Tristan

Written by GreyNoton

Tristan el'Mer

Notes

  • Tristan carries a rubbing of runes in the language of giants. He showed it to me, but this is unfortuantely not my expertise.
    •  
  • A local greenest Wizard directed Tristan to Elturel to find a person named Morgan in regards to his runes.

Physical Description

Identifying Characteristics

Tall and sinewy, Tristan exudes a powerful presence that is strangely alluring. When not wearing his armor you see long, shock-white hair falling just above his mid back. This highlights his gaunt facial features and his grey skin tone in a rather stark contrast. Looking into his eyes is horrifying as you get lost in deep black pools, and yet you are unable to look away. When channeling eldritch power his eyes begin to glow. Many never see any of this though as Tristan frequently wears his armor and most often has his head and face covered.

A Shadar-Kai Warlock who has been wandering the Sword Coast in attempt to find his place, and himself, in Faerun.

View Character Profile
Species
Shadar-kai
Age
75
Children
Gender
male
Eyes
Black
Hair
Shock White
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
dull grey
Height
5'10"
Weight
185

The Journal Entry’s title

Begin writing your story here...

Of Temples, Tombs, and Secrets

After leaving the temple built by, or for, Trella we returned to Elturel briefly. Virgil commissioned an amateur adventuring group to go back to the temple to retrieve the Beholder in hopes of getting it stuffed. Why he wants such a grotesque looking thing as an adornment is quite beyond me.   Whilst there we received word from Leosin that the Harpers had spotted Varam the White near a particular stopping point in the Serpent Hills called Boersker’s Bridge along with the admonishment that time was of the essence.   So off we set. Finding out that Varam had indeed been in the area was not too difficult. It seems he had somehow managed to make himself somewhat of a hero to the locals. Conrad was able to pick up their tracks easily enough, and we began pursuit. Conrad also noted that another was following the cultists, which we surmised to be the Harper Agent we’d be told to look for.   When we found Crella’s camp, for that was her name, she was not in it. It looked as though she should be though. Conrad was able to pick up what was her most recent trail and it was not long before we found her. She had been snatched up by a small group of hill giants! This is the day I learned that hill giants hit HARD. It made me grateful we had managed to talk our way out of fighting whilst in the Floating Castle. Cloud Giants are reputed to be a great deal more powerful than Hill Giants, so I cannot imagine that would have gone well for us. In any event, we were able to vanquish these lesser giants and free Crella. We spent the night back at the camp she had previously set up.   In the morning Crella showed us where the cultists had gone – some sort of cave or temple or some such. Creepy would be the best way to describe it I think. Sprawled in front of the entrance was a dilapidated group of buildings, looking very old and in a terrible state of disrepair. We found an abandoned campsite belonging to the cultists with blood splattered everywhere, and several freshly dug graves. Unable to discern what had caused the mayhem we moved on toward the entrance. Some ancient magic at work within two large statues inquired as to what we sought. Nuri and I both replied in unison ‘wisdom’ and the statues seem satisfied with that. In we went.   The first bit of this incursion remains a bit fuzzy in my mind. Perhaps it was the constant buzzing in my head, no doubt the result of a failed magical spell, or perhaps it was the sheer amount of discordant information my eyes were seeing, or perhaps it was unbelievable nature of everything that happened, I really just cannot be sure. In short though, we were all assaulted by some sort of spell. All but Virgil managed to stave off the intrusion, but it turned him mad. He dashed further into what we now believed to be a temple or tomb dedicated to someone named Diderus, and in doing so managed to spring a magical trap that set loose a chimera made of floor tiles. With Virgil running about like a madman it took a bit to knock the chimera out, and its breath attack left several of the party in poor shape. Conrad was able to get Virgil to quit running amok and things settled for a few moments. Little did I know things would only get stranger as our quest to track down Varam the White and the white dragon mask continued.

Aberrations and Apparitions?

Here, deep in the earth, we found some sort of structure. Perhaps of Dwarven design, but undeniably impressive. Periodically fighting off more of the disgusting Troglodytes, some of whom were definitely more dangerous than their inferior kin we’d previously encountered (we even ran across one who wielded magic!), we largely cleared the interior of the building’s main level. There were two arcane powered lifts of some sort, along with a seemingly impassible door that sat at the base of a very steep slope.   Rhumor tried his best to get the door unlocked, but simply could not manage it. So, we decided to try the magically powered lifts. Choosing one more or less at random, we activated it, and it floated us in a downward sliding angle. Upon arriving at the lift’s destination the lift deactivated, and magic seemed to well, disappear. My cloak stopped its entrancing twinkle. The orb that had powered the lift went dark. Flame Tongue’s flames extinguished. Conrad sensed we were being watched.   Rhumor began fiddling with a locked and trapped door, he disabled the wicked trap, but it was barred shut as well. Just then a black oily substance began pouring out of the lift’s shaft! Virgil began ramming the door. I took cover under the alcove the door was in, and feeling my magic return I began sending blasts of eldritch force into the door. Virgil’s persistence paid off and the door gave way just enough for a few of us to slip in the next room. I teleported myself, and landed right next to an especially large and smelly Troglodyte. Immediately it attacked, but my cloak baffled it, and its attack missed wildly. The ensuing fight did not last long.   Once the proverbial dust had cleared, we found ourselves in what might be best described as a foyer. Statuary along the walls depicted mostly dwarves, but in the center… the center of the room was a resplendent statue of Trella! This depiction of her showed her to have aged compared to what we saw in Trella’s basement all those months ago. Of course, only Rhumor and I recognized it, but it was definitely her. What is this place? And why was Conrad’s colleague here. And how on earth did he even manage to get in? Did he also have a glowing stone in his chest? We all knew the answers would lie behind the ornate double doors that Trella was facing. So, we pushed on.   We found ourselves in what appeared to be a rather long and wide hallway… but no, not a hallway. These were prison cells. Rhumor and I moved forward bit by bit, watching, searching for traps with Virgils aid, and bit by bit we found many of Conrad’s lost colleagues. Not all were alive, and one was alive, but not… himself. We decided to lock him back up for our safety, as well as the safety of the recently freed captives.   Opposite the door we had entered from was another large ornate door. We steeled ourselves and went inside. Immediately we could feel that strange drain of magic as we entered the room. The cause? Well, it did not take long to figure out the source: A monstrous floating blob with what seemed like a thousand eyes. The many eyes waved and waggled from strange stalks protruding from its grotesque purplish body. One giant central eye was located on the bulbous form just over a wicked smile of razor teeth and slimy tongue. This entity was floating well above us, and fully out of reach of Virgil and I’s melee attacks. Without magic, what hope did we have? What aberration of creatures was this?!?!   It began conversing with Conrad, entreating him to give up the glowing stone that was lodged in his chest. Conrad refused and the creature railed. The central eye looked away as one of the eye stalks shot a wicked looking beam of force at Conrad. Instantly Conrad was on his knees, staring at death’s door. All from a single attack! Rhumor ran in and shot the evil thing, clearly doing some damage, but not enough to kill it, or even dissuade it. Just before Virgil and I could begin to start running forward neigh on the entire room was covered in brambles and our movements were hindered. Another eye stalk shot out, at Virgil this time, though I was unable to ascertain the effect it had. I focused and let loose eldritch force, though the effect seemed puny compared to what this monster had just inflicted upon poor Conrad.   The next thing I knew I heard Nuri chanting and I saw Virgil suddenly appear on top of the aberration, and he immediately began hacking away at it with Hazirawn. Blood and chunks of hide were flying this way and that as I continued to slog my way through the brambles. More eye beams – many focused on the now very dangerous Minotaur riding the creature, some at me, some at Nuri, they seemed to be everywhere, and not only coming from the floating mass above us. I looked back at Nuri imploring her to send me up above as well as I called upon the might of the giants and began leaping in my enlarged form. I easily grasped an eye stalk as I appeared atop the monstrous form which was just then blasting poor Virgil again, and I began hacking away. Flame Tongue bit deep, flames licking at this horrific looking slimy hide. Eye stalks turned toward me and began firing, energy sapping my vitality as our struggle continued. Distantly I heard Conrad chanting followed by the roar of a beast nearby. Virgil took another shot from an eye stalk and tumbled down to the floor. Hacking, slashing, and stabbing at the vile aberration I could feel the anger building for what this thing was doing to my friends… and as I was about to call upon the necrotic shroud of spirits granted to me by Her, I heard in my head a dissonance – not a painful one, but a dissonance against the anger, the anguish, the clashes of battle. At first I thought it to be the whispers from Her. But no, this voice, this voice was a melodious voice, radiant in timbre, whispering my name and saying ‘there is a better way, Tristan’. Confused, I felt a jolt, and out of the corner of my eye I saw the form of Rhumor, his magnificent bow still aimed at the monster’s central eye, through which he had just planted an arrow dead center. The aberration, with me still atop it, began to fall.   Coming back to my senses fully I managed to hop off the thing just before it hit the ground with a heavy squelching sound. Looking around at the carnage I saw scorch marks everywhere. Conrad had turned Nuri into a Giant Ape, which appeared to be fine at the moment, though as Conrad dropped the spell I could immediately see she had been taken to death’s doorstep as well. Rhumor, astonishingly, looked untouched. Virgil was down, Conrad’s broken and battered form had pieces of stone still sloughing off him after he had nearly been petrified, and was now leaning over Virgil’s scorched and charred body. I had taken a hit from the thing, but it had not been too bad for me thanks to my time in the Shadowfell, my companions had no such resilience against the awful necrotic effects.   As I surveyed the scenes playing out before me I once again heard my name being whispered, the voice soft and radiant, melodious and somehow even in harmony with itself… where was it coming from? As the voice whispered my name the blackish purple of Hazirawn became even darker, taking on an aura of evil. The magic Conrad poured over Virgil shone with a brilliance I had never noticed, and Flame Tongue seemed to flare at the whispering. I must meditate on this later. How many beings can speak into the mind of another, and with multiple tones all at once? Why had my blade flared, and why did Virgil’s take on such dark aura? While a little unnerved on account of the mysterious nature of the voice, I somehow felt… at peace whilst hearing it.

