Garviel, Travelling Healer
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_It is odd that I find myself remaining in a single place for such an extended length of time.
Much of what I do is travel, tending to all those who would welcome it along the way, mostly those of less fortunate circumstances. How I eventually found my way to the town of Norwick hardly matters, there is much to do here that keeps me busy, with a never declining number of wounded adventurers returning from a day’s work.
The temperature is cold in this region, I still remain unused to it for the most part., spending my time by the fires, keeping an eye out for those who may require my assistance, and at times, sharing a conversation with those I’m come to know as friends.
My remaining resources are scarce, as gathering of herbs is difficult with the constant fall of rain. It is unfortunate that mold sets in far too quickly for traditional methods of preservation. Though there are always other options at hand.
Of those I’ve come to cross paths with, Attentus was the first. Sharing one of what would have been among his final nights with me, we spoke at length by the southern fires. I shared a little of my past that may have been interesting, of how I was following in my father’s footsteps, tending to the sick and wounded as we travelled. I explained how our charity was ridiculed and taken advantage of by some. And by the end, offered what skills I had to help with his cough.
I knew nothing of him then, but am glad to have known him, if only for the briefest of moments. Rest in peace, friend.
Blessings come in rather interesting ways. If not for the bloodthirst that drives the halfling, Wright, I might have never crossed paths with Soliel. As of now, Wright and I have fought a total of three times, much to do with his insistence of playing his “Game”.
Our first meeting had us on neutral terms, sharing words by the southern gate, though that was enough to reveal what I needed to know of his person. His increasing need that I do battle with him barely curbed by my confessions of being a simple healer and herbalist.
The second time was when we finally came to blows. Stepping in between Soliel and Wright, I knew I had little choice in the matter.
The rest of this tale is history I’d rather not record._
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_Sessa decided to drag me up north, having a place in mind she wanted to show me. Instead of taking a boat ride up, we took the long way up by foot. Talking about nothing in particular. From what I could gather at present, Noah had left the lands, and she had no want to talk of it. A shame, seeing as how close they had once been.
It was a distance north-west of Peltarch, past the tower construction and farming fields. At the cliff's edge were hidden steps leading into the recesses of the rock face, revealing a small hidden cove. I couldn't quite put my finger on it at the time, but a serene like peacefulness seemed to be in the air, putting myself at ease. There was no danger to be found here.
Two large crystals sprouted out of the earth here, with a small shrine placed across an expanse of water. A shrine to Eldath, Goddess of Singing Waters.
I would spend a number of days visiting the shrine, finding solace in a place far away from the worries of the world, if only but for a moment.
Our group had just cleared our way into the deeper levels in the crypts, when Val came running up to join us from whence we had came. She had brought word that the gnome Duthos was in need of adventuring folk to acquire additional materials for his airship. I've heard much of the gnome, though I've never met the fellow, word had it he would often gift folk with all manner of inventions for their contributions towards his cause. Just hope none of them blow up.
On returning to Norwick, we found the gnome atop a tree with a contraption in hand, using said item to locate a source for metals he required. He seemed confident that the metal would be found up north in the direction of the gnoll woods. As folk began to gather around the uppity gnome, it seemed like our forces would instead be split into two. The first group led by Val would mine and retrieve the ore from up north, while a second group led by Stubs would head south in search for Elemental control rods.
Being typical of the duo, Stubs and Gibs marched straight out south with no actual leads as to the location of the rods. Caramella's magicks soon had us on the right track, tracking down two sources of strong magic in the south eastern woods, where the "scar" was. Having to fight through a number of harpies and wyverns who make that region their home, Stubs found the first rod after slaying a particularly large wyvern.
While tracking down the second that was nearby, we came across a corpse of a green dragon, sizable but not a full adult just yet. Something flew overhead at that moment, casting a large shadow upon the land. Most of us ducked into the trees to find cover, while the dwarves stood out in the open which came as no surprise. The two were rather focused on finding the dead dragon's hoard, thinking the second rod would be within its contents.
Apparently the second rod was with the creature who killed the green dragon, that being another of its own kin. It came swooping down from the sky, baring its teeth and claws at the ready. Those who rushed into the melee felt the full brunt of its presence, the famed dragon fear living up to the tales, sending folk scurrying away in utter horror. I stood my ground as I brought the full force of my magicks to the fore. The skies darkened as bolt after lightning bolt crashed down into the creature, still it was only wishful thinking that I could simply slay it with such, as it turned and roared making a bee line towards myself. Undeterred, I stood my ground and continued with the assault of electricity, felling the dragon mere steps away from myself. Suppose that makes all those there full fledged dragon slayers, a humorous thought.
The search for the hoard burned anew within the dwarves, even as the second rod was found on the body of the slain dragon. They rushed off in all directions, until Caramella noted the age of the dragons and that they would be less likely to have developed a worthy hoard, if at all. Convinced that there was nothing left to be found, we made our way back towards Norwick.
Upon our return, Duthos was kind enough to award us with a selection of his own inventions to take as a reward. I had a pick of a bag full of gnomish tools and some manner of goo-launching mechanism. I'd eventually gift them to the halfling Benji during the following Fight Night, thinking that he would put them to good use.
With another attack of shadows at the southern gates, folk decided to leave the gate unguarded and search the southern woods. I was standing up on the hill, keeping an eye out when the bugbears arrived. Speaking in the druid tongue, they asked if they could use the fires to cook their last catch from a hunt. I warned them of the townsfolk and the adventurers who would be returning, but they simply waved it aside, sitting themselves around the fire.
They invited me to join them, as they cooked and spoke amongst themselves, seemingly in good spirits. That was until Rith returned with the others. Without a word, she proceeded to summon an elemental and kill all but one of the bugbears who made his escape during the confusion. But he too was eventually killed by the end of the day.
The thought to stand up against her came to mind, though it was quick to perish. The bugbears had been slain, and I had done nothing. Frustrated more so with myself than Rith, I stormed off north having no want to observe the aftermath of her actions.
Lycka had a group that went off looking for answers at Mintas Rhelgor. There were devils in the ruins of the old city, a great many of them. Black tentacles covered the ground, catching everyone but two in their party. Thankfully, they had persuaded Sir Mariston Thel of the Order of the Divine Shield to come along. He and Rith somehow managed to keep the fiends from slaying them all. With their hearts pounding and shaking, the real story began to unfold.
An image of a man moved towards the old temple in the ruins, a man with white hair much like Lycka's. It was her father, long ago before she was even born. A master swordsman in life, he looked young, yet more stern and hard than Lycka had remembered. He was not alone, Kara, Wren and Mel were there as well. They had found something there, something of great interest to Kara, seemingly belonging to the Old Empire. But back then, duergar ruled Mintas Rhelgor, and they were not far behind the group.The bulk of the party headed upstairs, leaving Kara and Wren behind. Something about the object they'd found seemed of great alarm. They agreed to all warn their respective groups, but that's when Kara took it upon herself to deliver all the warnings, and didn't.
Mariston refused to accept the vision, as it suggested that Kara may have fallen far longer than anyone had imagined. The vision faded, and while exploring the rest of the temple, more devils attacked. As well as a duergar priestess, though she got away. They couldn't quite make the connection, but she vanished under greater sanctuary, and the group continued to the large tower, the only other intact building.
There, they saw Kara once again, but at a different time, when the war had begun in earnest. She stood alone before the throne in the great hall of the tower, speaking in the tongue of the old empire, possibly attempting to awaken the armatures. And she laughed, horrible laughter, looking forward to the destruction they would bring. Lycka had never seen a paladin so close to tears then. It was difficult for Mariston and Eluriel in particular, as they'd gone through Hell together, literally for that matter.
Later on, they saw Kara once again, getting ready to reveal her treachery to the world, leaving her last orders to an unseen aid.
The final vision was the one that tied into my own experiences with the spirits. Just up the stairs Lycka's group finally came across the party of spirits they had thought to trace. Kara, Melanie, Mec and not Jirka, but Wren. Again, years before the war, they stood panting at the top of the stairs, planning how to get through the hordes of duergar below.
"The plan is this", Kara had said, "I engage them and you run, and I mean run!" She stressed the running part hard. Jokingly they commented on how rarely adventurers seem to grasp the actual meaning of the word. After the rest were out safely, Kara would follow, "Banish Misfortune", Melanie added, then they were off. The visions ended there.
This seems to leave more questions than answers, though my earlier suspicions of Mintas Rhelgor seem to have been justified. With only this amount of information at hand, I would guess at a connection between Kara and the duergar. Stressing that her companions should run ahead of her, something may have transpired when she was left alone with the duergar, as well as the appearance of the duergar priestess fending off Lycka's group. But again, this is all conjecture with no other leads at present.
On the topic of Kara, Lycka had met her once, as a diplomat to the fire giants, she had come in the same capacity, but meant to entice them to wage war on Peltarch.
Brave and strong, yet kind. Knowledgable, compassionate, humorous, all these things they thought was Kara.
She stood in the hall of the fire lord's castle, opposite Lycka, perfectly cool and collected. A stranger, yet it was Kara, the same woman she'd fought alongside for so many times, the same woman who told her stories of her father's younger days. She sacrificed much to save others. Somewhere along the way, a devil saw a way to user her, to creep through the cracks, Lycka doesn't know how or when.
That bloody priest decided to lecture me again, downplaying the fact that he had threatened my life before, choosing only to remember what is convenient. I told him straight that he didn't deserve to wield Kandrek's blade, in reply, he stated that it was simply a tool, nothing more. Disrespecting me, is one thing, a warden of the woods is another. He continued with his speech, claiming that I should commune more with Silvanus, and that I was a deviant of his worshipers.
So, I kicked his arse. Summoning an earth elemental who did most of the work, downing the fellow before he could get a blow at me. Sure, in hindsight all I could see was red, and I could have handled it better. But the fellow stood right back up and began enforcing himself with blessings looking to fight another round. I cautioned him otherwise, but he'd have none of it. It's a wonder as to how he keeps that mouth running with constant strikes of lightning coursing through his prone form.
Two bears against the lone fellow was hardly a fair fight.
I left him alive but beaten. As he stumbled off ranting that I was evil and should be cleansed, I couldn't help but think he'd had missed his calling as a paladin instead._
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_The pixie Nia came to those at the Norwick fires once again, worried for her missing companions. They had gone in search of Kadrek Treewhisperer, druid and warden of the rawlins and had not returned. She She wished to gather whichever folk were present to lead a rescue and to tend to the temple that was feeling "ill".
The three pixies had come once before, speaking of a temple within the woods that only appeared once in a blue moon or some such. They promised certain folk that they would take them there, if entertained. Some did it by song and dance, others decided to "play" with their friend Little Boy instead. Unsurprisingly, Littly Boy was an ogre, and his favorite game was smash. Clayton did put up quite the fine fight, even with the pair on the ramparts being less than supportive. The urge to set folk on fire does get worrisome at times.
The trek into the forest was the usual, until we neared the temple itself. Krenshars rushed into our ranks, and while the melee began, some noted that magic didn't seem to work the way it should. Our worries were laid to rest as we entered the temple proper, as the wild magic didn't seem to extend within it's halls. The entire structure was seemingly grown and shaped out of nature, the walls being made of living wood and earth. I could understand why the pixies would say that the temple itself had fallen ill in that respect.
Faced against scores of feral animals, some of which I had never come across in my lifetime till now, the warriors cut into their number without hesitation. Much as I would have liked to be spared the bloodshed, there was little choice in the matter. I refused to use my spells against them, instead calming as many as I could. Attempting to speak to them yielded little, so I led them off to where they wouldn't come to harm.
We came across a Guardian of the temple, again a creature I know nothing of. It spoke in sylvan, telling us of a powerful bear spirit named Kryndel and how he had stolen the soul of Kadrek, usurping his place of leadership. It cared not for what we had to say, for now its duty was to protect the current Warden of the temple. I took cover within the halls as the fighting finally broke out. With it's defeat and the group moving on, I took a moment to speak with Clayton and Alexi as we saw to the remains. Both of them seemed to share my sentiments over the situation, and there was little we could do. I simply resigned myself to picking up the pieces after all the wanton destruction.
Vash thought otherwise, rushing to the forefront of the group to stop the slaughter as best he could. He managed to draw some information from a boar, in that Kryndel was planning to overthrow the gods of nature and completely destroy all, in order to fully restore balance. We simply nodded at each other, knowing that we'd be rid of the bear spirit one way or another.
We did eventually find Kyrndrel, standing by an altar long since defiled. To the side, we could make out the form of an elderly druid trapped within a large crystal, more than likely that of Kandrek Treewhisperer. Vash confronted Kryndel, though the bear remained seemingly confident in his plans, in turn belittling Vash's faith in Silvanus. It didn't come in too much of a surprise that Vash would rush forward roaring, leading the group into the melee. Having not used any of my offensive spells since entering the temple, it was a simple matter of burning Kryndel till naught was left.
Attempting to free Kandrek from the crystal was a different matter. I was not privy to the conversation between him and Vash, but by the end of it, the crystal shattered, taking the warden with it. Among the shattered pieces were shards containing Nia's companions. Though whatever plans we had were cut short as the temple began to shake, once again phasing out of existence. The party made a mad dash for the exit, while I stayed behind alongside Vash and Clay to purify the altar. Clayton's keen eye found a blocked passage leading to the exit, I blew apart what rocks were in the way, clearing the way out.
