After the battle of the gremlins. the heroes found their way to a campfire tended by a Xaositect dwarf. He informed them that he was looking for Torgo, but had not been successful, despite an exhaustive search under a multitude of grains of sand. After a friendly chat, the party bid him farewell, and set off towards the Ziggurat.
Once there, they found signs of a recent battle, albeit one fought with ancient weapons. Eventually, they reached the top, where they found the source of the blinking light, carvings protected from the wind, and the sad form of Torgo. The light was from the dying sun reflecting off of a sphere, blackness swirling within like ink. The merest touch of the sphere sapped the vitality of anyone who had the termitity to touch it. The walls were inscribed with horrific images, dominated by a grinning face.
Torgo held a few possessions, and next to the body, Torgo’s Journal. After reading it, the party realized that events were unfolding much as they had for Torgo, and were presented with a vast, growing army of skeleton forces. Knowing that the orb might hold some idea of godhood, even if it was a twisted version, they gathered up the orb, and made their way down. Once on ground level, the sea of skeletons parted, allowing them passage out.
The party cautiously made their way to the bonfire they saw earlier. This fire was accompanied by a squad of dragonborn. Hopeful, the party inquired if they could share information regarding the exit. The Dragonborn did not wish to give up the location without some sort of payment. Unable to reach an accord, they did battle.
The battle went badly. With most of the party down, or in bad shape, Angus tried one last attempt. Casting one final invocation, he threw himself at the orb.