High in the Skies and Deep in the Ground

The death of Oblex came none too soon. Virgil and I were both in pretty rough shape when it finally melted away. Underneath thee disgusting ooze that remained was a curiously small box that was rigged up with a rather vicious looking trap. Rhumor managed to open it, though there was a brief moment when we heard more than a single click that I thought he was about to immolated. Among other things inside was a curious circlet that apparently grants the wearer superior intellectual capacities. We collectively decided this should go to Virgil.   It took us quite some time to get everyone awakened and safely back to the surface. We cleared out the remaining mimics from the town, and a very thorough interrogation (both magical and mundane) was performed on any remaining people to ensure all of the dopplegangers had been ousted. Our return journey to Hardbuckler was thankfully uneventful. I spent my time making some healing potions and meditating on how to best to communicate with my wyvern mount. It finally came to me, like a strange vision, not unlike the ones that led to me mastering the additional speed and finesse required to wield such a large weapon as the greatsword. Whether from my ancestral knowledge or some twisted gift from Her I find I can now speak directly with my wyvern mount. I have decided to name her Daphne. Being able to communicate with her directly has made it a great deal easier to develop trust, dare I even say a bond, and she more readily accepts direction from me now.   Back in town, Nuri was able to spend a bit of time with her grandparents, who insisted that they did not an escort back to Berdusk. And so we made our way towards the cave near Greenest where our adventure first began. Conrad wanted to further investigate the door we had found there, and believed another piece of this amulet, much like the one embedded in his chest, could be found on the other side of the door.   We stopped over in Elturel on our way, and were able to convince a young woman by the name of Liao Chai to join our merry band to watch over and care for our wyvern mounts anytime we were not traveling. This did require a fair amount of haggling with her current employer, and even with the young woman herself. I hope she is worth the price we pay her. She has been able to help some of the others more quickly grasp how to manage their mounts as well, which is good. The last thing we need is for one of us to be stung by one of our own wyverns! Nuri knows all too well how badly that hurts.   Inside the hatchery cave we found a great many goblin footprints, but no goblins. In the back, where the doorway was, we again had to battle more of those vile smelling troglodytes. Some of them were a great deal stronger than what we had previously encountered. Worse still, the Roper had taken up residence in the trash heap and did not seem interested in the food we brought this time. But we are seasoned warriors now. A cohesive team of battle-hardened fighters and mages. I believe Rhumor took the worst of it, though it did go after Nuri quite a bit as well. Every time Rhumor tried to run and hide, a new enemy would spring up next to him. Virgil and I initially focused on taking out the Roper, and then we were able to aid our allies in clearing out the remaining troglodytes.   Conrad’s touch activated the door. It was eerie. The door began to glow, and the fire in his chest intensified, even Ardor seemed to react somewhat violently to it. But, nothing bad happened… yet. We entered into a tunnel and immediately the door shut, and would not reopen. A little further down the tunnel we found a curious note, apparently left by one of Conrad’s old companions. It essentially implored us to kill ourselves to spare us the awaiting agony. What a pompous, arrogant, ass. Though, I suppose he would have had no way of knowing who would be following him in here. And… there is something… unnerving about these tunnels and caverns. Conrad believes we have entered the Underdark, though it does not look like any part of the Underdark I have ever been to. Though I never did delve very deep before.