Kandrek's old equipment were divided amongst those gathered, even with wishes that they divided only amongst those like minded. I now am in possession of his boots, and thanks to Val, his old suit of armor as well. A magical suit of plate armor masterly crafted out of ironwood.
I have a suspicion that the temple will make a return once again, and without a current Warden to oversee it, there may be more trouble in the future. Troubling was the mention of the druidic old ways, that came before the Circle. But more importantly, we now seek a hundred magical nuts in order to free Nia's companions of their crystal prisons.
The Defiler's tale as told by Fadia.
Several Circles of Quercatha terr rose up over time, all of them formed from the ashes left behind, after the previous had been torn asunder by the Defiler.
But before his power to challenge the gods, he was but a man, no more special than any other druid. His hear was dark and twisted, evil incarnate. Many today forget this, and say that evil is part of the "balance" that the circle mus strive to protect. Evil is what led to the Defiler, and what nearly destroyed Narfell.
He had been an elder of the Circle, known as "The Gentle" for his caring touch towards animals. He discovered ancient and dark rituals that could grant him power beyond reckoning. His desire was simply that of power. To complete the ritual, he required a full Circle, twelve druids. He put out a call to his fellow companions to come to the temple near the old Circle in the rawlinswoods.
As he was highly regarded, there was no reason for suspicion as one by one the druids joined him at the temple, until eleven gad gathered. But the twelfth and youngest member was nowhere to be found. For she alone had suspected the Defiler's corruption. Though in her youth and inexperience, her claims to that effect were ignored. The Defiler had no need to sacrifice the druids all at once, so he killed the eleven that had gathered and set off after the final number.
He chased her through the woods, day and night. Relentlessly pursuing her as if an avatar of Malar himself. They ran through the old Circle, where he claimed and corrupted it, while the young druid continued her flight through the woods. She eventually found herself in the eastern woods, where the glen originally was. There, she reached a pool and collapsed as she pleaded for Mielikki's aid. She answered then, a large rock rose and cracked within the center of the pull, revealing pure and glittering crystal within. Perhaps the druid had spoken with the Goddess at that moment. What is known, is that the druid knew what had to be done.
Taking the crystal in hand, she no longer sought to run, instead she went searching for the Defiler. When at last they had found one another, the Defiler believed he had the upper hand. The druid held the crystal forwards, giving praises to Mielikki as she faced him. In his arrogance, he wished to use the crystal as his own focus, to corrupt it and kill her. And thus, he fell into her trap. As he found himself unable to stop pouring his power, his life essence into the crystal. Until he was imprisoned within, unable to affect the world outside. For a time, there was peace in the rawlinswoods.
The crystal was left in the care of Lifeshaper Jadys'variana of the old elven outpost, where Fadia had once lived a time ago. The Defiler had never stopped trying to escape from his prison, always attempting to force his way out. It was inevitable in the end, as he was immortal, and had been at it for years innumerable even to elves. Given enough time and perseverance anything is possible. His essence began to slowly free itself and corrupt the Lifeshaper. And with her, the rawlinswoods once again.
Time and time again, he would destroy the Circle, and time and time again, the circle would be reborn. Always her would try to restart the ritual and complete what he started, and always he would fail. Then those of the realm began to fight back against his evil. When they started making ground against the Defiler, he reacted in the only way he knew how. He began to turn the woods against the people.
The waters became their enemy, as if one would enter it without elemental protection, he would suddenly begin to feel warm, then hot, eventually his chest would burst open as his body smoldered till nothing was left. Packs of dire animals assaulted Norwick nightly, bugbears laid siege on Norwick and the glen, a cult of Malarites came to support him and begun hunting Circle apprentices. However, the Defiler's reliance on the Malarites would prove to be his undoing.
A priest named Mecc had grown to be one of the Defiler's most favored servants, and had learnt of his weakness. If one was in possession of a small vial of the Defiler's blood, they could engage him on equal terms. Fadia knows not how, but Mecc acquired the blood, and thus defected. He offered his knowledge and the blood to those fighting against the Defiler, in exchange for being allowed to do his rituals in peace, in a secluded part of the rawlinswoods. They agreed.
The Defiler's essence was bound to two place. If they managed to purify and destroy these two locations, then his mortal form could be killed permanently. Meanwhile, there were portals that he used to keep his body constantly on the move. Their job was simple, to eliminate the portals to keep him contained, and cleanse his taint from the rawlins so that he could finally be killed.
They gathered at the old Circle, the Druids and Wolves preforming a ritual of purification. They could not be interrupted while doing so, and thus had a large group of adventurers guarding them. The Order of the Shininy Phoenix assaulted the old temple, the other location where his essence was contained. Both locations were cleansed and destroyed respectively, and with the portals closed, the Defiler was trapped within the bugbear warrens.
Dozens died as they pushed father into the tunnels where they eventually found him. The fighting was long and terrible, as more fell to the Defiler's powers. But they cut him down, and that was it. The Defiler was destroyed.
According to Lycka, there was a N'Jasti encampment located in Mintas Rhelgor during the war, their side had worked to bring back the old empire.
Most fearsome of the foes in the war were the armatures. While resembling warmachines, were something older and far worse. They were from the old, demon summoning days of the old empire, put in stasis and then reawakened during the war by Kara and her allies. The Queen of N'jast was believed to play a big role in this as well, but Kara was the one who knew much of the old lore. One of the many things that Lycka admired her for.
Mintas Rhelgor is an important location, there is a strong likelihood that the ancient device that laid waste to Jiyyd by opening the portals to release all the fiends, was recovered from there. Some believe it to be the capital of the old empire, but Lycka doesn't believe that to be true, but something was done there. For when Narfell "cracked" a great beam of light arched across the sky, from our location in the Icelace towards Mintas Rhelgor.
Lycka's been trying to gather all the reports from travelers there, but they are few and far between. Aside from the lethal animals barring the way, there are fiends all over the place.
The timing of the recent rise in spirit activity coincides with Rith and Fadia's efforts on the hill outside Jiyyd. Frequent trips to push out the demons may be stirring up old ghosts, perhaps the spirits wishing to show them something to help their work there, or so they wish to believe.
If so, all clues thus far seem to be pointing towards Mintas Rhelgor. Word has it that Sy'wyn has had visions of that forsaken place as well, visions of armatures._
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_It always begins harmless enough, a simple quest to retrieve an item. But when Derek Underhill is involved, things are never that simple, nor harmless. I've been on one of his ventures once before and even knowing the risks, found myself agreeing to his most recent proposal. Taniko immediately gave his word to the cause, the twins Louhetar and Maj following suit alongside the priest of Chauntea, Autumn. We gathered by the Norwick fires as the details were given to us, to retrieve a crystal ball from a band of ogres in a desert somewhere. The usual deal, being that we could keep whatever else we found on the way.
We made our way south, past the ruins of old Norwick, to the menhirs by the misty pond where Derek opened the portal that would see us on our way. He off-handishly mentioned something about there being five trials, where we would need to meet the terms of five djinns to cross their respective bridges, before we'd arrive at the ogre's location. Of course, the alternative would simply to fight them all to the death, though I imagine that being the worst idea of the lot.
Through the portal, we found ourselves in the desert, on a beaten path. Having no other ideas, we simply followed it which led us to the first of the djinns we would meet. The first djinn's terms was that all within our group would be required to roll dice, and whoever was lowest would have an item taken from his person. At the beginning, there was much bickering and attempts to find a loophole within the given rules, on the account that none of us wanted to be the loser. Looking to Taniko, I could understand his hesitaton, the thought of losing his family's armor or blade being forefront on his mind. But in the end, the die was rolled, and I was the lowest among us. The djinn took my ever-burning torch, and thus we were granted safe passage across.
Before coming across the second bridge, we would have to face more of the burning skeletons, bursting forth from under the sands in an attempt to ambush us. The second djinn was the quickest of all five, having to simply answer a riddle and we did, getting past the trial within moments. The third trial was by far the trickiest of the lot, a play of words in which all of us asides Autumn fell for. A smart one, that lass.
The fourth began much the same, having to answer a riddle, though by the time I had figured out and gave my answer, the given time was up. The price to pay for failing was to let the Djinn eat the eldest of us, Taniko. Having none of that, I immediately stepped in to support the eastern warrior as did the others among us, which turned out to be our undoing. For each time a person crossed the dry river bed without the use of the bridge, a fire elemental was summoned. I watched in horror as Autumn ran across it several times, towards the djinn, then away from the fire elementals, it was chaos by the end of it. Taniko was surrounded by the elementals, and even as I used the greatest of my healing, Taniko would fall to their constant battering. As did the rest of us, as the djinn came barreling after us each.
From those gathered in the fugue plane, Louhetar had managed to somehow escape death. With little else to do but wait, we all went about our own doings and thoughts. Maj walked off somewhere on her own, Taniko began to meditate to keep his anger in check, Autumn blamed herself for the deaths and I began to worry if I would end up in the wall of the faithless. Another soon joined our company, a winged lady, an astral deva from what I gathered at a later point. From what was said, she had come at Autumn's beckoning, for she had wanted to give up her mortal existence to her deity in exchange for our safe return. Nothing we said seemed to sway her decision, instead, we simply promised we'd see that her sacrifice would not be in vain, that we would finish what we started. Maj on the other hand refused to be part of it, saying that Autumn was escaping from her rightful judgement of her wrong doings.
Next thing I recall, we were back amongst the living, Louhetar joining back with us having brought help, Thorn and Storn. Carrying the body of the still-dead Maj, we pressed onwards towards the final trial. We were to poss a riddle for the djinn to answer, we would consider the trail won if he could not answer within half a minute. Using a riddle Thorn had experienced trouble answering once before, and having Taniko say it in his eastern tongue, we crossed the bridge without incident.
Compared to the djinns, the ogres were of little danger, the group of us cutting into their ranks quick and efficiently, retrieving the crystal ball amongst a cache of other odds and ends, though nothing worth of actual note. Thinking our little venture was over, we were surprised that the collected number of djinns would block our return to the portal. They demanded the crystal ball, and would be willing to trade it for an incredible treasure and from what they were offering, it was rather tempting. Even causing a pause in the usual stoic Taniko when confronted with a katana of artifact quality.
Recalling the agreement prior to each trial, the djinns were not to hinder our progress for a week. Telling them as such, I walked across the bridge as they voiced their confusion as to why we would refuse the exchange. Even Louhetar thought we were mad, screaming and shouting that we should have taken the deal. All I knew was that I would not put Autumn's sacrifice and memory to shame, we would see that the crystal ball back to Derek's hands.
And we did so, as he took it and ran off without so much as a thank you. The entire ordeal left a bad taste in my mouth. What we had to give up to complete this little venture was hardly worth it.
A group of us were headed up north through the pass when it happened, a whole retinue of spirits were fighting amongst themselves at the crossroads. I recognized those of the Troff legion though the other faction were not familiar to me. Others of the group seem to recall the scene, being that of a skirmish during the N'jast War. The Troff forces were cut down to the lone man who fought valiantly till his death against overwhelming numbers. A hero long since forgotten, perhaps.
A lone armored woman spirit appeared then, attempting to speak with us, though no words seem to come from her lips. She was able to hear our words and respond with nods, though it was as if she had something important to tell us. Through much effort, she was finally able to sound off two words before promptly vanishing whence she came.
"Banish Misfortune"
Having no better ideas, we made for the ruins of Jiyyd, thinking there would be answers to all our questions there. I had heard of what dwelt in the wreckage of the town, and was reluctant in going, voicing out my concerns every step of the way. We fought back the number of undead until we entered the town proper. Inside, we came across several more spirits, an armature moving towards the menhirs, and a scout which spoke of a battle out in the opposite direction and how folk were to evacuate before everything would be engulfed in fire.
We investigated the menhirs first, and had to battle with a vrock that suddenly appeared from it's center. Thinking it best to leave it alone, we made for the battle that was supposedly taking place at the other end of town. There we found the spirits of orcs fighting off N'jast forces. They had allied with the townsfolk as the N'Jast were encroaching onto their lands as well. Still, with no answers, we turned to leave the town.
That was when the sky turned orange, and the fire began to fall. Everything was burning. This was what had caused the town to become what it is now, and we were watching it as if it was happening right then and there. We were caught by surprise by another vrock as we were marveling in horror at the sight, nearly being killed by its succubi's spells. We took the ferry back across towards safety soon after.
Old Lem spoke up as we passed, the one named Ael from our group greeted him as Jiyyd's former mayor, I was surprised at that. He told us that the spirits had begun appearing frequently as of late, and that something was amiss, as it had only started a time ago. When questioned about the words of the spirit, he seemed to know of it, but couldn't quite remember from there. Rhiain with her quick wit, handed the mayor a potion of cunning helping him recall the memory.
This took place years before the war itself. There were five of them gathered at the time, DuMonte who had betrayed them, Melanie, a moody woman wielding a greatsword and outlaw in Norwick, Jirka, a dwarven women, Mec who was a priest of Mystra and the Watch Captain of the time. The first four were plotting something to do with a location called Mintas Rhelgor, as the Watch Captain walked by. The captain advised them not to bring the town any trouble as the rest assured him that they wouldn't.
The dwarf had said, "Assuming it all doesn't go wrong, like it always does."
