Epilogue – The Price of Salvation

The Soulmonger shatters. A surge of freed souls sweeps out across Chult and beyond. Across Faerûn, the wasting curse halts: those fading on deathbeds stir with sudden breath, color returns to their faces. The Death Curse is broken. Syndra Silvane does not return, but countless others are spared.

In the Tomb of the Nine Gods, Acererak’s laughter fades at last. His form is cast back into the darkness, his plans undone by mortal hands. For now, he is gone.


Ruhlun

Born a man, she now walks as a woman. A hunter, chasing identity as much as quarry. Her path weaved through the jungle, and even onto rivers where she lost herself more than once.

She never uncovered the frost giant purpose that once drove her, but her bow found its mark when the world most needed it. Having endured the Tomb, she steps into the light with her story unfinished.


Donatello

The tortle druid carries wounds that will never fully heal, but his spirit remains unbroken. Hew the one-armed dwarf will one day hear how Donatello not only survived, but helped end the curse itself. The jungle still blooms greener where he treads.


Jacques

Jacques emerges battered but grinning, axe Bob still in hand. Through every trap and chamber he hauled the petrified Kraiklyn, and even now he refuses to set the statue aside. In ports across the Sword Coast, sailors will one day drink to “the big one who carried both his burden and the day.”


Lightning

Scarred, singed, and aged before his time, the tabaxi paladin staggers into the sun. His fur will never grow back, his years are shortened, yet his faith has endured the Tomb. When thunder rolls above Port Nyanzaru, the people say it is Lightning, reminding them that he still walks the earth.


Chult and the Wider World

News spreads swiftly: the Death Curse is broken. The dead remain in their graves, but priests rejoice as their prayers of resurrection are answered once more. Syndra Silvane is gone, but her champions live to see the world they saved.

In Port Nyanzaru, their names are etched into stone, not as martyrs, but as survivors — adventurers who stepped into the Tomb of the Nine Gods and returned.

But in the endless dark between worlds, Acererak stirs. His laughter is quieter now, edged with rage. He was denied this time, but he is patient. If not these heroes, then their kin, or their children’s children — in time, he will have his vengeance.