Amorphisms

  We began our infiltration of the town of Leafside quite cautiously, using the heavy storm and cover of night to move about undetected. The first building we went into appeared to be empty, and seemed to have been such for quite some time, save for bed and a bit parchment and a book. Hoping to uncover some clues as to what is going on in this town, Nuri reached for the book, and was immediately attacked by the bed. Apparently nothing in this town is what it seems. I attacked the voracious bed-thing scoring substantial damage to it, and Virgil was able to finish it off. In death it melted into a puddle of amorphous goo. Neither the parchments nor the book were real. We were no better off now than when we entered the building. We decided to press onward the large building where the largest concentration of guards had been spotted.   As we made out way quietly through the town we spotted some guards around a short central tower. Perhaps used by the town’s guard as a single lookout point back when they actually allowed people in freely. Concerned that the guard at the top of the 3 story structure could sound a general alarm we decided to use deception and subterfuge as our allies. Nuri, now dressed as one of the guards from the gate, pretended to have captured me and the two of us walked into the tower. As she cunningly spoke to the guard on this lowest level she was able to ascertain how many of them were present as well as get the guard from the rooftop to come down without arousing any suspicions. We made quick work of them and then proceeded to our objective.   Once we arrived at the main building our ruse was up and we had to fight off the exterior guard forces. One of them escaped inside. Shortly thereafter a doppler imitating the form of Leafside’s mayor emerged, begging a truce and promised Nuri she could meet her father inside, but that she had to go in alone. We were all wary of a trap, but Nuri wished to try.   After about 10 minutes of waiting the rest of us could stand it no more. About that time a doppler opened the doors and spoke to the doppler who had been outside guarding us. They had no way of knowing that Conrad could read their lips of course. Conrad could not make out the entire conversation, but what he did “hear,” was enough. We all charged. After dispatching the exterior forces we began smashing the door, to little avail. I decided to take a different tact then, and began focusing my energies at a single point in the wood portion of the reinforced door, to create a small hole. Once we could see through, Andor teleported all of us inside. We were immediately attacked by the foes waiting in ambush. Fortunately, it did not take long for us to dispatch these foes either. Between my enlarged size, Virgil’s sheer rage at these dopplegangers having taken Nuri, deft shots from Rhumor, and fire magic from Conrad the dopplers did not have a hope.   Conrad then cast a spell to locate our missing friend. We began moving quickly, hoping to catch up to her and her abductors. We did not know exactly where they were taking her, but Conrad had caught something about them taking her “below”. So, down we went, winding through halls and stairwells. We eventually made it to an area that had prison cells. Inside one of them was a woman who claimed to be Nuri’s grandmother. Fully convinced we were about to free her, I eagerly began working the door to try and facilitate the rescue. To my great shame and dismay, I’d been duped. The others realized the ruse where I did not. A fight ensued and I began to become aware of my foolishness. As we attacked the thing that was pretending to be Nuri’s grandmother we noticed a tendril-like appendage that snaked from the imposter through a crack in the floor. Before we fully killed whatever it was, the entire façade turned into just a tendril and slipped through the crack, escaping.   From there we refocused our efforts on finding Nuri. There did not appear to be a logical path forward though. I began investigating, as did Virgil. Eureeka! A hidden door. Continuing down the path and more stairs with all haste we found ourselves in an underground cavern. It smelled of decay and sulfur. Each of us on extra high alert now, unsure of what we were going to find down here, we spotted Nuri being carried off by two dopplers. It was Aenor’s Rest all over again!   In we rushed, cutting down her captors with ease. With Nuri safely back in our group we began to take stock of our situation. This cavern had a couple of different paths forward. One of the paths had a giant X effectively engraved into the ground. The other was filled with water and a strange algae like plant covered the entirety of the floor wherever there was water. Mostly shallow, but some deeper areas as well.   I am unsure if the plant-like things in the water were actually sentient, but they actively reached out for anyone who entered the water, and seemed to be able to render the individual unconscious. We were somewhat stuck. Someone, I cannot recall who… perhaps Conrad, perhaps Rhumor, noted the presence of the strange leather armor we had seen dispersed through various parts of the cavern. We had paid it little mind before because, well, all of had much better armor, and this armor had been rubbed in a viscous liquid that really made no sense in terms of caring for the armor. We decided to to see what happened if we put the armor in the water. The plants recoiled – only directly around the armor though. It was meant to be worn as one walked about in the water. Great. Doing this would leave our Minotaur, and myself very vulnerable to attacks. But, we did not have much of a choice. We stripped off our armor and donned the strange leather.   A little deeper into the tunnels we came across a horrific and macabre sight. Hundreds of people, all laying face up in water just deep enough for them to be able to breathe. All of them unconscious. All of them looking to be in various stages of poor health. Then Nuri spotted her grandparents. Virgil tried to pick one of them up, but in doing so he accidentally touched some of the plants, and fell down. We rolled him over onto his back, and Rhumor and Conrad began dragging him out toward the bank. I picked up Nuri’s grandfather and carried him to the bank. I then returned and retrieved Nuri’s grandmother.   Both were confused, and disoriented, and unable to provide us with any truly helpful information. We took them back to the surface and to our gnomish guide and instructed the three of them to get back to Hardbuckler as quickly as possible while we delved deeper to find out of the source of this vile scene.   It was not long before we came to an enormously wide open grotto that was deep under ground. A single ray of light came in from the impossibly high ceiling. Before us was a grotesque creature. I have never seen its like before. A giant amorphous oozing thing with many tendrils. At the end of some of the tendrils were facsimiles of humanoid creatures. There were also a couple of actual dopplegangers standing in front of the hideous monster. It was intelligent. Apparently very intelligent. Nuri and the creature conversed for sometime, as it admitted its reason for wanting Nuri’s grandparents, and then Nuri herself. Evidently some years back this thing had met Nuri’s father, and had found him to be most interesting – full of memories. And that is what this creature craved: memories. It fed on memories. It had hoped to lure Nuri’s father back by capturing his parents, and when that did not work, his daughter. We also learned that this creature is called an Oblex. This particular creature was an Elder Oblex, having lived far longer than most of its kind, and it had grown quite powerful. It’s offer to “allow” the townsfolk (and likely us!) to live a ‘dream like state’ was clearly not an option – and so we fought.   This time I was not fooled by its charms. I called forth the might of the giants, growing in size to further resist any physical attacks this monstrosity might throw my way, and I called upon the radiant spirits to surround me -and then began to lay waste to the creature directly, ignoring its tentacles. Virgil began hacking away at with the deadly Haziwran, and Rhumor was firing from… well, somewhere, taking out the feeble dopplegangers that foolishly sought to aid this vile thing. Nuri blessed Virgil and I with inhuman speed, which was followed by Conrad turning Nuri into an absolutely massive dinosaur! Before the huge Dinosaur/Nuri even had a chance to sink its teeth and claws into anything though, Virgil executed a brilliant series of four attacks that eviscerated the creature, which then simply melted into a puddle of ooze.   Following short but very vicious battle with the Oblex we cleared the rest of the cavern and the town of dopplegangers and mimics, and rescued the remaining townsfolk that were not too far gone. Leafside is now safe again, for the first time in a very long time it would seem. All thanks to Nuri’s courage and determination to save her grandparents, and the help of the rest of the Scalebreakers. We truly are becoming a force to be reckoned with. I just hope that it is enough to break the spine of the evil Cult of the Dragon, and to rescue Virgil and Conrad’s friends…