To which Melanie had replied "Banish misfortune", sketching a little symbol in the air.
With the ending of that tale, and still no answers, our group parted ways then. Having witnessed the destruction of Jiyyd first hand, as well as knowing a little more about the history of the war that had taken place. What all this may mean or forebode is far beyond my understanding and means, I'd best leave it to those of a higher calling to deal with._
-
_Horlamin has left these lands, and I've confirmed as such with the Circle elder Fadia. Much as we had our differences, frost and flame, physical and magical, we respected one another, never hesitating to fight by the other's side. From what little I could gather, there was a clash between him and the others of the Circle in regards to Diadne. More likely having to do with differing deities and agendas of Auril and Kossuth. Again, I am glad not to be involved with the Circle or its politics for just the same.
I've spoken with Diadne on occasion, even going so far as to pass her the cloak of the kossuthan high priest that belonged to my father's killer. Einrihch thought I was out of my mind in keeping it in the first place. Only felt right to hand her something of her own faith, to find comfort in within these foreign lands. But it matters little to me at this point, least it's being put to good use. I dare hope.
Perhaps I'll travel north and visit the barbarian before I too follow in his wake and take my leave. There is little holding me down in these lands, the yearning to travel and explore once again burning within my veins.
I pass the days, accompanying Taniko on his training endeavors, sometimes towards the gnolls, but mostly the undead down in the crypts. Twice now, we've been swarmed by undead in the graveyard, the first included the gigantic monstrosity I hadn't seen since the events of the dracolich, though this time rather than playing the support to the front line, I brought it down with a constant barrage of flame spells. I've come a long way since arriving as a "travelling healer", though I'm unsure whether it's for the better or worst.
The second time however, things would turn out differently. Skeletons began rising towards the surface, themselves already alight with supernatural flames. The flames were quick to spread, setting the surrounding woods on fire, as well as any warriors they came in contact with. Our group made a stand in the shallow brook, using the water as best we could. The senator Marty made the most of her wand of frost, putting out fires wherever they might be.
I recalled Horlamin speaking of a foe, named the Burning Man or some sort. Perhaps this could be his handiwork? But from what little I know, he's supposedly a druid, not a necromancer. Having not prepared anything else, I brought my own flames to bear, striking out at the burning skeletons. I knew well enough that they would be resistant towards their own element, but the flames I called upon were of divine nature as well.
We made it back to the gates without any losses, though apparently my use of flames have garnered the attention of one priest of Silvanus. Apparently he has labelled myself as being an arsonist and has threatened to kill me. Never have I felt the need to put someone back in their place till this moment, not even Bran could entice me into such. But when I called him out to settle things beyond the gates, he wised up, claiming that Silvanus himself would strike me down in his stead.
Idiot.
Louhetar came up with an idea that I should awaken the animals out south, in so doing, giving them a leader among their own kind. An interesting notion, considering the disregard some folk have with their slaughter at times. Then again, I have no inclination of drawing unwanted attention towards myself from the locals or the Circle for that matter.
Though the thought of an organised herd of deer running Rhiain out of their territory is somewhat amusing._
-
_Trips to the gnoll woods in the north have become much more frequent as of late. The first of them lead by Cyrian had us traversing through the Cold Caves, aptly named for the constant drop in temperature as we delved deeper into the tunnels. This would be my first experience in facing ogres, their spellcasters able to cast through their own barricades, catching me off guard. We didn't make it to the bottom, instead turning back after observing the natural stone formations below. Apparently there wasn't any ore that had caught our companions eyes.
One of the following trips into their woods would have only three of us, Einrihch, Clayton and myself. Clayton's become quite the tracker and bowsman since I've last travelled alongside him, bringing down the younglings before they could meet Ein's blade. Einrihch himself is quite the swordsman, wielding the aptly named Warbringer, as well as the armor gifted to him by the Red Knight herself. We came across another group leaving from the deeper woods, among them was Rasuil who decided to join our merry band. We came across one of their scythers further along, which Clayton attempted to use contents of his utility belt to stun, but caught Ein within its effects instead. Thinking to rescue him from the scyther, I took the form of a bear and rushed forward, only to be nearly cut in half. A lesson to best leave the melee to frontliners.
Vlad would lead another trip into the Underdark, alongside his companion Quelcoth. Gina and Rain would come along as well, though Danika refused to come along, reason being that of the questionable company I was planning to accompany. My heart dropped at that, thinking that our future appointment would more or less be expunged with such. Taking in a deep breath, I caught up with the group who had already made a move for the graveyard.
I have to say, with the four of them up in the front, I've never seen such a force quite like that. The group cut through the crypts in a timely manner, quickly finding ourselves within the Underdark. Apparently we were making course for a location known as Arnath, there was little detail spoken of the place, merely that it was now home to creatures known as Quaggoths. Among the toughest creatures I've faced thus far, able to dispel many of our enchantments before the fight had even begun.
Upon our return, I managed to track down Danika and we had our meal on the hilltop in Silver Valley. We spoke very little, instead merely enjoying the company, drink and food. I'm unsure as to how she thought of the entire affair, or the flowers I had presented her at the end of it all. Perhaps it was as Rhiain had said later, Danika and I were both simply the quiet sort.
Met an adventurer by the name of Barek in the Mermaid at Peltarch, the poor fellow stumbling into the establishment close to death. As those gathered tended to his wounds, he spoke of his plight, of how his adventuring group Barek's Best had been overwhelming by the gnolls. They had stumbled upon them in the midst of a dark ritual, his companions Shamus, Eldrith, Mino and Korvicust were captured when they attempted to flee. Some amongst us would quickly pledge their blades to the cause, while others did so in promise of payment.
Surprisingly, Alexi stepped up to organize our gathered group, making sure folk knew their roles in the events to come. Still, there was resistance, folk wishing to do their own thing instead, even deciding who would lead us turned into a long drawn out affair. Instead, Stubs spoke up declaring himself the leader and marched right out the door. Even knowing how Stubs usually is, I couldn't help but feel relieved that we were finally on the move.
We were to search the woods for old ruins where the ritual had taken place, Clayton being the sole tracker of the group lead the way further into the woods, having found signs of increased activity in those parts. Fighting past the gnolls standing guard, we found the location of the ritual though it had long since been completed. Within the center of several mutilated and burning bodies was a portal, and from what we could tell, the bodies didn't belong to the four we were looking for. Dredi found a book nearby, detailing of the Demon Prince of Gnolls, Yeenoghu. I asked Dredi for the book, taking the time to read through it in detail, while the rest decided our next course of action.
A dark foreboding grew at the back of my mind, as to where the portal might lead. These fears would be realized as we all stepped through into the Abyss itself, a volcanic like plateau with constant venting of steam from it's cracked earth, and worse, screams filled the air, telling of unfortunate souls who still remained in the accursed realm. I was accustomed to heat, but not so much as this, folk could die enduring such temperatures, as we'd experience for ourselves as we lingered for far too long. Blood flowed freely like rivers on this plane, and a manner of fungus grew from it. Why folk would choose to rub such things all over themselves to stave off the heat is beyond me.
We faced a number of demonic gnolls as we crossed a chasm leading to a mighty gate, on one side lay a gong, tempting those near to ring it, and on the other, an impaled figure still burning away in a fire. As we neared closer, the figure's head jerked towards us, and an unearthly voice sounded from it's throat, "Help me." it cried. Stubs decapitated it.
The gates were locked, and with further inspection, would not be opened by a pick nor magic. Thinking it a simple matter to resolve, Rico rung the gong, much to the shock and facepalming of some. Almost naturally, the gate swung open, and we were greeted with a fair number of demonic gnolls once more. I stuck by Alexi's side at the rear, the both of us playing the roles we did back when we were off vanquishing the dracolich. Rain was kind enough to stick close and guard us two.
The first adventurer we found was a dwarf, long since dead with his innards laying bare for all to see. Stubs had at some point during the trip obtained a still-beating heart, and decided to shove it into the poor fellow's chest cavity. Thankfully, I wasn't close enough to observe what happened next, merely shouts of alarm and bearing of blades as his organs had apparently come alive to attack those closest. We couldn't take the body with us, instead we built a grave with rocks we could find nearby.
Next to the constant heat, I imagine most of us were at wits end, our psyche paying a price for the prolonged stay in the abyss. There was arguments as to how we were being led, who was in charge, most vocal of those being Rico and Hammer. I kept my mouth shut, backing up Stubs as he rushed from one battle to the next as foolish as it might be, but long as I kept him alive, we'd keep moving forward. To the point where we found ourselves alone with an altar piled with mutilated bodies. He set the corpses asides while I brought my flames to bear, destroying the altar with a flame strike. The plane shook then, something was clearly displeased.
Dash was the first among us to finally succumb to the plane's elements, falling to the ground as shouts of alarm rang. I rushed to her side, barely able to keep her alive, even with the assistance of Alexi's healings. That was when the elf came over forcing the pieces of a still-beating heart down her throat, while I knelt by her side staring at him in disbelief. Aye, she got up looking just fine, until blood began to seep from every pore of her body, she was sweating blood. And dear gods, was she angry.
As we continued along, we came across a number of sights that were never meant to be seen. Gnolls in the throes of passion among others.
We kept on the move, recovering the possessions of each adventurer we found, all of them having been slain in horrific ways, Dredi reciting a prayer over each in turn. The group made for a tall, spiring tower in the distance for one reason or another, having no other landmark to direct ourselves, I would suppose. We rounded the cliffs it stood upon, finding no proper incline in which we could traverse up. Having come prepared, I tossed Stubs the length of rope I had, setting up a climbing point for the rest to use.
Pass several score more of demonic gnolls and standing before the entrance of the tall spire was a fairly large urn, the contents of which were more still-beating hearts. I couldn't fathom any reason why Soliel would begin retrieving them and stuffing them into her pack, or why Stubs would smash down the gates of the spire. The plane shook once more, this time in beat to footsteps as two large eyes glowing red appeared from within the darkness of the spire's recesses. A gnoll scyther, of gigantic proportions came barreling out, roaring its challenge. If I hadn't known any better, I would have said it was an aspect of Yeenoghu himself.
With our numbers swarming around him like the eager lot they were, I couldn't bring to bear the flames nor frost that I had prepared. I simply played the role of healer once more, patching up those who were direly wounded during the battle. The giant gnoll nearly killed Hammer from the get go, the scythe cutting through him in a wicked arc. As deadly as it was with its scythe, its defenses were not a match, the constant hails of arrows, blades and magic cutting it down quickly. Though with it's defeat, the spire began to break apart, crumbling towards the ground.
And the next moment, we were back in the gnoll woods, having been somehow ejected through the portal we had come. I motioned that folk should stand away from the portal so that I could destroy it, but Dredi and Hammer both began their prayers to their respective gods to achieve the same ends. At the edge of my patience, I called upon Auril's fury, missing the mark by far as I was trying to avoid injuring the two. Instead I fell back upon something far more familiar, burning up whatever was left with Kossuth's divine flame.
Barek took the news well, if heavy heartedly. He thought it best to split the possessions of his former companions among us, so that they would at least see use in the days to come. A pendant was handed to me, a cloudy colored gem fixed upon a platinum chain, which colors shifted randomly over time between red, black and green. From what I've been told, it would offer some protection from the elements commonly found in the Abyss, if I ever do find myself traversing those realms once again. Among the other things we recovered, I took a rather crude looking idol carved out of deadwood depicting Yeenoghu, more likely as a reminder of the trip than anything else._
-
_A fellow in Peltarch named Franklin had his wife kidnapped by kobolds, and from what we were led to believe, they were under the employ of a blue dragon. It was made clear that we would have to rescue Marita in due haste, otherwise Franklin's dinner would be burnt. Taniko, most naturally pledged his blade to the cause, though I was somewhat wary with our recent experiences with a goblin who had wanted to be boss. Taniko had chased the little bugger with complete disregard to his surroundings and those that were with him at the time, much to my chagrin.
With that in mind, we gathered the adventurers we had then, mostly folk I knew asides the pale haired lady Einrihch would call Lou, and made for the kobold caves in the eastern swamps. As we left the cover of the trees, thinking it would be the usual collection of kobolds, Einrihch was suddenly hit with a myriad of magic missiles, causing us to scramble back into cover. Rhiain snuck up to have a look, noting that there was a kobold with wings, more than likely a so called "dragon disciple". As we attempted to formulate some manner of plan, Taniko did what was most natural to him, raising his blade with a loud and mighty warcry and ran straight at it. Though he did not manage to kill it, he had it on the run as it fled deeper into the caves.
We cleared the caves best we could, under the constant harassment of the disciple as it hid behind their own lines while tossing spells at us. Though during one of such encounters, Taniko managed to trip it and the rest of our party surrounded it, ending it's life. Curiously enough, on closer inspection, the disciple would be nothing more than a powerful spellcasting kobold with wooden wings strapped to his back. Though there was still no sign of Marita as we searched their huts and living quarters where they housed their eggs.
Nearing the end of the caves, we would come across the self-proclaimed herald of the blue dragon, a sizable kobold with a makeshift flag. It was a competent fighter, enough to fell Lou, and stand long enough against the onslaught of Taniko and Einrihch's blades. There was mention that the blue dragon would one day come and teach us a lesson, but in that I honestly doubt. While I tended to Lou, Rhiain freed Marita from behind a locked gate.
