common sense, abd he crept inside to investigate- but as he did, he felt the ancient warding go off. Pausing only to snatch a single jade bracelet, he fled the tomb and retreated Back across the river.
…he hurrried back to Varnhold with the bracelet and adjusted his tale to say he had found it on the river bank, hoping to hide his lack of judgement…. but the triggering of the wards had awoken somthing from an ageless slumber, faced with a new world of wonder, the undead cyclope set about tracking the thief back to the settlement of varnhold. Unleasing anchint magic of the Occolus of abbadon, it emptied the settlement of its inhabitants in a single night of horror.