Doppler DupliCity

Faerun is such a strange place. After the Council of Waterdeep meeting we spent a few more days in Waterdeep while we waiting for the magical items commissioned by Nuri and Virgil. I spent my time brewing potions to be better prepared for the trials ahead. I understand that Rhumor spent his time working with his wyvern mount. I suspect we will all wish at some point we had spent more of our free time with them. I know I certainly need to. Perhaps when we get back to Waterdeep I will spend some time with mine to better my understanding of the marvelous creature. I wish I could figure out a way to actually communicate with it… this is something I shall meditate on.   The trip to Hardbuckler was fairly uneventful. I ended up spending my evenings making jewelry, and sewing some of the marvelously large canine drake fangs I previously harvested into Conrad’s hide armor. I managed to stitch 3 of them into each shoulder, creating a splendid look. Conrad now looks a little less like a book worm, and a little more like the warrior he truly is at heart.   At the town we met a gnomish ranger who we hired to guide us through the forest. Before we left town though we discovered that the inn keeper had been replaced by a doppelganger. I suppose we should not have been surprised by this. We were able to prevent it from getting away, though it is entirely possible that it could have sent word to someone else. The journey through the woods was largely uneventful, though Rhumor did inadvertently draw the attention of some shadowy creatures that nearly took him out before we could arrive to help. By the time I arrived the rest of the group had managed to completely wipe them out. This bizarre event did provide us with a few strange clues though. The site in which the attack occurred appears to have been where four townsfolk from Hardbuckler had committed suicide after seeing something they could not live with. What that was exactly we have no idea, but I cannot help but wonder if it is connected to the doppelganger presence. Perhaps they saw a loved one replaced and could not live with the implications of such betrayal of trust.   Upon reaching our destination in the Dark Wood, a village nestled into the hillside, thick with huge trees, rocky boulders, and overgrown brush, we found the place crawling with guards. Very unfriendly guards who refused to let us speak to anyone about trying to re-establish trade with the town – even after Nuri’s rather impressive persuasive arguments. Nothing fishy about that at all. The four guards at the front gate paid for the hubris and obstinance with their lives, save one whom we will be interrogating. It is unlikely we get anything from it, for yes, it too was a doppelganger, but we must try. This is important to Nuri, so if we must wipe out every doppler here, then it shall be done.

Faces, Masks, and Catnip

Leaving the warehouse our little group was looking pretty ragged. We were all looking forward to a bath and a good chunk of time to rest and rejuvenate. It was not meant to be.   As we made our way through the streets we were unexpectedly accosted by members of the Cult of the Dragon. A robed figure, wearing a green dragon cult mask, demanded we hand over the black dragon mask of Rezmir. This figure was arrayed differently than anything we had seen from the cultist before, and was accompanied by a contingent of the Dragon Wings and some archers. When we refused his demand they attacked us. Two of the dragon wings went straight for me and in no time at all everything went black-just for a moment. When I came to I could see Virgil beside me unconscious – I immediately poured a potion of healing down his throat. In the following moments everything seemed so very jumbled… Conrad and his fire spirit jumping around, swords swinging, including at me again, Rhumor racing about the street and then vanishing out sight, until I saw Nuri grab her precious earring as she called to all of us to come to her. Just as we all reached out to grab ahold of her *POOF*. Nuri, Conrad, Virgil, and myself all vanished and reappeared in the Blackstar (to a very startled Gimlet!). Shortly thereafter Rhumor joined us, and reported what he’d managed to overhear after our sudden departure. I informed the Blackstar’s proprietor, Asira, that we were being hunted by the cultists so the Inn would not be caught unawares if they tracked us here. She called for City Guard, who appeared outside the Blackstar a short time later. Feeling reasonably safe, we all settled in to try to rest for the night. While many of my companions experienced restless sleep, we were not disturbed further, and the morning came feeling rejuvenated, if a bit sore from the sound thrashing we had all received.   We discussed how we wanted to proceed before leaving the Blackstar, now cognizant of the fact that a powerful band of cultists was in the City and actively hunting us down. We knew there was a little more shopping to be done, including a way to counteract the very powerful poison spell that had apparently taken Virgil down and we still needed to make the exchange with Sand. We went to go see Sand first.   The exchange went without incident and Sand even offered the possibility of future contract employment with him from time to time, as well as offering up some information he’d heard about the where the cultists that attacked us were staying in Waterdeep. The Tabaxi appears to be very well connected, and very well informed…   Leaving Sand’s we accompanied Rhumor to pick up a variety of specialty arrows and then went back to Blackstar for a late lunch, a chance to discuss precisely how to handle the cultists, and to give me time to perform my binding ritual with Flametongue. From there we set out to procure some protection from poisons, and set about the business of spreading the news that we would be leaving the City by boat tonight.   The plan worked brilliantly. As the cultists made their rushed entrance to the docks area that we had set up in, we struck fiercely and decisively. Before the cultists even knew what hit them only one archer and one strangely dressed individual remained conscious. Those two both began to run. I leapt onto the roof of the building next to the fleeing stranger and then back down into the alley to cut off her escape, knocking her unconscious with a flurry of heavy blows from the hilt of my blade. We tied and gagged the red headed stranger along with the green-masked cultist and took them to Boggles for interrogation.   The cultist was reticent to share any information, but that did not really matter since Virgil was able to read his mind. We extracted what we could from him, and then turned him over to the Harpers. The red headed woman turned out to be a mercenary – more specifically a member of the Bounty Hunters Guild here in Waterdeep. We released her with a stern warning, and with payment of her splendid looking crossbow as a gift to Nuri. She also provided us with token of the Guild as proof that they now owe a debt to the Scalebreakers.   With the immediate threat of the cultists in Waterdeep being removed, we rested more soundly that night. The morning brought Leosin message as to where and when to meet him. Leosin himself was not allowed to join this meeting, which had been set with many of the most influential people along this portion of the Sword Coast. Representatives of Waterdeep, Baldur’s Gate, the Emerald Enclave, the Harpers, the Order of the Gauntlet, as well as a few other individuals whose positions were… less clear… were all in attendance. We were asked to provide details of our various experiences and accomplishments. Some of these pleased some members, while irritating others. Clearly politics will be at work within this ad hoc Council. We were also provided with some additional information while there. The Harpers believe they have located where the wearer of purple is who possesses the green dragon mask. There was also mention of a powerful female tiefling mage that has tremendous knowledge about dragons that went missing some time ago in the far north – and it is believed she could provide invaluable knowledge about cult and chromatic dragon activities.   We decided our first order of business though would be to aid our companion Nuri in rescuing her grandparents. From there we should be reasonably close to some of the clues that Conrad received about his missing professor and friends from the dig site. This might also provide an opportunity to learn more about the location of, or how to get to, where Virgil’s friend Whistler is. Lastly, it would leave us fairly close to the Serpent Hills, where the green dragon mask is believed to be. With so much on the horizon I expect we will need to stock up on supplies before leaving town. Our time here has been nice, though perhaps a bit short-lived, such is the life of an adventurer I suppose.