She was returned to her husband, who was most glad to see her, some of us made sure of that. Most of what we found was left to Rhiain, as we thought it would suit her best, a collection of items that produced magical effects on use.
I sat by the cliff side with my torch in hand that night, along with my thoughts as always. Thinking over my souring relations with Daveth and Rhiain, of how I'd become completely obsessed with proper tactics during our ventures, she was correct in saying I was no longer "fun". I've even felt the compulsion to let others die from their foolishness, though I doubt that was the lesson my father had thought to pass on to me. As Einrihch had sad, we can only help those who wish to be, nothing more.
As I sat there brooding, a figure stood out in the darkness, regarding me with the usual manner of greeting. I have seen the woman several times before, usually among the other trackers and woodsmen of the realm. Perhaps it was the expression I had on at the time, or keen observation of the way I held myself, but she seemed able to tell the dark mood I was in. She merely pointed out over the eastern foliage, saying that was what helped clear her mind and thoughts. I had simply thought she referred to the usual hunting of greenskins or local game, before she pointed again towards the first glints of sunlight over the horizon.
Perhaps it was a simple gesture as that, which allowed me to let everything of the past go. I made up with Daveth and Rhiain, and much to Squeak's insistence, would find myself planning a dinner with Danika sometime in the future. Spent the rest of the day travelling alongside Daveth, as he thought it best if I prepare right then and there, everything I'd need for the night. As the two were so kind to point out, the worst that could happen would be that she was a lich and would eat my eyes. Much as I'd hate to admit it, life here would be most boring without the pair.
I took the time to speak with Clayton for a fair bit, as those gathered by the fire planned a trip into the Underdark. Mostly we conversed of his relationship with Dondiah, and whether or not he'd be asking the big question. Well to be fair, it wasn't an if, more so a when, as he would mention saving up for a ring, or something that begins with a "r" before he caught himself saying it. I haven't known Clayton for all that long, though I was here when he had first arrived in these parts. Wasn't all that long ago when a group of us were up on the ridge talking about our supposed futures. I'm happy for the two of them, genuinely so.
I made mention that my natural talents weren't actually in healing, which seemed to surprise Clayton. It's a little known fact that I find it far easier to summon the elements to my needs than the binding of wounds and positive energy. Ironically, the fires of Kossuth come the easiest, flames that was the cause of my father's passing. Much as I bear the title of Druid of Silvanus in my father's memory, I can't help but doubt the validity of it.
I bid farewell to Clayton as I joined the group headed for the Underdark. Vladimir and Eluriel lead the frontline, while I joined a dwarven cleric, Belmar and Rasuil in the backline. Our plans of heading any deeper were disrupted with the falling darkness and shades. Vladimir spoke of a presence in the crypts causing the creeping darkness, though survival was the only thing on my mind as I backed up into a corner and raised a wall of fire, burning away several shades.
We attempted to retreat back the way we had came, but we faced a new opposition of undead casters, some manner of wraith I had never come across before. Belmar went down under a hail of magic from one of their number, though I managed to get him up before death could take him. We clambered out of the crypts, all looking to be a little worse for wear. It was by no means an easy feat that we all got out alive, under constant assault and with limited spellcasting ability._
-
_I am seemingly distracted these days, and people have begun to notice. Rhiain of note, has begun calling me "Mean Garviel" instead of the usual "Lazy". I've come down hard on Squeek, especially during our last couple of outings into the southern woods and crypts, constantly calling out on her reckless behavior. Am I wrong to do such, I wonder. Perhaps I am still in mourning, or perhaps the constant fear of losing another that I care about is driving me to such ends. Either way, I seem to be unconsciously driving a wedge between myself and those around me.
I joined another band of adventurers on an endeavor to recover a lost caravan and its merchants. They were lost to an ambush, the lone survivor having recruited the folk up in Peltarch. Thinking it a sound plan in which to forget about my own woes, I would promptly pledge my skills to their cause, finding myself by the side of Korlis yet again. A number of other folk I had travelled with prior, Brendel, Vash, Raldi and Lea. And new faces among them as well, being that of Thomas and Dondiah. They seemed a decent sort at first glance.
I came across the party a little ways south of the great city, nearing the gnoll woods. Several halfling bodies laid naked along the road side, the only clue of the bandits whereabouts would be the obvious signs of the cart moving up towards the north-west. The trackers among us did their best to keep us on the right track, Vash taking the form of a wolf in an attempt to catch any scents lingering in the air. It could either have been that we were on the right track, or we had fallen for an obvious ruse , when our group fell into an ambush by the bandits.
There wasn't many of them taking part in the initial ambush, in fact you could probably count them all in a single hand. But by the gods, did they give us a run for our money. Hidden away within the trees, they fired off several volleys of acidic arrows, nearly downing Thomas with the first barrage. Even when caught in melee, they would work in unison, firing away at unsuspecting folk, nailing them hard while there attention was on the other. I kept out of harm's way by instinct, having grown too used to the role of supporter over the passing year. Upon their defeat, our own archers would make use of the acidic arrows, for deadly purpose on their original owners.
Under constant fire, our group would find it's way into the hills of Peltarch. Further west, we would find the remains of the caravan and its merchants, minus the goods they were transporting. Packs of worgs roamed the sparse woods within the pass, the brigands making use of the distraction to fire off their arrows once again. Our group was disorganized, folk would run wildly about straight into another barrage of arrows. I caught myself doing the same as I had thought to rush to aid those that had fallen, instead I would find myself on the ground gasping for air. I had Father Raldi to thank for my life, the elderly fellow turning around to tend to me, even as those remaining beat a hasty retreat back. We had lost two of our own during that skirmish, and by the looks of it, the bandits had hauled them elsewhere.
Having regrouped, Thomas took the lead, striding off at the direction in which the bandits had fled. As I moved to join Thomas at his side, I could make out the prone forms of Dondiah and Vash held at arrow point by the remaining brigands. Thomas didn't seem to pay them any mind, charging straight into their midst. It was plainly obvious what would happen next, the two hostages killed before the rest of us could get anywhere close enough to help. Having earlier expended what spells I had, I waded into battle as a bear, alongside my companion Koda. Some would be surprised at that, but not enough to question me of it later.
With the remnants of the bandits dealt with, I hauled Vash's body the entire way back towards Peltarch, while the rest dealt with Dondiah's and the recovered goods. The remaining survivor of the caravan helped with the costs of bringing the two back from the fugue, though the death of all his companions continued to weigh heavily on his heart.
Another run in with a vampire would leave me more shaken than the first, more likely because it had seen the need to talk through the entire encounter. Araendel and I came across the bloodsucker on our way out from clearing the upper halls of the Norwick crypts. He stood between us and the exit, and from his nonchalant mannerisms, we were deemed nothing more than a nuisance in his eyes.
Araendel would selflessly offer himself if it would mean the safe passage of myself, though the vampire would have none of it. Instead, he dominated Araendel's mind and drank his blood right then and there. Afterwards, the vampire would comment that we should invite other adventurer friends of ours to come to the crypts, which Araendel took quite literally under the spell's effect.
I managed to catch up with the poor fellow back at the southern gates, knocking him out cold with my staff, much to the horror of those witnessing._
-
_I believe this would be my first encounter with the much talked about vampires, with the undead in question firing three acidic arrows straight into my chest before I could react. I was sent reeling past the next corridor, staring at the three protruding arrow shafts. My vision was swimming, barely being able to choke in my next bloodied breath, it was obvious a fourth arrow would have been the end of me. Before I could concentrate on dealing with my own wounds, Caelisar was at my side tending to me. Much as I'd hate to admit it, the elf's a far better healer than I'd ever hope to be, the fact I remain alive to pen this entry is testament to that fact.
The vampire disappeared in a cloud of mist before we could strike back at him. While our group made for the Underdark and fishmen to return towards the surface, thinking it best to avoid anymore run ins with the blood suckers. A wise decision, as I'd already fallen prey to a number of traps they had rigged within the crypts beforehand.
Folks up in Peltarch thought to pester the undead as well. Marty leading our merry little band into the sewers and deeper. Keeping back towards the rear alongside Rhiain, Targohr and Val did most of the heavy lifting, fighting off the sewer's local population of cultists and sparse undead. We'd make decent progress into the barrows and further until a warning cry was sounded.
"Dread wraith!"
The nature of the creature we were facing was enough to send a shiver up my spine. It was seemingly able to ignore Targohr and Val's defenses, draining them with each passing touch. Their weapons did little to deter it's advance, Marty herself called for a retreat back the way we had come. But the Lady Val seemed to think otherwise as she enchanted her weapon with some manner of magic, striking at the wraith once again. We regrouped and redoubled our efforts, Marty using her number of scrolls and wands, and myself, going so far as to summon Kossuth's flames upon the enemy. With sheer persistence, we managed to whittle away at it's defences, before it finally succumbed to a final death.
Having expeneded our supplies and spells, we had little choice but to turn back. Marty made clear that the lot of us were very lucky to have survived that encounter, although Val seemed to think otherwise. Marty would later pull Val aside to talk out of earshot, more than likely about Legion affairs or perhaps of her ever growing confidence.
I had received word that the preparations for the ritual were readied, all that waited was to gather the folk willing to aid in the cause. Hearing from Rhiain of the troubles that Daveth had found himself in, having escaped from being jailed in the Norwick cells due to the prank pulled on Bran and Andrea. I traveled up to Peltarch in search of the inseparable pair.
Luck would have it that I would find them at the Mermaid, having drinks as they usually would. I had shared my concerns with Daveth earlier, of my father's plight up in the north, and he had thought it only right to accompany myself on the rescue endeavour. With the ritual being held down in Norwick, we came up with an elaborate disguise and Gunther the mute was created as an alias. A good choice, seeing as Rain and Bran were both there at the gathering when we arrived by boat.
We were given directions from whence we would arrive, having need to travel north towards the great plateau, and from there, north-west till we reach the foot of the mountain. The druidess of the Icehaven would warn us that a mighty pack of winter wolves roamed the lands, frost giants were known to hunt nearby as well, and more importantly, that we'd best be prepared to appease the great Auril if we planned on making it through alive.
Stepping through the portal, the smell of burning flesh was heavy in the air. As we turned towards the north, elementals of fire were gleefully burning what was left of the dead Icehaven tribesmen. Taniko rushed in with his usual war cry, katana held up high to draw their attention away from the rest of the group. The elementals were small and were dealt with swiftly, Val and Rain up front, with Daveth and Rhiain supporting from the rear. Upon their dissipation, we saw to it that the burning bodies were quenched, shoveling piles of snow over them. While working on such, Marty built a snow mound in offering towards Auril. I believe she deemed the offering worthy, as a cold blast of air blew past us, though we were left seemingly untouched and unaffected by the cold.
We did our best to navigate the woods, coming across several score of fire elementals as we did so, though always keeping a northerly course. A little ways in, we came across the pack of winter wolves, their alpha being one of the largest wolves I've ever laid eyes upon. We did our best to explain why we were within their woods, seeking to put an end to the fires of Kossuth with the blessings of Auril. The alpha seemed content with it and directed his pack off elsewhere. We soon came to the rescue of a number of tribesmen who were in the midst of fending off several more fire elementals. As we tried to converse with them, we realized none of them spoke common, nor any of us their tongue, we simply made do with moving along towards the north.
The Great Plateau was pretty much just that, a vast expanse of white, though it'd have seen better times. Bodies littered the vast distance, with the constant burning and smoke present in the air. We would aid numerous bands of tribesmen during our slow and steadied pace towards the foot of the mountain, coming across another druidess of the Icehaven tribe. From her words, I would confirm my worst fears, in that my father had indeed come here to aid these folk, and was last seen speaking to their chief up upon the mountain.
Our first encounter with the priests would be at the base of the mountain, a lone individual covered head to toe in armor, proudly bearing the symbol of Kossuth upon his breast and cloak. He was accompanied by a number of fire elementals though they proved to be of no challenge to the warriors amongst us. The priest himself was felled, and preparations for the climb had to be made. We readied our rope, as well as the picks and hatchets that Val had been foresighted enough to purchase. I can only imagine the amount of strength required to haul oneself up, clad in fullplate. But they did managed such a feat.
It would be a long and arduous journey up the mountain's side, the constant cold amongst the constant ambushes of fire elementals wearing us down. Having no chance to rest with the constant battering of elements, we simply trekked onwards, hoping for the best. I was foolish enough to throw myself into the melee a number of times, looking quite the idiot when I was hit with a hold spell as a result. The fate of my father weighed heavily on my mind, the sooner we met their chieftain, the sooner I'd get the answers I had come looking for.
We would find him and his men fighting off the invaders, though hardly requiring our help in that. He was a giant of a man, even amongst his own tribesmen, two verily large battle axes clenched in his hands. After a slight bump in our communication efforts, we were given permission to continue our ascent. I had asked about my father then, the druid of Silvanus who had come to their aid. From what we were lead to believe, he had remained at the top of the mountain and refused to leave his post. Aye, it sounded just like him.
And it wouldn't be that much longer before we found him. I saw him then as the others did, seated back against the mountainside, bloodied and broken. Without a moment's hesitation, I found myself at his side, calling upon what limited healings I had left. My father knew his time was upon himself, waving off our efforts. Instead, he talked to me at length, of what would drive him towards this final resting place upon the cold and lonely peak. I had always known he always blamed himself in the passing of my mother, and with the chieftain's wife murdered by the priests of Kossuth, he had found an unlikely chance to help another in his grief. Or by some bizarre logic, seek closure for his own. I honestly couldn't care at that point, as my father lay dying in my arms.
