As the hour was late, the party retreated to their inn to spend the night. The next morning, Oleg and West sold off excess goods while Triben identified their magical bounty. Determining the items not worth keeping, they got sold off also. They then took Gronk's body to the temple of Pelor. After securing a meeting with the high priest, they arranged to get him raised from the dead in return for a generous tithe. There was still a good amount of money left after the tithing, so the group decided to divide it up. Reserving a share of treasure for Gronk, the party then went on a brief shopping spree. When they were done, they rejoined at the inn for a hearty lunch, then headed over to the Adventurer's Guild to report their findings.
As soon as they entered, they noted a small disturbance making its way towards them. It turned out to be the representative who had given them their prior assignment. He grabbed Oleg by the shirt, though Oleg quickly extracted himself, and demanded to know where they had been. He was quite anxious to hear of what had happened. He was very dismayed to learn that Durzh was dead or missing, but relief washed over his face when he heard about the notes the party had recovered. He grabbed them out of Triben's hand, demanded "Wait right here! and disappeared into the crowd.
After a scant few seconds, it occured to all three adventurers that perhaps this was the shapeshifter in disguise. Triben closed and secured the door, while West turned into a small dog and tried to pursue him through the crowd. West spotted the dwarf on his way back, but without the alchemical notes. West elected to stay in dog form as the dwarf returned to the party. After Triben confirmed his identity by asking him how much they'd agreed to be paid, the dwarf paid them and said there might be more, related work. Oleg and Triben agreed they'd return in an hour to get more information. They left, while West surreptitiously followed the dwarf onto the streets.
He led West to a modest home a quarter-mile away from the guildhall. He knocked on the door, and was let in by a hunched-over elderly dwarf. After spending the better part of an hour inside, he emerged with a companion. Both bade farewell to the elderly dwarf by grasping their right hand to just below his elbow, a gesture he returned. West followed them until it was clear they were heading for the guildhall, then hid in an alley and resumed human form.
Once all three party members had arrived, the dwarf introduced his companion as Hofur Blacklock. He offered the party another 500 gold if they would go with Hofur and "take down the tower". After a brief discussion, the party agreed to leave immediately. They were led outside, and mounted on semi-transparent blue horses. The horses ran like the wind, and never slowed. The trio gulped down what food they could while the ghost-horses galloped under them. By midnight, the party sat a quarter-mile from Durzh's tower.
The party imagined the tower to be occupied, and debated taking immediate action. On the one hand, there was obviously a rush for some reason. On the other hand, none of the group had anticipated a siege when they arose that morning. Finally, West assumed the form of an eagle and scouted ahead. When he returned, he reported finding no indication that the tower had been occupied. The group approached warily, but no ambush was forthcoming. West did, however, uncover recent tracks, apparently the remains of the orcish raiders they'd spotted the other night.
Hofur dismounted and walked towards the entrance to the tower. When he was thirty feet from it, he fell to his knees. He raised his arms, spreading them up and slightly out, and looked to the top of the tower. In a great, deep voice, Hofur began to sing. Though the words were in an unknown language, they were beautiful and powerful. His voice echoed majestically through the hills, putting to shame the most reknowned bards with which the group was familiar.
Though greatly impressed, the party had little time to truly appreciate his magnificent voice. They knew that such a display was bound to attract unwanted attention, so they kept alert for the slightest indication of danger. After a half-hour of song, West's owl returned, settling itself on his wrist. They spoke briefly, then West informed Oleg and Triben that the raiders were moving in on their position. They decided to form a picket line one hill over, hoping to keep Hofur safely out of combat.
From their position atop one of the low, rolling hills, they could see the raiders from a good distance in the moonlight. All three employed preparatory magics, with West taking the form of a tiger. As they charged, Triben peppered the raiders with crossbow bolts, taking two down. Oleg continued casting defensive magics on himself, and West assumed a rear position in case of a breakthrough. When the raiders had closed to fifty feet, the grass at their feet grew and grabbed, tripping and entangling over half of them. Oleg charged, blasting flames and magical sprays from his hands. West conjured great apes, which between them were able to distract the one remaining troll long enough for it to be taken down. A tiger, which had been trailing the group, attacked from the rear and distracted their leader while the party finished off the raiders. Once his forces were destroyed, the leader turned and fled. The tiger did not pursue, instead going to eat one of the fallen orcs. West did pursue, however, turning into an eagle and flying down the orc. They peppered each other with violent magics, but eventually West brought him down.
After slaying any surviving orcs, they dragged the leader, a cleric of Wee Jas, back to the tower, where Hofur continued to sing. After an other half-hour's vigilance, the tower shuddered. Ever slowly, it began to sink and melt into the earth itself. The party stood in awe as, over thirty minutes time, the tower disappeared completely, leaving no trace that it was ever there. Having completed his task, Hofur stopped singing. He rose, and his index finger began to glow. He touched the air at a point above his head, and drew a line of yellow light down to the ground. He then inserted his hands into the line, and pulled them sideways, opening the line into a rectangle, which he stepped into.
One at a time, the party braved this unknown magic, only to find themselves in a most regal palace. Tended by ghostly servants, they enjoyed a huge meal, hot baths, and a long uninterrupted night's sleep on feather matresses. They awoke to a stately breakfast, then regretfully followed Hofur back out through the doorway. Four new ghost horses waited for them, though this time they stopped to allow the party time to cook proper meals. Their mounts enabled them to travel swiftly and surely to Irongate, though they did notice several other rampaging bands on their trip. West managed to convince the Tiger to follow them to Irongate and act as a companion, promising to feed him orcs if he agreed.
Upon their safe return, Hofur wordlessly handed them three more bags of coins, then departed. The party decided to take some time to relax before looking for more trouble. West spent the time out of town bonding with the tiger they had encountered, Oleg scribed a few new scrolls, and Triben spent much of his time in the library trying to find a way home. On the third morning, Gronk was finally returned from the dead, much to everyone's relief. That afternoon, though, a curious letter was left for them...