City of Splinters

I know that every city has its problems. There is no such thing as the perfect place. They all will have some form or another of issue, be it crime, greedy nobles, or simply being marred by the machinations of a few power hungry narcissists. Even knowing this, seeing the underbelly of Waterdeep came as quite a shock to me. Along the Sword the Coast those free cities that have outlawed slavery proudly proclaim their stance of the vile practice. Having the freedom to make choices for oneself is why I left the directed service of the Raven Queen, and so to see slaves in the free city of Waterdeep came as a shock, and set a fire deep within me.   After we completed the task for the Tymorans, Rhumor was formally admitted into their Order, and he seems to be quite pleased. I am uncertain how I feel about a god who is dedicated to randomness in the extremes, but to each their own I suppose.   We then met up with Conrad, along with several of the staff from the University. They were most curious to hear what Conrad had uncovered and had news of their own to share. Quite a bit had been discovered through research about the demi-plane that Lomis the Lich inhabits, which is also the likely location now of Virgil’s friend Whistler. They also have surmised that the strange thing in Conrad’s chest is but a piece of a larger whole that opens a portal to this other demi-plane. What a terrifying thought that must be for him! What happens if the other pieces are found and activated? Does he die? Does he lose his newfound power? Does he grow immensely in power? Perhaps nothing changes at all? Conrad has been instrumental in our endeavors thus far, and I do find myself experiencing a twinge in my gut when I think of the consequences of the shards being united to open the portal. ….and that’s before I even consider that an open portal means the Lich could get out! Because dragons running amuck is not enough.   After leaving the University, with Conrad in tow this time, we returned to Blackstar to plan out the next few days leading up to the meeting we have to attend with Leosin. The group was kind enough to consider how we might, ehm, procure, the Flametongue greatsword. This was a rather heated debate amongst us in terms of how to approach it. Most surprising was that Rhumor was the least enthusiastic about simply slipping in and taking it. Eventually Nuri simply got up and left saying she was going to gather more information. When she returned she had found out that the man who bought it was not actually a noble, but a broker purchasing on behalf of a local noble – a rather eccentric tabaxi named Sand, to be more precise. The decision was made to approach Sand and ask for an exchange, or perhaps a loan in exchange for the fame that would accompany the sword’s history should it be wielded by one of the Scalebreakers.   The noble did, in fact, turn out to be eccentric. After a lengthy diatribe about the history of nearly everything in his substantial collection, he eventually offered an exchange. He wanted us to retrieve a chest that had been allegedly stolen from him. He even knew where to find it. If it was his property, and he knew where it was, why not simply go to the authorities? In any event, we agreed. One of his guards took us to the location where the pilfered chest was stored – a warehouse in the dock district.   Rhumor, Conrad, and I stayed near the warehouse to scope things out, get a sense of any schedules, rhythms, guards, etc. The rest of the group headed back to the Blackstar. They were supposed to come meet us again later that night. Unfortunately, certain events began to unfold that derailed that plan. As Rhumor and I were observing the rather well guarded warehouse, they brought in a wagon containing slaves. Even child slaves. The wagonload of slaves was quickly unloaded and shuffled into the warehouse. I tried to get my familiars into the door to get a sense of what was going on, but a guard immediately shot my one cat, and squished the three others, spiders all. Talk about razor sharp eye sight! As I was contemplating how to proceed from there, a different group of slaves was loaded onto the wagon, and headed away from the warehouse. I couldn’t take it anymore. I abhor slavery. Its why I left the Raven Queen’s service in the first place. Even more so when children are involved. I followed the wagon until it was well out of sight and ear shot of the warehouse, and then made my move. I had carefully planned to simply kill the driver in one swift stroke from behind, but a large rut in the road jolted the cart and my initial strike missed. Still, it did not take long to end the wretched man. Local onlookers began to ask questions, and I pointed them to the newly freed slaves and bid them to help out the unfortunate souls I’d just freed. I then slipped away into the darkness to make my way back to the warehouse.   What I found was disastrous. Rhumor had made his move while I was gone, and Conrad had rushed off to find the rest of our team to bring them to aid. I had to rush in madly to reach the first group of guards that were firing shots at Rhumor, who had run down the far street from my position. In the end we killed all of the guards, but at a heavy cost to my resources. Given how few scratches Rhumor had, perhaps I was a bit hasty in my mad dash to aid him. About this time the rest of the team arrived. With no way to see into the warehouse, Virgil simply began charging the door, eventually shattering whatever was holding it in place, and the fight commenced once again. Inside the warehouse were many more guards, accompanied by a mage of not insignificant power. His fireball was a painful reminder of the dangers of magic users. With Nuri, Rhumor, and Conrad all somewhat nearby, I rushed into the largest concentration of guards and began attacking with abandon, hoping to keep half of them occupied and prevent everyone from concentrating their attacks on Virgil. The tactic worked, a little too well really. I took several nasty hits, and finally had to retreat to a covered corner of the warehouse. The two that followed me eventually landed enough lucky strikes to knock me out.   Visions of Her began to form in my mind’s eye again. That gripping fear. The loathing, the terror, the angst. This time was a little different than the last though. She looked at me as though she were amused. A wry, secret little smile curled on her lips. Not knowing what that meant exactly was almost worse than seeing her angry. But then, a series of familiar faces began to slowly march by me, the guards I had just finished sending to her domain… I opened my mouth to speak and then suddenly I was back in the warehouse. As I think back on this, now with a clearer mind, I am beginning to realize that even though I have made the choice to not fulfill her directly will, by living the life of an adventurer, I am still fulfilling her general directive. At least this way I get to decide who least deserves to stay in this plane… or do I?   I felt terrible. Somewhat stunned, completely spent, and exhausted. Nevertheless, I began to look around, feebly. I do not recall much of what happened in the next few minutes. The rest of the team was looking over the place, and interrogating a last single guard, who turned out to be a mercenary, to find out more information. I now know that we freed the last of the slaves in the building, found out from the mercenary that the slaves were being forced to dig a tunnel that would connect to Undermountain, and that the City Guard showed up not long after we learned all of this, and just after Conrad had slipped the quarry of our mission-Sand’s chest-into the bag of endless depths. Battered and bruised, I stumbled out of the warehouse as the City Guard cordoned off the area.