"We can't save everyone." was the final lesson from my father to me. He had chosen to spend his remaining days amongst strangers, helping them and asking nothing in return. This time, going so far as to give up his life for their cause. He could have remained within the High Forest, amongst friends and family, but chose not to and He didn't regret that decision. He handed me his staff, and asked of me, what I'd do from here on out. To make him proud, and not to ever hold back again was my reply. He smiled and did his best to chuckle, saying that he had always been proud of me, closing his eyes as he took to his eternal slumber, a measure of peace upon his aged features.
Words didn't come to me then, no rousing speech, no inspiring bravado, only a simple,
"Let's do this."
I am glad I had my companions with me then. For among the Kossuthan ranks was a fire giant, and their highpriest Lathaker Foebane. We used the terrain best we could, bringing the fight into the icy streams of the mountain. Having little of my innate magic left. I instead called upon the magicks of the staff passed on to me, healing all those who were wounded by the fire. During the battle I recalled the time my father had received the simple wooden staff from the elves of the High Forest, and how much of an honor it was for it to be gifted upon a human. And now, it would see to the death of my father's killer. Upon his death, I took the Kossuthan's cloak, in memory of this day.
The chieftain met up with us, thanking us for the efforts in ridding the mountains of the burning folk, and readied his own druids to send us back to Norwick. As I stepped through the portal, I could only hope that they would treat my father's remains with the respect deserving of a hero. I parted with those who had fought alongside me, taking the boat up to Peltarch with Daveth and Rhiain. At the Mermaid, Daveth would retire for the night, and I would find myself tucked away in a corner of the inn by a fire.
Finally away from everyone else and from the world, I simply cried._
-
_It appears I have a knack for stumbling upon folk getting themselves hurt. This time it appeared to be some manner of mage who wanted to be friends with those gathered by the fires, and was getting slightly too enthusiastic about his methods. Something along the lines of wanting to kill the folk and bring them back, and summoning abominations to terrorize them. By the end of it, I was a rather busy man, tending to all those gathered. Well, asides from Bran who managed to get himself horribly burnt by something. As I turned towards him, thinking the better of my petty differences with the barbarian, a portal opened by the ridge.
The magic was familiar, though those coming through were not. Four figures stepped through, looking as if they had walked through a fire and come out the other side. From their garments, it wouldn't be too far a stretch to say that they were most likely from a cold region, with thick furs and burly builds. In fact, in the way they held themselves, it reminded me very much of Horlamin. Among the four was a woman, the leader. Having spent most of my healing spells on the folk earlier, I did what I could for the men.
Before proper introductions could be made, fire elementals burst forth from nothingness, and charged at the four. The woman called out for aid from those gathered by the fires, Rain and Cara charging to the fore to engage the new foe. I was determined to keep the newcomers alive, shrugging off the flames of an elemental who had sought to stop me. It came to light that the elementals had followed them from whence they came, solely intent on their destruction. I saw to it that none of them fell, even if I did have to resort to my emergency supplies for that sake.
Having beaten back the elementals The woman spoke for the four, claiming themselves to be of the Icehaven tribe from the Great Glacier up north. She told us of their plight, of how priests of Kossuth were attacking their homes, burning everything in sight. A druid of Silvanus had come to their aid, and had sent them here in search of aid. She said that he wielded great power, but had refused to fight, tending to the wounded and hiding them away. After several insistent questions on my part, it became apparent as to who this druid of Silvanus was, least I think it's him. The druid elder who had since turned to the life of a simple travelling healer, Kyril, my father.
Last I saw of him was when we passed through the Great Dale together before parting ways at his behest. What would drive him to head towards the north eludes me, or as to why he'd turn to me for aid, amongst all the others he could have summoned to his side. This along all the other unknowns surrounding these events leave me worried. There is naught to do but wait until the preparations are complete, which would then have me following in my father's footsteps yet again.
Bugbears arrived at the southern gates today, their leader coming forward with his arms raised, looking to have come unarmed. I greeted them amiably, with Rhiain and Arlan at my side. Mostly because we were in no position to put up a fight, with most of the folk having retired into the town proper for the evening. They didn't seem to speak common, but there was mention of Norwick within their tongue. Together, the bugbears took to building some manner of construct right then and there, several feet away from the gates.
Given a few moments, it became clear as to what they were building. A rather large wooden effigy of the dracolich. Their leader squeezed into make-shift human clothing and began to attack the wooden construct, shouting a battle cry "Nor-wick!". Aye, much to what Rhiain had said, they were reenacting the scene much to our amusement. I offered them drinks and they did so in turn, having brought large wineskins in the spirit of celebration. The bugbears in the rear began beating on their drums as we joined in on the festives, drinking and making merry, as the lot of us danced around the burning effigy.
Those who would arrive later or during the event would stare almost in disbelief. For who in the right mind would do anything of the sort alongside bugbears?
As naive as it might be to say, a toast to peaceful times.
Well, I was robbed by a goblin today, or at least, Kahlia was for a whole two gold. The goblin went by the name of Fitzsqee, wielding a rapier as well as wearing a grubby laced collar of sorts. I honestly couldn't bring myself to take the situation seriously, with the flamboyant and rather articulate goblin demanding that we hand over our shinies. The elf with us didn't seem to think the same, instead with an arrow ever at the ready to fire.
Einrihch took Fitzsqee on the offer of a duel, brandishing his great sword. Much to my surprise, the goblin held it's own, going so far as to bring the fight to standstill. Though as Einrihch managed to land a crushing blow, Fitzsqee downed a potion and decided to take the fight seriously. This be a lesson in that I'd best not take appearances for granted, for the little goblin with a rapier, managed to beat Einrihch in a fair match.
I stepped up to heal the two, moving between the elf and the goblin as she moved to fire a number of arrows. Clearly thinking that I was deranged, she hastily took her leave. Regardless of that, I found myself rather fond of the little fellow and made sure he'd at least live to see his next encounter._
-
_The day had finally arrived, in which the gathered warriors of the realm would come together and strike back at the dracolich Scythohalingfel. As I passed by the Norwick fires, golems of iron stood by the gates of the Great Hall, being prepared by a fellow named Bingo. And out past the southern gates, Horlamin and the druids were building sacrificial mounds, though as to their purpose, I knew not. Looking among those who would step up and take their blades and magic to the enemy, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe and respect for all those gathered that day. In comparison, I was simply about to turn and take the boat up to Peltarch and await the news of their endeavours.
I stood by the Norwick farmlands, waiting for the arrival of the ferry. When it did, Alexi walked off the plank, travelling packs stocked full of bottled potions for the fight ahead. At that I realized Alexi was much the same as myself, doing what he could for the greater good and not expecting recognition for it, though the difference being that I was a coward choosing to run at the darkest hour. Shamed at that, I accompanied him as we walked back towards the southern gates to see how the preparations were coming along.
At our arrival, the druids were still going about their preparations, success was had when the pyres exploded in brilliant flame, and the skies above the southern Rawlins began to darken and storm. The Lady Rith stepped forward beckoning all who would do battle with the dracolich to step beyond the flames. People began stepping forward without hesitation, while Alexi and I stood undecided whether we would go with them or see to escorting the folk evacuating.
Simply nodding at each other as we stepped forward to join the others, both of us coming to terms with what we had to do. Alexi then handed me a magical ring, fashioned to look like a bolt. He said it was a memento of his past, and that he was expecting me to hand it back to him when this was all over, implying that we would live to see the end of the attack. I could merely smile and assure him that I would.
At Albryanna’s command, the golems strode forth from within the gates. The constructs of destruction were truly an intimidating sight to behold. For some odd reason, the Lady Rith then commanded the construct to attack and kill the spellcaster named Ronan, and it proceeded to do so. I could only exchange glances with Alexi wondering if she was fit to lead after all. Albryanna having none of it, quickly brought things under order barking commands at all those present.
I kept to the rear alongside Alexi as the entire company made for the Lost City. Through the southern ruins, past the lake and into the woods of the ghost wolves we walked, cutting a swift path through all that stood in the way. A yuan-ti made her presence known and was swiftly killed by those there, and after a moment while discussions were being done, we began the ascent towards the Lost City.
The cliffs leading towards the city was a constant battle, with mummified harpies swooping in within our ranks, skeleton archers firing from afar and the usual hordes of undead rushing at us from both sides. Jerrick took to leading the rear guard where I was seemingly stationed, and alongside Rain, fought back at the undead forces with sheer determination. I kept Alexi within eyeshot at all times, as we had made a pact that we would survive together till the end.
We split into groups of four to cross the bridge leading into the city proper, our forces facing off against the animated guardians, ranging from giants to dragon like statues. The plan was to head for the foundations of the tower, and perhaps bring it down from there. At the lowest level, we found ourselves amidst a number of ornate sarcophagi. And it was there we would fight a mighty undead warrior and his minions, and after triggering the trap, find the rapier “Soul Render” within his resting place. Folk seemed divided as to whether they would take or leave the weapon, and eventually decided with the latter.
It would seem the trip downwards was for naught, as we turned back retracing our steps back to the levels above.
Thus far, it would seem the undead forces were not giving the warriors much of a problem. It was only until we made into the dracolich’s laboratory where things made a turn for the worst. Upon opening the doors within, spells were casted upon us by an unknown foe, blinding and stunning all those caught in the effects. Some even turned on their former companions, as I watched the warrior Maya rage discriminately against all those nearest to her. I kept myself pressed up against the walls around the corridor, doing my best to keep a level head through the shouting and sounds of battle. I believe a number fell to that onslaught, the elf named Yuki and the ever vigilant Yingdir.
Portals were found throughout the complex, constantly spewing forth Hezrou. From what I could gather from the folk marching on ahead, the rotating spheres we had passed powered them, but they seemed in a hurry to press on and disregarded the idea of destroying them. For once I took the initiative, alongside the mage Belma’r and Vanderkaus, destroyed the spheres much to Belia’s insistence that we shouldn’t. I know not if our efforts were of any effect, though the portals seemed docile on our next passing.
When I caught up with the rest of the group, Aelthas was working on a control console of some design, with advisement from Aramuil, in attempt to terminate whatever activity was going on, least that’s what I could gather with what was being said. I can honestly only describe what I saw, having not been among those briefed of the “plan”. An orb stood on a pedestal nearby, which the Lady Val insisted should be taken along with us. The group seemingly ignored her warnings, pressing on towards the next room, though not before a stranger seemingly teleported into the room, and made his way towards the orb. Only then were folk mindful of the orb’s existence, rushing back to confront the hooded man. Again, I wasn’t privy to the events that transpired.
Later, it would seem as though our forces had broken into two. Aelthas was leading one, working at the controls of another contraption and Albryanna the other, continuing to clear the halls of would-be foes. Though from the way Albryanna was shouting at her number, they weren’t quite listening. Regrouping our forces, we made for the upper levels, fighting our way towards the top.
Once on the roof, a hound archon appeared addressing the Lady Rith. This too, was seemingly part of the plan. From what we gathered, the roof would be our only chance at preparing before the final battle with Scythohalingfel. From the sounds of battle below, it became apparent that the Yuan ti had made their push into the Lost City, engaging the Drow forces in combat. The effects of the druidic ritual continued to storm overhead, we made due resting with the constant battering rain. Even with Aelthas’s attempt at an inspiring speech, it seemed undermined with the victory cries of the Yuan ti below.
I can’t honestly say what was running through my mind as I crossed the bridge leading into the dracolich’s lair. The sight of so many with the looks of grim determination on their faces, armed to the teeth with sword and magic. Perhaps this is what epics are made of, folk of all kinds banding together for a common purpose, whatever their motivation, for the greater good of the realm. I took a deep breath, walking up the stairs into a battle well beyond my limited experience.
It is hard to express in words the battle that transpired then. Scythohalingfel was surrounded by our number, trying its best to strike back at our many. I called upon my own magic then, thinking I could help in some way, however little. I stood in awe as the terrible beast wavered under the onslaught of magic and martial might, the eyes within its hollow sockets fading. The cries of triumph filled the air as it keeled over and fell motionless upon the cold ground. Even with the reminder that that the tower phylactery remained standing did not deter those from celebrating for the moment.
An unnatural chill was hanging in the air, amongst the excitement earlier I had failed to notice such. Scouts who were sent to the upper levels, came back looking deathly cold, reporting the existence of a portal. Those leading seemed to believe it would lead us to the Hungry One, and that we should take this rare chance to put an end to the taint in the Rawlins. They weren't too far off the mark, as we were faced with a giant bear, an aura of deathly cold surrounding it. Those who were in the know-how named it as an avatar of the Hungry One. Our company was split between fighting the avatar as well as the hezrou forces being summoned to aid our foe. Though it too fell as the dracolich did.
Having proved victorious over the dracolich and avatar of a demi-god, it was only natural for everyone to aim higher, for the demi-god himself. The final destruction of the Hungry One. Those who had come so far, took a moment before the final battle. The druids gathering amongst themselves for a manner of ritual. I merely conversed with Alexi, on how we were clearly in over our heads, having no idea what was going on, or whether stepping through the next portal would be the last thing we'd do. All the same, we followed where the group went, in fear that if we were left behind, and faced with any remnants of the enemy's forces, we'd die a much quicker death alone.
We appeared in the ruins of what looked to be of an elvish settlement, a thick layer of snow covered the lands around us. And the welcome wagon of elven warrior spirits surrounded us and attacked. Our foe, who was now named as Wendigo stood up upon the ridge, raining icestorms upon those below. I took cover behind one of the elvish dwellings, though I was still battered by the falling ice. The battle was concluded when an elf from our number pierced Wendigo's chest with his spear, ending the threat for good.
We returned to the portal and made our way back towards Norwick. I thought I heard a whisper, and turned back long enough to witness the complete and utter destruction of the eastern spire. The druid ritual had worked, and now Scythohalingfel was gone for good as well. Least, from what I understood of the events thus far.
Even as the dracolich's horde was being split amongst all of us, Aramuil didn't seemed pleased with the events afterwards, worried as to the location of the artifact orbs and of the dangers they'd present if the Yuan ti had it within their possession. I would have shared in his worries, if not for the fact I was exhausted from the entirety of the events that had transpired and that I was clueless as to the orbs' nature.
I managed to procure a wineskin filled with Elven Meade, and a stretchy suit of light armor. It is an odd piece of equipment, coloured blue and red with a webbed design, with the motif of a spider emblazoned on the chest piece. The material itself seems to be of rubbery chitin woven together with spider silk, and rather sticky to touch. Interestingly, there seems to be some manner of wrist mechanism built in, that when applied pressure, fires streams of webbing. I’ve tried it on a number of occasions, but it seems I haven’t got the hand-eye coordination for such things. Having worn it out recently, people have begun mistaking me for a bard and I can hardly blame them for it. It looks ridiculous.
And they ask, What is a Hero?
though the answer is very clear,
He is the one who faces danger
when the darkness hovers near.He will face the fiercest foe
when another needs his aid,
He will dare to defy Death
even though he is afraid,He works not just for glory
and he does it not for gain,
But because he knows that others
will be spared a greater pain.Never once was I addressed by the others, instead constantly being told to move or wait. Actually I was addressed once, the halfling Benji implying that I should shut up after one of my comments on the leadership of the group. I healed those who were wounded, mostly faces of those I’ve never met. And on the off chance, fortifying Abryanna and the other frontline warriors with my magicks. I would play a small role in the events that would lead to Scythohalingfel and the Hungry One’s destruction, but this was not my tale._
-
_It happened rather suddenly, while I was chatting by the fires with Daveth and Rhiain. Through some manner of projection or sending spell, a lady appeared before us, pleading for us to help them. She seemed to turn towards an unseen companions, bidding them to buy more time, as the sounds of steel clashing sounded in the air. She told us that a man of Silvanus would come and that we would need to listen to him, though the latter part was purely conjecture, as the spell was expended before she could relay anymore.
In the manner of which she looked at me, I couldn’t help but think she knew me, though I did not recognize her in turn. Perhaps I had helped her along my travels? I can barely recall all the faces as it is.
Thinking to tide the Dracolich’s attack in Oscura, I sat at their local inn, drinking a little more than I rightly should have. My timing seemed impeccable, as word had spread that the Sisters of Bone were looking for able-bodied folk to run a manner of errand for them. A number of folk had gathered, most of them I would recognize from previous ventures.
I vaguely recall being told that we would be investigating an old temple of Mulhorandi origin, and to bring back any related texts or artifacts from within. Our reward was a sum of gold, and any of the items the Sisters deemed we could keep as our own.
With that, we were tossed through a portal, and stepped into a desert in the middle of nowhere. I took the time to purge the contents of my stomach as the others felt compelled to formulate a plan. Brendel and Celad were sent scouting ahead, into the desert seemingly unaware of the staircase and temple entrance right behind us.
Upon regrouping, Kayden led our little merry band of adventurers, while I simply stuck to the rear alongside Korlis as we’ve worked together in the past. Disturbingly, the temple walls seemed to be constructed out of flesh, it wasn’t too far an assumption to believe we would be facing undead on this trip. Further along, past a number of traps that Korlis dealt with, skeletons rose from the ground and attacked the group. With Kayden, Apollo, Cara and Talyna holding the frontline, it really wasn’t all that much of an issue.
We soon found ourselves within a chamber filled with a noxious and deadly gas. We decided to backtrack and head along a different route as we noted that the gas was beginning to spread. Pressing onwards, we would be introduced to skeletons that could cast rather painful looking spells. At least from the reactions I could make out from the warriors getting hit. There were a number of close calls, but I managed to keep all of our number alive and well till that point. Among the ruins, we would find a number of books, with topics ranging from history to faiths.
The books would soon become an important clue, as we were faced with a new challenge. A single chamber with a statue of a sphinx situated in its center. As members of the party entered past the threshold of the tunnel, they were bombarded with spells from the statue. Talyna noted that she was told of such things among her friend’s tales, and that they were used to deter tomb raiders. After constant observations and brainstorming, I pointed out that the books we found may in fact have a clue hidden within.
There was a missing page in one of the tomes numbering two-three-one. This would be the answer towards the riddle of the sphinx. With the druid Soliel shapechanging into a feline form, the sphinx would ignore her while she pulled the levers in the rear in that order, shutting it down. Congratulating ourselves over our ingenuity, we continued on into the dark halls.
It became apparent as the hallways widened and the designs grander, that we were nearing the final chambers. Readying ourselves for the worst, we were faced with several mummies, among them a leader of sorts. Never have I faced such a fierce foe, as its unnatural aura sent people into fearful bouts, causing them to run from the battle. Mundane steel and even that of magical nature barely did much to it. I noted that Kayden dropped back to use several number of scrolls against it, and when depleted of those, rushed forward to hold it off from attacking the less prepared. Apollo did much the same, with spells of his faith, and the steel of his weapons. But even all that was not enough to fell such a terrible foe.
Faced with such a situation, I ran forward into the melee without a thought, pouring what healing magic I had into the undead’s body. It seemed to realize the danger I posed and turned to strike at me, knocking me back with its supernatural strength. Korlis called me out on my actions, shouting that I was being a “hero”. Thinking about it now, my actions were foolish. I could well have gotten myself killed with my recklessness, and put the rest in danger being among the only healers within the group. But my plan seemed to work, as the positive energy had weakened it enough for others to finally end its existence.
We gathered up whatever we could and made our way back, thankfully without any incident. The sisters were kind enough to hand out five hundred gold as payment to us each and a score of items they had no use for.
Among the spoils was a small ornate pot which came into my possession. The contents within it, to my surprise, were still alive. Squirming within its small space was quite the number of leeches. From what I knew of such things, they were most likely used for medicinal purposes by the Mulhorandi. Though I honestly wonder if anyone would allow me to release these little horrors onto them willingly._
-
_Some manner of folk had decided to claim Norwick as their own, pitching tents out along the pass in preparation of a siege. The defenders of Norwick took the fight to them, Marty alongside Val, Taniko, Danika and Soliel fought brilliantly, even as they stood surrounded three to one. All the while, Taniko bellowing his challenge for their leader to show himself, even as he stood bloodied and near death.
I took little part in the events, happenstance having me there as they charged the enemy. Caught unprepared an devoid of my most potent spells, I made due with what supplies I had on hand, be it scrolls or balms. My efforts made sure that Rhiain would not be lost as she lay bleeding to the arrows lodged in her leathers.
Even with it over, the battle itself seemed to have a lasting effect on the Lady Val, some talk of which peasants were forced to fight against her, and fell to her blade. Marty spoke to her at length about it, as we sat by the fires.
Hobgoblins came to the gates, though not charging in with the usual blood thirst and frenzy. Their leader, going by the name of Gazelbu had found a magical axe, claiming it to be of Tempus. He had come seeking battle with a Temposan to see first-hand, if a human god would be stronger than his own. Additionally, the victor of said duel would leave with the loser’s weapon.
Fittingly, Hammer was present to step up to the challenge. Taking a moment to pray and casting a number of blessings upon himself, the fight began. The two seemed at even terms, trading blows with one another, with their shields at the ready. Gazelbu seemed to find an opening in Hammer’s defenses striking a mortal blow, nearly felling him outright. Wounded, but hardly any less determined, Hammer saw the fight to its bitter end, with him bleeding onto the ground.
With Hammer handing over his weapon to the Hobgoblin, Gazelbu forewarned that they would return in the evening. Perhaps they seemed to share a mutual respect of sorts as to reveal such. Hammer took it as an impending attack from the hobgoblin forces, and rounded up a bunch of would-be defenders. Among them would be a warrior with a two handed blade, Soliel and myself. I simply fell back to seeing their wounds, seeing as they thought they had matters in hand.
Though that thought was proved gravely wrong, as their numbers rushed us at the gates, accompanied by the constant barrages of catapult fire. Were it not for the timely arrival of the Norwick guard, I imagine events would not have turned out for the better.
With the guards holding the gates, the four of us circled out into their encampment to take out their siege weapons. In doing so, we came across Gazelbu once again. Though with the four of us together, it hardly seemed a fair fight.
All in all, it ended on a fairly happy note, with Hammer obtaining the Temposan axe. While I managed to procure a pair of boots, that’d be rather handy in what I do. And a handful of spores, which I imagine could be used for great harm.
Alexi seemed to share my sentiment on that, and for once we spoke at length. He seemed somewhat different, not the easy-go-lucky merchant that folk were used to. Instead, he seemed lucid, tired and bitter. But more importantly, ever hopeful.
He seems to think I’d have a part to play in things to come, and I can’t imagine why. Though with folk like him by my side, I believe I wouldn’t mind facing the dracolich. Even if I were just too simply fall at the first wave of forces.
Hope is indeed a dangerous thing._
-
_The attacks on the southern gates have worsened, as more of the dracolich’s forces have come to bear. Skeletal dragons, some manner of dragon spawn, demon folk who swoop in from the rear, ambushing those who thought themselves safe and hordes among hordes of undead. Among the defenders I’ve come to know were the Lady Val, alongside Alexi, Maria and Taniko.
Even armed with his Blade of the Heavens, Taniko seemed to have some manner of trouble with the skeletons. I handed him the staff I had found during the foiling of the Cyricist plot. A simple staff with a minor enchantment to allow easier deflection of blows. In turn, he handed me a pair of rusted scimitars he had retrieved from the skeleton warriors he had fought prior. Rusted beyond proper use, with the faint corruption of the dracolich’s influence, I thoroughly doubt it wise to wield them in battle.
Daveth and I had returned from our usual trip out in the woods, and decided that we’d share a drink and relax at the inn. Walking up the hill and past the burning fires, I noticed a small movement in the corner of my eye as we passed by the crafter’s hall. Daveth seemed to spot it as well, though it quickly ran off towards the east. Thinking nothing of it, we continued towards the inn.
At the doors off the inn, I noticed movement once again, as it came closer; it appeared to be a child’s toy, a doll. Curiosity getting the better of the two of us, we chased after it, flanking it just behind the Dwarvern Hold’s store. Seemingly caught, it stood still within the tall grass, for all purposes looking nothing more than a mundane toy
Recalling the incidents in where dolls have exploded and taken the lives of folk, we took caution in nearing it. Daveth picked it up, giving it a once over, noting how it looked rather creepy and doubted it could hold any amount of an explosive charge on it’s miniscule body. Suddenly, the doll came to life once more, escaping and rushing off past the crafter’s hall.
The two of us gave chase after it once again, seemingly having nothing else better to do for the day. Racing up the eastern hill, I believe I saw it sneaking into the Phoenix’s guild house. Following it in, we gave the common room a brief search, under the tables and chairs, and found nothing. Having lost the trail of our quarry, we fell back on our original plan on having drinks.
Daveth turned in for the night, leaving me to nurse my drink along with my thoughts. Promptly thinking the better of it, I thought to follow Daveth’s example and made my way past the table and chairs towards the stairs. As I passed the innkeeper’s desk, I nearly walked into a new arrival. At first glance, it was obvious there was something about the fellow, though coupled with the alcohol and my blissful ignorance; I thought nothing of it as I exchanged greetings with the man.
It came to light that he was in fact looking for the doll I had previously encountered, and that it belonged to a friend of his. As we continued to talk, Rold seemed mightily perturbed at the man’s presence, in fact, complete and utter fear was in his eyes and face. Thinking it best to have the man go on his way, I told him what I knew of the doll and that it was last seen over at the Phoenix’s. At that, he thanked me and strode out the door.
This was when I would learn of the man’s name and the history to go with it, being that of Fendon. Descriptions would have him battling the Phoenix and other heroes, being the suspected leader of the powers under the well, as well as being powerful enough not to remain dead when struck down. The innkeeper thought it would be a good idea to alert the Norwick Herald D’Cameron as to the recent turn of events, and I agreed to the simple request.
The Herald seemed to share the same sentiment of Fendon’s arrival in town, confirming the tales described by the innkeeper. Though she seemed wary of what I told her as it was rather far fetched. Fendon having arrived in town, in search of a doll and that he hadn’t killed anyone yet. It was decided that she would warn the Phoenix and in turn, I was told to alert Timmot of the guard and that I would keep silent on the matter.