The City of Splendors

At long last. We finally made it back to Waterdeep. Though it has only been a few weeks since we passed through here, it feels as though it was ages ago. I finally get to enjoy the City of Splendors!   Upon sighting the city we landed just outside of the northern gate to stable our new flying mounts. Most fortuitously we quickly were able to locate a stable that had suitable stables for the wyverns and we gladly paid the stablemaster Elias to house all 3 of the mounts. The associated inn, called Bramkis was run by Bram, a most cordial fellow. It was to him that we first introduced ourselves as The Scalebreakers.   Scalebreakers. We have a name. The first time I was in Waterdeep, which was less a year ago, I was on my own. Not too far removed from my recent employment with Bregan D’aerthe in Luskan, I knew no one south of Luskan. I’ve now shared untold adventures and dangers with my unusual group of companions. We have formed bonds, the nature of which I am uncertain I fully understand. Such a disparate group of people, whose origins span much of the Sword Coast, and even into other planes of existence. Yet, here we are, together still. We largely succeeded in the task presented to us all those weeks ago, even exceeding our mandate and not only tracking the treasure, but taking it away from the Cult altogether, and by eliminating some of their leadership. Through all of that we have come and feel tied together enough to identify ourselves not as individuals, but as a unified group: The Scalebreakers.   Without the wyverns carrying the load now our first order of business was to drop off the enormous white dragon’s head we were now carrying around with a taxidermist in town. Conrad ran off for the University while the rest of us headed to the shop. During the walk to the shop Nuri and Rhumor managed to spread the great name of the Scalebreakers so well that before long people were whispering it before we had even made it to them. I suppose the saying is true… rumors spread like wildfire!   Once that bit of business was out of the way I was thrilled to finally return to Boggles to see if they had managed to procure a greatsword suitable for my purposes. Upon inquiring within and receiving a rather nervous answer that nothing had been located, it seemed something was… off. When I pressed the gentleman behind the counter he insisted nothing was amiss. But, catching on, Nuri and Rhumor took note of my suspicion, and when pressed by Nuri and Rhumor’s very convincing methods, the man behind the counter revealed he had just sold a Flametongue to a nobleman who was a collector not 2 hours earlier. Apparently this Harper run shop lacks considerable integrity, which somewhat dampens my view of this organization. I must remember this group I have pledged myself to is not entirely trustworthy. He did return my deposit though and we left the shop.   The remainder of our shopping endeavors that evening were also rather disappointing. The few merchants we had time to visit before the markets closed lacked what we were looking for, or in a few cases were asking more than we felt we could afford. Needing to find lodgings for the night and knowing the amount of coin we were currently carrying around I was reminded of a inn that I had done some brief work for as a laborer when I passed through Waterdeep heading south all those months ago: The Blackstar. It had a reputation for being one of the safest places in the city and was quite luxurious on the inside. We rented 3 rooms for the night. Luxurious really is an apt description for the place. After checking in we were offered delectable treats, superb wine, and fabulously appointed rooms on the top floor. Whist the rest of the team went off to their respective rooms I opened a marvelous bottle of cabernet sauvignon and sat on the balcony to watch the sunset. The plush chair I lounged in such a far cry from the many days and nights spend on mud, dirt, rock, and stone surfaces. City of Splendors indeed. Lounging in this chair and sipping the splendid wine I simply knew that tomorrow would be a better day.   We spent the night carousing a bit with a dwarven hunting party we’d met at the taxidermist, and were met by Leosin during that time, informing us that we would be called in for a debriefing sometime in the next few days.   The next morning we turned to matters that were heavy on Rhumor’s heart: The Tower of Luck. As we walked the streets toward the tower I mulled over the other concerns various members of our little band would be ruminating over. Nuri would be anxious to search for her grandparents. I suspect time to be of essence in that endeavor, and it may well be the first order of business for us when we leave Waterdeep again. Likewise Virgil would be concerned with locating his friend, though at least she was in a location of her choosing, however unpleasant it may be. Locating her may be a most difficult task. Conrad would also be consumed with finding his old mentor and companions from the dig site. Perhaps more news will be waiting for him at the University. Perhaps least of these concerns is my search for the remnants of Caste Kurrus-tay in the Sword Mountains. Once again my mind drifting to the Castle Naertyr and the potential benefits of spending some time in the observatory. That journey should be must quicker given our new mode of transportation – we could fly right into the castle!   Upon arriving at the tower we met with both the priest we had saved as well as their high priestess. As proof of Rhumor’s sincere desire and worthiness to join their order, the high priestess tasked us with clearing out a defiled crypt that was beneath the tower. This was to be done at dusk this same evening.   This left us with enough time to try and do some more shopping. Sadly I was not able to locate a sword that really spoke to me, though a couple of potential options were presented… perhaps I will look at them again another time. Or perhaps I will consider commissioning some improvement to my half plate armor. I did speak to a master armorer who could do such a thing, and even would be capable of crafting half plate out of adamantine. We did find some very interesting items whilst going from shop to shop though. Nuri and Virgil both commissioned some specialty items, and we ran across a truly wonderous cloak of displacement. Despite my hesitation at the exorbitant cost, my compatriots insisted we buy this cloak for me to wear. I feel pangs of guilt at the cost, but it is a marvel I must say. Even without casting my mirror images, it is like having a double next to me at all times – I am just very difficult to place accurately for anyone trying to attack me.   Nearing the end of the day we headed back to the Blackstar to take a bit of respite, take part of light meal, and examine our new purchases more thoroughly before heading back to the Tower of Luck. Upon arriving at the tower the priest joined us in heading down to the crypt. Rhumor deftly disabled some traps as we made our way into the main chamber. We were greeted with a vengeful Revenant, angry with the Tymorans for allowing his crypt to be defiled. He called upon ghasts, wights, and skeletons to aid him in the fight and Virgil and I quickly had our hands full right at the entrance of the main chamber, and with some many creatures attacking us, I was doubly grateful for my new cloak as it duped my enemies time and again into attacking the air next to me.   It was then that the spellcasters began to shine. Nuri threw out a violent electrical storm that hampered their movement and sent shocks of lighting arcing out. The priest threw up spirit guardians who wailed away on any who drew too close. Rhumor used his newfound piety to force some of the undead creatures to flee in terror. The Revenant repeatedly tried to assail me with some unknown force, attempting to break my will in some insidious way, but I was fortunate enough to repel whatever it was. When the ghostly knight finally got close enough Virgil and I began to crush him under combined blows of our greatswords, with Virgil pushing through his exhaustion to deliver the final fatal blow. Watching that tremendous blade he now wields I marvel at its power. A fitting weapon for a warrior of his skill. I wonder if She is watching on in pleasure….

The Journal Entry’s title

Begin writing your story here...