I did manage to find Timmot by the southern slope, the poor fellow having been turned to stone. D’Cameron managed to cure his condition, and he promptly left towards the south to check whether Fendon had left just yet. Upon talking to Soliel who was past the gates, it would have seemed otherwise.
Meeting up with Daveth, I convinced him to take up the hunt for the doll once more. Picking up where we left off, we searched the guild house again. This time, finding a note tucked away within the bookshelf. From what was written, someone was being held captive somewhere beginning with “C”, and that Dwin should be warned. Having no idea whether this was linked to the doll, we handed the note over to D’Cameron, who suggested we have a look at the catacombs below Peltarch.
Thinking it best to find others to bolster our numbers, Daveth and I made back for the southern gates, where people would usually be gathered.
And gathered they were, Arlan and Rasuil standing at the ruined gates, confronting one of the demon ladies. She offered us the chance to fight for their cause, to join the winning side. As much as I had my doubts on the matter, I simply asked if there was a neutral option. She replied it would be as simple as moving north towards Peltarch.
She left then, but not without first sending undead forces to attack. With only the four of us defending the gates, we retreated back towards the town, suffering from heavy injuries. We warned the guards, and prepared for the worst, though it never came.
Apparently, Taniko had arrived from the south and had defeated the remaining undead along side one other.
With the attack over and done with, Daveth and I got back to our earlier plan. Recruiting Taniko and the elf Lea to help with our endeavour. On reaching Peltarch, Einrihch soon joined our number as well. Having no clue where to begin, we made for the sewer, down being the correct direction and all.
We came across minor undead doing battle with oozes and jellies. And we’d learn to loathe the oozes, as they were close to impossible to kill with weapons alone. Taniko and Einrihch taking the longest time to wear a single one of them down.
Past a gathering of cultists, we did manage to find a tunnel leading deeper into the earth and into the catacombs. It looked to be some manner of barrow, the stench of death heavy in the dry and stale air. With no real idea as to where we should start the search, we made do by pressing on towards a general direction of forward.
We managed to fight our way into an empty crypt, where we came to the conclusion that we’d best regroup and attempt this at another time, as we had barely made it through with our lives as it was. The trip back up was uneventful, other than another fight with oozes and slimes.
Whoever this person being held captive is, I hope he or she can last awhile longer.
Over in Peltarch’s inn, it would seem a healthy crowd was building up. Among them I recognized Vash, Korlis as well as Cara. I would soon be introduced towards two more of the folk, a drunkard by the name of Marcus and the halfling Merial.
It didn’t take too long for trouble to find us, as the Guard Lisa came in offering a task and payment for willing folk. A caravan had been overdue in its arrival, and the lot of us were sent off after it. It was close to half a week’s worth of travelling, so we were advised to leave prepared. With Vash taking lead of the group and with map in hand, we left as soon as we were all ready
Barely being able to stand the cold weather, I sat huddled by the fires for the most part, even when a raiding party of hobgoblins came barrelling through the forest towards us. Upon defeating them, Merial scouted the trail in which they came, leading us towards the ruins of the caravan we were meant to find.
Remnants of the raiding party were still there, we took caution in leaving one to be interrogated, though he remained tight-lipped as to the location of their hold. Tied up to a tree, Vash had his bear eat the poor fellow alive, much to the dismay of a number of us. By the time I stopped hesitating and walked up to deliver a mercy kill, the hobgoblin had long since expired.
Upon further inspection of the wreckage, dead bodies laid strewn about, from the looks of them, they were the guards of the caravan. The merchants and most of the goods were missing, most probably taken into wherever the hobgoblins’ main forces were hold up in.
As we discussed our next course of action, we were beset upon by a pack of winter wolves. Vash did his best to talk them into submission with his druidic tongue, while I concentrated on calming a single one. And in that I was successful, the rest having been killed off by the party. With the fight over and done with, Marcus strode up attempting to fire a bolt into the wolf’s head. Fortunately, in his drunken stupor, he could hardly aim straight, letting the wolf go sprinting back into the woods.
Merial scouted ahead, revealing that the hobgoblins were holding some manner of ritual at a giant tree. Their shaman was ordering their kind to walk into a stone circle about the tree, which caused them to die. Thinking no good would come of it, Vash led the charge into their ranks, shredding most of them in his bear form. Marcus stumbled into the circle and seemed to hurt himself in the process.
Being a druid, Vash spoke to the tree, revealing that the hobgoblins were corrupting the roots of the great tree, which would in turn; cause the complete desolation of the entire forest. Vash seemed to dig into the ground, taking a piece of the great tree’s root with him.
With Merial’s skills at tracking and scouting, it didn’t take long for us to find their hold, situated within a cave against the northern hill. The trek through the cave itself was full of danger, with traps placed throughout as well as well-placed ambushes by the defenders. Though with Cara’s martial skills and Korlis’s magic we made steady progress into the back chambers of the tunnels.
On arriving, we could see the surviving merchants trapped within cages, and the hobgoblin’s chieftain sitting triumphantly on his throne just within view. It was a tough battle, with the chieftain running after me, if I ever neared Vash with a readied healing spell. Cara was cut down during the battle, though I wasn’t quite sure how, being caught up in the thick of the battle. The drunkard rushed forward to pour some manner of concoction down her throat, which received a stern lecture from Vash, who took it upon himself to see to Cara’s fallen form. Apparently through the use of the root and a manner of prayer, he brought her back, if just barely.
The merchants were freed, the altar causing the taint destroyed, and we made the long journey back towards Peltarch.
As we all went our separate ways, Vash handed me a part of the root he had, thinking it best if I could put it to use. I dare hope I do not disappoint._
-
_Hammerhand deems me a coward. I wouldn’t blame him, given his following and faith.
I had shared with him my plans to leave the lands along with the evacuees and was promptly browbeaten.
I told him that we were hardly prepared for such an attack. There is far more we could do, but as to what, I am unsure. I am not familiar with the politics of the neighboring settlements or factions, and whether they would be willing to offer aid in such. But all the same, shouldn’t we at the least, attempt to gather as many as we can against the dracolich?
As he was quick to put, there is no “we” in this and that they were as prepared as they would ever be.
I’ve finally had my run in with the shadows, during my usual stints by the southern gates. With the descending darkness they came, draining the life out of whoever they touched. I did my best to avoid them, keeping a distance from where the fighting was being done. As the defenders fought for their lives, warnings sounded into the night sky. The town itself was under attack.
Thinking the heroes had it well in hand, Daveth and I decided to make for Peltarch instead. To scout out the swamps in which dead bodies were reportedly laying strewn about. The boat ride up was uneventful as was the trip itself, though I did get to meet Daveth’s titled second student, Grace.
On our return to Norwick, the heroes were already back and splitting the spoils of their venture. Of note, I overhead the group mention that Soliel had fallen during the trip. Though they did mention they would raise her at the temple, relieving any thought of worry in my mind.
I managed to laugh it off with Daveth. if somewhat morbidly in comparing her to Daveth’s first student, Rhiain.
The boat was taking in far too much water than they had anticipated, even with First Mate Daveth diligently shoveling it out with his helmet. Coupled with the storms overhead it was no surprise that self appointed Captain Rhiain would order the abandonment of the ship. Though it was also partly due to the timely lightning bolt that took the life of the beloved parrot.
Diving over the side and into shark infested waters, they could only stare in horror as the ship sunk along with it’s cargo of magical goods. Thankfully, the Captain was quick to point out another ship a distance away. They made a swim towards it, quickly clambered aboard to find it unmanned, much to their delight.
At that moment, a kraken burst forth from below the waves. A kraken that very much resembled an undead brown bear, but a kraken none the less. Quick on his feet, Daveth ordered Powder Monkey Garviel to fire the cannons, in which he did. Even with the aim being slight off, it dealt a mortal blow to the creature.
Having enough imaginary adventures for the day, the three made their way towards the inn to share a drink and toast to future endeavors.
Attacked by shadows once again. I have Elidor, Rasuil and Grorg to thank for my life, as without the spells prepared, there was little I could do against them.
I had thought the heroes had seen to the end of such. Perhaps these were merely remnants of whatever force they had vanquished.
Aye, I’d like to think that for now._
-
_I’ve been spending the days by the fires, sharing the company of Daveth and Rhiain. We talk about nothing all that important, smiling and laughing. Almost blissfully ignorant of the dealings out south, and the assault on the Draco-lich that is to come.
The ravens have taken a liking to Rhiain, both of who share a fondness of shiny things, I would imagine. Her persistence in befriending them was rewarded, a ring of sorts, which would prove useful in her locksmithing career.
On the other hand, Daveth and I helped a little girl, who had problems with a recently purchased bucket.
I’ve heard of wyverns living out in the Rawlins, but this would be the first I’ve seen with my own eyes. From the looks of it, it was old for one of its kind, with not many years left. It stood before the ruined southern gates, a number of folk busy discussing what they would do. Among their number was a Banite, Emiko and another one of her eastern friends.
I stood up on the ridge, observing for the most part. From the looks and rumblings from the wyvern’s stomach, it was hungry. It made no move to attack the three, instead barreling past them to get at the cooking pot, knocking it over in its haste. At this, the Banite seemed to grow impatient, beginning to cast a number of spells on himself, most probably in preparation to slay the beast.
Having no want for bloodshed, I thought it best to lead the beast away from the gates. The plan worked to an extent, using what food I had on me to make a trail off into the woods. I hadn’t honestly thought it through as by the time I had run out, it was standing in front of me, still hungry for more. The Banite chose the moment to strike at the beast with sword and spell. Once again, I found myself helping the wrong side, making sure the beast was well enough to make it’s escape by air.
And most naturally, getting told off by the Banite for my naivety.
Though he did not have long to do so before an assault came from the draco-lich’s forces. His minions, a pair of demon like women summoning all manner of undead and creatures to strike at us. Taniko joined the defenses then, pushing them back towards the southern woods.
I healed who I could, and against my better judgment thought to leave them to the fighting while I went hunting to replenish my travelling rations. As I turned around a gathering of trees, who else would I bump into then one of the demonic ladies. I sought to seek safe passage through, as I had no want for battle. She merely laughed and sent a flying creature at me.
I fended it off, batting at it with my arms as I retreated back towards the gates, where the adventurers dealt with it. I thought it best to wait till daylight before attempting another trip out.
A group was gathering to make a trip down into the crypts, led by the lady Val. Alongside her was Horlamin, Taniko and Dietrick. I fine group if any to join in such an attempt. Though before the appointed time in which we would leave, the undead thought it better to save us the walking, and come to us instead. A thick fog fell over the woods, as hordes of zombie rats swarmed towards the gates. Two more familiar faces came to the wall’s defenses, Bran and Andrea, charging head long into the fray as always.
An unnatural darkness followed, where the shadows became the next danger. Daveth handed me a torch, so that we could see, but it hardly managed to do much good. Instead, I would rely on his keen eyesight to callout who and where a person was in need of care.
Dietrick thought it best to investigate the source of the undead, rushing off towards the graveyard, leaving the group with no choice but to follow.
Observing how Andrea was getting herself hurt again, I off-handishly commented on the results of Bran’s lessons. The results of which was no surprise. Bran with all his usual anger and rage, grabbed at my blade, using it to sock me in the head, and tossing it into the woods. It would be the first time it’s drawn blood, though on no part of my own.
As we continued to fight through the darkness and shadows, I made a bet with Daveth as to who would be the first and second to fall. And how right I was when members of the group abruptly turned on one another. Apparently, the demon ladies had made their appearance once more, sowing chaos within our ranks. I made myself scarce as Daveth came under the spell’s influence, charging past me to stab Bran in the back. In hindsight, I should not have taken too much pleasure in that, given the situation.
After we’ve managed to regroup, words were exchanged, though I did not catch most of it, as I was behind cover, in the case that the demons had thought it prudent to rain spells once more. I watched as the pair of demons dropped a darkness spell on the group and flew off.
And that was the end of that, as we left back towards town, nursing what wounds we still had.
The fighting was hardly over, as specters were waiting for us on our return. Undead spirits which Daveth had described as being the cause of Rhiain’s recent death. One made a beeline for Andrea, draining the life out of her with a single touch. I suppose it was a matter of luck that I was near enough to save her life, though I doubt anyone would recall it as such.
We were soon joined by Hammerhand who had arrived in time to put an end to the specters alongside the other folk. With the danger dealt with, I made for the inn to rest and recuperate, my spells all but expended during the course of the trip.
On my return to the southern walls, it would seem that the danger was again, not over. Two warriors from the draco-lich’s army stood stoically out south, calling out for a champion to step forward for a duel. And if our side won, we would be given a month’s time to evacuate Norwick.
There was much discussion as to who would be the one to fight, and whether there was a point to it all. The two warriors stood waiting, with their undead like patience. In the end, it would be Taniko who stepped forward.
It was hardly a fight, the warrior toying with Taniko for the longest time. When struck down, the undead warrior commented on how there were no longer warriors able enough to face them, on how the time of heroes have long since passed during their slumber. Our group said nothing as they left, leaving Taniko with his lost honor and only course of action. I thought to talk him out of it, but Val and Hammer thought it best to let him go through with his ritualistic suicide.
I know not the fate of the warrior from the east, having left in frustration and anger.
How are we to stand a chance against enemies like those?