The Ice is on Fire

The calm and scenic view I write this from is such a welcome change. Nestled in the wide valley created by the rising Crags to the North, the Surbrin Hills to the East, and the Starmetal Hills to the West, I can just make out where the edge of the Neverwinter Wood peeks through the two hills off north and west. We camped just a bit outside of Longsaddle and I am spending the remainder of my evening sipping on a lovely fall blackberry wine now that I have completed the engraving rituals.   Yes, I finally learned the secret of the runes. Blogothkus revealed to me their meaning and how to use them just before we went off to fight the dragon. Of course there was not time to actually implement that knowledge before the fight, as it requires some time to engrave the runes properly. I began with the Fire Rune, as it appeared to be the easier of the two to actually engrave. I decided to see if I could perform it on my eldritch blade. I was surprised as how easily the blade took the rune engraving, almost as though it drank in the etchings I was making with my tools. Once completed I invoked the rune and watched as the faint purple eldritch glow of the blade now interplayed with new fire red rune glowing near the hilt. The Cloud Rune, being largely one of protection, I decided to engrave into my armor directly. To my surprise this work was far easier to do than the first. My tools’ movements were quick and precise, more akin to a true expert artisan’s than work I had done previously. Just inside my peripheral vision I could see a pulsing glow from the Fire Rune in my blade as I etched with the smith’s tools into my armor. How fascinating! Intrigued by this unexpected benefit of the Fire Rune, I pulled out my jeweler’s tools to see if the same thing would occur. Sure enough, my fingers deftly handled the intricate work with increased artistry as the Fire Rune lightly pulsed. Simply marvelous!   Well, I suppose I should backtrack some to explain how we ended up in a picturesque valley with enough peace and tranquility that I could be sipping on blackberry wine in the first place.   After defeating Rezmir and her minions, we made our way back to Blogothkus. We had to fight through more cultists, and even a few ogres who were either magically charmed by the cult, or who had foolishly believed they were better off with the cult than with the Giants.   Blogothkus was pleased with our progress, but cross that we had not yet killed the dragon. We took just enough time to take a quick meal in the giant guest room, which we had to provide for ourselves – it seems the giants’ hospitality had worn thin. I had just enough time during this meal to truly examine the powerful greatsword Rezmir had wielded. Once I had been holding it long enough and studied the runes on it sufficiently, I tried to bind to it. The sword began to speak to me telepathically, refusing to be bound in a Pact. Damn. Stupid sentient swords. Well, I still managed to learn its secrets, and access its magics, though clearly this blade and I will not get along well. I placed it in the scabbard on my back, and resummoned my pact blade. It was time. Time to face the dragon. And so we went: down, down, down we went into the belly of this floating castle. The dragon’s lair was larger than I expected, but fortunately the effects of the potion of growth I had consumed just before our battle with Rezmir had not yet worn off. Nuri magically enhanced the speed and agility of Virgil and me, and I called forth the radiant shroud of spirits to empower my blade in preparation. Rhumor opened up with a smashing hit against the dragon. In response a freezing cold cloudy mist appeared where Virgil and I stood. Shocked at how quickly the dragon had reacted, I instinctively threw up my mirror images and backed up out of the frozen cloud. From there the fight went about as we expected it to… with a few surprises. Not long after Virgil and I engaged the dragon it let loose its horrific breath of freezing cold wind and ice. Even protected as we were the attack was devastating. Then Conrad popped out from the tunnel and turned Virgil into a giant ape! Now we had two enormous sized fighters attacking this huge dragon! We pincered it, landing blow after blow. Rhumor continued to pepper it with arrows, and Nuri and Conrad supporting us from just outside of the great monster’s reach. As Virgil made the killing blow I watched the enormous white mass collapse to the icy floor.   The lair was filled with treasure, much of which was buried beneath a layer of ice, some even frozen into the walls. Conrad began the work of melting the ice, while Rhumor and Nuri and Virgil began sorting through and getting as much of the most valuable loot as they could into the packs and bags. I began beheading the beast – those horns, teeth, and scales could be very useful later. About that time the entire castle began to list…badly. Something was wrong, very, very wrong.   Running back up topside to figure out what was happening a sad story unfolded before us. This giant flying castle made of ice was on fire. Apparently the cult had sent reinforcements while we battled the dragon and had attacked Blogothkus and his men. It did not appear that any had survived. We thought to try and regain control of the castle, to prevent it from crashing, but not knowing where the control room was made that plan difficult. Searching for a beacon of magic that might be the control tower using a spell did not help – the entire castle was magical. Then I tried detecting the thoughts of the one who guided the castle – Blogothkus’ deceased wife. To my surprise it was Blogothkus spirit’s thoughts I found instead. His death must have forced her spirit from the castle, and the spirit of Blogothkus was furious – and was now actively directing the castle to crash itself. It was clear there would be no reasoning with the enraged spirit.   We ran to the wyvern stables and made our getaway using the last three remaining wyverns. We circled long enough to get our bearings, watch the castle crash into the Sword Mountains like some meteor falling from the sky, and made the decision that it would be best to return to Waterdeep. Our first stop to make camp on that journey would be just north of Longsaddle. From my time in Luskan I’d heard tale of the folk of Longsaddle, and it seemed a reasonably safe area to stop, and was within reach of the travel distance of our wyvern mounts. Wyvern mounts. What a splendid thing. We shall have to better learn how to care for and control these beasts. They make a truly great way to travel that is both fun and efficient. Perhaps Conrad can give us all pointers and instruction. If nothing else we have a few days of traveling with them to get to know them better, and for them to get to know us better.   And so, here I sit, just north of Longsaddle, admiring the picturesque views, sipping this lovely wine, recounting the events of the past day and contemplating all of the ways I might use this new boon to my craftsmanship. Periodically I would look over at the mighty sentient greatsword, which I had handed over to Virgil, and lament that the sentient blade could never be mine. Then I would recall the shop in Waterdeep that I had left a substantial amount of gold with to hold a mighty weapon in reserve for me should they acquire one. With any luck, they will have found something suitable… and with a little more luck it will not be outside of my financial means.   I also must now ponder the fact that while the master of Skyreach was, in fact, a Cloud Giant, and was able to help me understand how the runes work… this was not the castle from which the runes came. Blogothkus knew not exactly where the castle would be, but said it was rumored to have crashed into the Sword Mountains-this aligns with the little lore than the wizard Isaac Burrows in Baldur’s Gate had shared. The masters of that castle were the Kurrus-tay family, who were evidently both powerful and wealthy. I believe it might be worth trying to find the castle. The how of that of course… that is another matter. The fact that I discovered broken pieces of their castle in the catacombs under Luskan could mean any number of things. Perhaps it was attacked, and these pieces fell to the ground far from where the castle crashed. Or, perhaps someone discovered it already and carried these pieces off. Perhaps a survivor of the castle took them before the castle fell, and somehow they made their way to Luskan…. I wonder if that ridiculously fragile and fancy telescope in Naertyr would be able to locate the Kurrus-tay castle? That might be worth making a return trip for. I am sure Nuri would be thrilled to see her lizardfolk friends again and it may aid us in more precisely locating Virgil’s lost friend if it can also peer into other realms. With my newly enhanced skill with tools I would likely have a much better chance of using the thing successfully.