As the undead warrior had questioned, where are the heroes now?_
-
_Soliel has calmed enough that we managed to speak in length and overcome our differences. Her heart still belongs to Araendel, and I've come to terms with that even if she hasn't.
I had said once that she was meant for a greater path, and I was not at all incorrect at that. During her travels through the planes to save Benji, she has acquired a rather interesting blade with a fascinating history. One that would surely mark her place in the purification of the disease plaguing the Rawlins. Furthermore, she has spoken with Jerrick on the matter of joining the Circle. There is little I can do but watch, and eventually take my leave.
As I told her, travelling is in my blood, and it would only be a matter of time before I pack up and leave for my next port. Wherever that is, I continue to hope that I may be able to help those in need of my skills.
The four of us were just outside the gates when we spotted the lady. Soliel was first to bolt to her feet and follow after her, Elidor close at her heels. Dietrick who was taking a nap at the time was soon to rush off after them, after I explained the situation. A women skulking about in Cyric's colors was never a good sign.
A bloody gurgle followed by a loud thud was all I heard as I rounded the corner of the trees, as Elidor had promptly silenced a spellcaster with an arrow or two. The skulking woman was quick to retreat through a portal, even with several arrows in her. There was a moment of debate as to what we should have done, and we walked through the portal, knowing full well of the possible dangers ahead.
Senseless slaughter is how I would describe it. The three of them cutting down waves of unarmed men as they had hoped to rush us in surprise. Their ranks broke just as suddenly, running and screaming for their lives as Elidor continued to fell those who would dare retreat. Dietrick and Soliel simply cutting a swath through all who would oppose the group of us, and I, tried my best to keep the contents in my stomach in place. Thankfully, Dietrick had been thoughtful enough to keep a single one alive, long enough for him to share what he knew. He confessed the cult was attempting a ritual, and that there was nothing we could do to stop it.
Oddly fitting as all the blood the three had spilled was fueling the ritual itself, which came to fruition before our eyes. Thankfully, Dietrick was more than able to do battle with the demons that came through the rift, with the rest of us standing about uselessly. The most I could do was tend to the poison one had struck him with.
The bodies of the innocent were laid to rest in Kelemvor's grounds. This entire affair has left a sour taste in my mouth. Yes, if given the chance the cult would have ended our lives without a second thought, but to have them cut down mercilessly, bodies piled up in mounds…
It had started simply enough, with dire animals attacking the southern gates. The town's defenders holding their own for the longest time against the constant horde of rats. Among us, Yngdir, Daveth and Arlan firing countless of arrows into them, with Wynn and her spells doing much the same. The rats eventually managed to scale the cliffs, swarming the defenders and causing a measure of injuries.
Events took a turn for the worst as the gates were suddenly battered down by what looked to be an earth elemental. It ran amok within our ranks, charging for whoever was closest. I had tried to run around it, but was knocked aside as it's fist came a full round into my chest. It hurt, but it wouldn't be the end of me. The elemental was finally brought down by Taniko's timely arrival and the constant ranged battering by our archers.
Night soon fell and the Yuan Ti came again, bringing reinforcements to aid us. Their numbers soon dwindled with the constant wave of enemies that assaulted the now open gates. I summoned what magic I could to help, but it proved all but useless against our new foes. Some manner of undead and mephits that spewed acid. When given the chance, those who could rest did so. But the constant fear of another attack was fresh in mind.
I looked to the sky, thinking it wouldn't be much longer before's daylight. Perhaps the attacks would cease then. As if in response, the ground shook, not once, but continuously, portending the arrival of our final foe that night. A giant creature of some kind, putrid and foul, lumbered into view. The defenders held their ground, some even charging to meet it in melee combat.
"Healer!"
Came Taniko's cry as he held off the abomination on his own. Even with the limited number of spells I had left at my disposal paired with crippling fear, I found myself rushing forward to stand by him. A constant stream of magic flowing through me as I begged what magic I had to keep the warrior on his feet for just a moment longer. Enough for the defenders to strike a killing blow on the towering giant, as the two of us retreated from it's falling form.
The Yuan Ti made a return then, speaking of a "Dead Old Power", and that any fights against it would be towards the south. Folks seemed to believe that this meant the dracolich, and decided it was best not to take an offensive just yet. More than likely it would take a lot more men, perhaps even an army.
Taniko thanked me again later that day, presenting me with a blade of some kind. I imagine it holds some manner of value in his culture. With that, I'd like to think I made a difference, however small._
-
_Folk have begun to notice the disease spreading rampantly out south, while talk of Talonans and wererats continue to fuel the local gossip. I would first hear of the wererats from Horlamin during our trip down into the crypts. Apparently he has been seeking them out for a time now, to glimmer what information as to their part in the disease spreading.
The trip itself went well, with no loss of life. Vash and Horlamin holding the front lines, with Danika, Caelisar and myself as support. Caelisar’s a capable healer, being a priest of Lurue. eager to find his place among those of the Circle, and proving his worth more times than not during the venture.
We were soon joined by another group of adventurers, the Dwarf Mud, Daveth and one other swordsman I was not introduced to. We managed to clear several of the lower chambers before turning back towards the surface.
While resting back at the gates, Horlamin noted that someone had called down a pillar of flame during one of the previous battle. I merely suggested it could have been anyone else.
In my usual stupor by the gates, I was barely awake when a man stumbled into the firelight. From the way he was dressed, he belonged to some manner of knightly order, and by the way he had an arrow lodged in his back, more likely in need of help. Using what skill I had, I removed the arrow and saw to the most grievous of his wounds.
We were soon joined by folk returning from the south, once again some familiar faces, though there were those I did not recognize, a hooded fellow with a white cloak, and an elven woman of sorts. The injured man was with a caravan headed towards the direction of Jyidd, when they were set upon by bandits. The group quickly rushed off north, while I left the poor fellow with a meal, making sure he could make his way towards the temple on his own.
The burning wreckage of the caravan was found at the crossroads, the bandits revealing themselves to be Cyricists. I had thought to go around behind the trees and perhaps flank them, but the battle was long since over. We recovered the items from the caravan, though the group seemed to believe they deserved it as a reward for their deeds. I went along with the usual manner of distribution, recovering what I believed to be most important among the scattered equipment. Two sets of armor, one clearly of the Helmite order, and one magically enchanted, belonging to the Order of the Divine Shield, and several additional potions.
It was a long and hard trek back towards Norwick, being unused to such weights. I left the items with the good people at the temple, not wanting to disturb the man’s rest.
The next time I would arrive at the southern gates, the Talonans would make their presence known. A Lady of Disease stood in between two rather large and diseased bears, making for quite the intimidating sight. Folk were hardly in a negotiating mood, Belia and Bran taking a firm, if aggressive stance against their foul doings, even when reminded of the deal that had been brokered.
I didn’t feel the need to speak up or take part, sitting out of eyeshot. There were moments at which it would seem violence between the two sides would break out, but thankfully, the Talonan took her leave along with her two animals.
I was asked to help with Elidor, as he had gotten himself diseased during the talks, most likely due to his usual antics. Before I could respond, the hooded man with the white cloak offered to heal him with a spell. I took an ear lashing from the lady when I off-handedly noted that I wouldn’t want to involve myself with the Talonans any longer, healing their “blessings” being a really bad idea.
Bran took towards the Hobgoblin woods with Apollo, most probably to work out his usual anger issues. I joined them shortly while escorting a lady who wished to follow them. Clayton had apparently met up with them at some point as well. I’ve only known the fellow for a short time, but enough to know that he’s a fine woodsman, and a good shot with that bow of his.
I find these outings to be a welcome respite, just having to make sure people are alive and well, and not so much the fate of the entire realm. I exaggerate of course, all these troubles with the Talonans should be over and done with in time, now that folk are mindful and are beginning to take action._
-
_As Elidor was so kind to describe,
"They're always fighting."
And so we were, seated across from each other by the ruined gates. Soliel and I continued to argue on the events prior. Neither side letting up for a moment. My words were practiced, having mentally run through them ever since we last parted. All life is sacred. Hers were emotional, striking at the heart of the matter. An eye for an eye.
We were only interrupted when a commotion broke out back towards the direction of town. A man had been murdered, a child-beater named Jameson. Two arrows were all it took to bring him down. The guards were quick to clear up the scene, the one in charge named O'Connor. From what I could tell from the guard's conversations, the victim was hardly a liked individual, being a frequenter of the jail house. They were unclear as to how the event had transpired, the killer still on the loose. Our help was not required, and we were ushered off the scene.
Zarius began his own inquiry into the matter, heading towards the inn, thinking it the best place to start. In my view, his remaining son works the eastern fields, if I ever see the need to look into things.
I only hope this is a single occurrence and not one to be repeated again.
The mood was heavy back at the southern fires, the scene of the murder still fresh in everyone's minds. Soliel took to the company of Zarius and Mialee, leaving myself with my thoughts. So caught up in them, I failed to notice another bear walking through the now-gone gates. The bear's dead-eyes, the overwhelming stench hanging in the air. It's much like a second sense to me now, to recognize the signs of the Talonans out south, and this was clearly their handiwork.
The woods have been odd as of late, and perhaps that is an understatement. It is devoid of the usual sounds of wildlife one would expect, instead I've found the decaying bodies of the smaller critters on my walks. The larger of them, wolves and deers are sluggish and slow to respond. Until that moment, I had not thought to link the two events together.
Soliel thought to calm the beast with spell and word, but it continued to act aggressively, long having since lost it's mind to the disease ailing it. I backed away, simply because I thought they could deal with a single bear, or in truth, fear of the Guardian and what events may lead towards. Zarius peppered it with spells while Mialee and Soliel distracted it, it was over before it began, the body laying sprawled by the fires. The two ladies being closest moved over to inspect the corpse when it abruptly exploded, sending all manner of gory mess over them. It was crude, but an effective way to spread the disease, the two of them quickly succumbing to its effects.
The attack was hardly over as two more waves of diseased goblins charged through the open wall. The three of my companions breaking out of line to get out of their way. I should remind myself in future that these goblins seem to simply shrug off the effects of lightning, which was my cue to get out of there quickly. Rushing back towards the town, thinking to call on the aid of the guards, I looked back to watch the remaining goblins continue to fanatically give chase and attempt to kill the three.
I stood there, the moment dragged as I wrestled with my thoughts. Soliel was still out there, she was in danger. Calling upon the rest of my spells, I steeled myself for what was to come next. With my companion by my side, we charged into the remaining of the goblin number, tearing them apart ferociously. At the least, it would give the three a chance to regroup behind the walls.
Even without a third attack, my fears were realized, for a Lady of Disease had arrived to observe their blessing's latest handiwork. She smugly noted that there was no breach in the "agreement", that the goblins and animals were acting on their own volition. I warned the others not to harm her, the Guardian's warning still fresh in mind. At my suggestion that they move on towards other realms, she said they would, but only after their work is done.
After their work is done? I'm afraid there'll be nothing left by then. I had thought to leave this matter in the hands of established adventurers and forget about it all. Had my reluctance to take a stand resulted in the continued decay of these lands? The questions pounded at the back of my mind as the Talonan turned to leave.
I couldn't match Soliel's gaze as she rushed to my side, tending to my wounds, her caring voice reminiscent of better times we had shared. I silently dealt with those still diseased and wounded from the battle, a healer's instincts taking over when I had naught else to direct me.
Dear Gods, what do I do now?_
-
_I attempted to travel the deeper hobgoblin woods on my own. The trip did not end well, and I nearly caused the death of another wandering adventurer due to my foolishness. I had drawn the attention of a goblin way beyond my abilities, and in attempting to escape, led it straight into his path. I hadn't even notice his arrival as I dashed deeper into the woods, thinking to lose myself in the foliage. Realizing my mistake, I turned back, taking a form more suited towards combat.
Whoever the man was, he knew how to fight. Holding off not only the goblin, but a hobgoblin raider as well. While he felled the goblin, I tore into the hob's neck from the rear, it had no time to react. I had hoped to apologize, but he merely glared and walked off deeper into their territory.
As my talents begin to reveal themselves, so does the insistent whispering in the back of my mind grow louder, that I could possibly be something more. The truth is as plain as day, I'm naught but a fool.
I've matched strength with a grizzly today, suffice to say, I lost, rather miserably at that. Recalling the sheer size and bulk of it, perhaps it wasn't the smartest thing to do. In hindsight, there was much else I could have done, but my curiosity got the better of me. It knew from the way I held my form that I was no kin, my display of ferocity most probably taken as a joke. It was both a blessing and curse that Elidor would walk by, saving my life and ending the grizzly's. Those who came later did not think twice as they eyed the bear's still form. I will remember this day, being unable to save yet another life.
The gates were briefly accosted by goblins, Elidor, Cara and one other lady took to it's defenses, beating the goblins back until their lines eventually broke. As the group kept a wary eye towards the south for another impending attack, it gave me a chance to speak to Soliel once again, though she had nothing kind to share. No attack came after.
Her anger continues to rage, on the loss of her companion friend and that I would betray her in aiding her companion's killer. I've become much like a sandbag, taking another beating of several kicks from her steeled boot into my gut. Fortunately, nothing was broken, though the pain would linger for a time as a reminder.
I still remember what she cried as she ran off towards the glen. More than likely to find comfort in a certain elf's arms.
"I hate you."
I doubt she heard my reply, drowned out by the quickening of her running feet.
"I loved you."_