Castle in the Sky, I Can Fly Twice as High

Skyreach Castle. We made it. I still can’t really believe I am here. The one place I most wanted to go to, and my journey in tracking down the Cult of the Dragon has led me to that very place. Perhaps the gods do take an interest in mortal affairs after all.   Thus far things have gone better than I could have hoped. We met with the master of the castle, the Cloud Giant Blogothkus, who was indeed unhappy with the tenuous alliance he’d formed with the Cult. Blogothkus agreed to order his ogres and giant-kin to refrain from attacking us, but made it clear it would be up to us to clear the castle of the Cult’s presence – at least the leadership, and of course the dragon.   He also agreed to provide a place for us to rest safely, which was desperately needed, and provided information about the whereabouts of the various Cult leaders and allies.   We took on the vampire Morgia first, before even heading to our room for sleep. One of the biggest problems in fighting the vampire revolved around its bizarre location at the top of a tower that was in such sorry state as to make it quite difficult to even get to the vampire’s lair. The other difficulty of course lay in defeating the vampire in such a way that it did not die and would answer Virgil’s questions about his missing friend. We did manage it, but it was a difficult battle. Rhumor took a fall from the tower balcony that I was certain would kill him, I cannot imagine how he survived, but he did. Conrad darted all over the place trying to avoid getting slashed to pieces by the vampire’s thralls. Nuri ended up being charmed by the vampire. Virgil and I just kept hitting things until they either died or acquiesced. The key to getting a vampire to talk is apparently to hold it in the sunlight until its skin nearly melts off completely. A rather grotesque but effective strategy.   After our successful vampire vanquishing mission we made our way to the room Blagothkus had promised us, which we were told we could not leave until they came to get us. This gave me some much needed extra time to brew a potion of growth, which came in most handy later on.   After the giants fed us some breakfast we headed out to find the Red Wizards, in the hopes we could convince them to abandon their allegiances to the cult. When we found them it turned out to be none other than the Rath Modar we had heard about, and Azbara Jos, whom we had traveled with in the caravan. Unsurprisingly they refused this line of thinking, confident in the Cult’s ultimate victory. Once the fight began Rath was quick to flee, which was, at once, both relieving and frustrating. The coward did not even try to save his associate. Azbara put up a good effort, even managing to call other cultists to his aid, but it was far too late for him.   Azbara’s cries for help were met by the appearance of Rezmir herself, along with guard drakes and several cultists. Seeing Rezmir I strode through the fiery inferno that had become the Red Wizard’s doorway, courtesy of Conrad, and quaffing the potion of growth as I went. The ensuing fight was brutal. Virgil, having run directly into the fray as well, was surrounded by drakes, cultists, and Rezmir and was getting absolutely torn to shreds. Rezmir’s blade was a wicked thing, whether inherently or through the use of her own magic, I am as of yet unsure. All of us were more exposed than we would have liked, but there were not a lot of options available to us without risking even more of their allies being called in for help. Conrad sent a tremendous wave over one group of cultists, and Nuri electrified another group. Rhumor was busy planting arrows in everyone, and Virgil and I continued to slash away at the many foes surrounding him.   We emerged bloodied and battered, but victorious and all of us alive. It is with great trepidation that I await the time for examining this powerful blade the black half dragon warrior wielded. And the mask… she was wearing a black dragon mask that was far more ornate than anything we have seen cultist’s wear before. We were told some time ago that Rezmir was a Wearer of Purple…she was one of their top ranking leaders. I believe we may have just struck our first real blow to the cult here. If we can destroy the dragon and prevent the treasure hoard from making it to the cult, it will be a significant blow to their goals indeed.   All of that fighting really worked up an appetite. I wonder if we could convince the giants to provide lunch…

Through the Woods, and into the Air, to Blathokus’ House We Go!

As we approached the town of Parnast on the way to find Skyreach Castle it became fairly apparent that we would need additional directions. A low hanging fog blocked our line of sight to wherever the castle might be. Perhaps we could convince the cultists in the town we are part of the cult with better results than our previous attempts.   Alas, ‘twas not to be. The leader of the cult in Parnast, whom most simply called Captain, was immediately suspicious. We were able to dispatch him and his underlings along with a truly terrifying monstrosity of a statue of Severin (The highest ranking leader of the Cult of the Dragon that we were aware of at the time). The animated statue was incredibly powerful, but we had the good fortune to be a fair distance from it when it animated, and were able to whittle it down before it posed a true threat to us.   Right about this time the Castle became visible to us – but only because it was flying away! A true local to the town that also hated the cult’s presence there quietly offered aid in the form of advice: The wyverns that were in the stables were trained to take riders to and from the castle when it was airborne. Nuri was ecstatic about this idea. While the idea of flying sounds marvelous, the idea of doing on the back of a potentially hostile creature was not. Moreso even since Conrad was really the only one among us that had any real experience in handling beasts. At the end of the day though we were going to need at least 2 of these to fit us all. There was a 3rd wyvern saddled and ready, and not wanting anyone to use it to follow us, I decided to brave the risks and ride the 3rd solo. Miraculously we all managed to get enough control of our new mounts without being bucked, clawed, or bitten. Off we went.   Yes, flying in this manner was exhilarating. Yes, it was frightful when you looked down. And, yes, it was mortifying when we realized we were going to have to engage in an aerial battle with experienced wyvern riders approaching us from the castle!   This fight was tricky, and unlike anything any of us had ever done before. Controlling the wyverns was of course the most difficult task. All was going quite well until Nuri’s wyvern took a nasty hit and began flailing about like a earth worm that just had salt poured on it. Virgil managed to keep his seat in the saddle, but Nuri began to fall. At this time I was a fair distance away, and mostly to one side at that – getting my mount close enough to the falling sorceress would be extremely tricky, and would risk me getting bucked. I did not see exactly how it happened, or who went where, but before it was all over all four of my companions were on one wyvern! Once the last of the cultists had been either killed or knocked off their mounts (with the end of result of them dying some hundreds or thousands of feet below us), we managed to make a safe landing in the wyvern holding area of the castle.   My mind races, my adrenaline still rushing, we are here. The answers to my runes are somewhere here. It’s just a matter of time now. And surviving long enough to find out. And then surviving long enough to make use of the knowledge. Aside from giants, dragons, red wizards, and a vampire what could possibly go wrong?

Mountain Dream Houses and How to clear out the vermin you find when you arrive:

This hunting lodge really is a simply idyllic place. High up in the mountains, somewhat secluded, breathtaking views… it even came with some superb wine. Of course when we arrived it was being inhabited by the cult of the dragon, which required some house keeping. Talis the White, who seemed every bit as arrogant as Borngray, nearly fell to my sword just after Virgil worked to save the innocent woman whom Talis had just insisted we kill. My third strike, which was largely my mailed fist and pommel, shortly thereafter knocked her out cold. Unfortunately this somehow triggered some magical armor in the room, and those things packed a wallop.   Once all of Talis’ guards and the enchanted armor had been dealt with, we began the interrogation. Ah yes, and I am getting a bit ahead of myself. How did we get here in the first place? Well, Talis initially was cordial. She invited us to eat and drink, and chat. Then Jamna appeared, ostensibly working for, or with, Talis. Lovely, I thought to myself. The conversation was strange. She essentially wanted us to do exactly what we were planning to do already, with the notable exception of leaving Rezmir alive. In exchange she would provide us with the necessary information and credentials to enter the castle unchallenged. Before she would trust us though, she insisted we kill an innocent woman right then and there. Of course this did not sit well with most of us. As Virgil executed a brilliant maneuver removing the young woman from the cultist holding a knife to her back, Talis ordered Jamna to kill us. Astonishingly Jamna flatly refused the order, and turned on Talis’ guards.   Okay, now back to the interrogation, which Jamna spearheaded. Talis was stubborn, but not quite as stubborn as Borngray. As a result we gained a great deal of valuable information. Near the end of the interrogation, Nuri, Conrad, and Jamna went out to free additional prisoners we had learned of. As Virgil and I all tried to sort out what Talis’ fate should be, Talis offered up one last tease: She knew something of the vampire that had vanished in the arcane vision we had all shared in the observatory. Her terms were ludicrous for giving up what she knew, and Virgil very nearly took her hands off for her foolishness. Finally she acquiesced and told him what she knew. Satisfied, Virgil departed the room. I looked at her and simply said, well you’ve held up your end of the bargain, and so shall I. I then departed the room. Shortly after I heard mutterings of a spell, followed by running steps, the twang of a bow string, and the thud of a very dead Talis’ body hitting the floor. Probably for the best, there’s no telling if she would have tried to warn those at the castle that we were on our way.   As Rhumor, Conrad, and I began to ensure the rest of the lodge was clear of potential threats and to avail ourselves of any additional valuables, Nuri spent time learning the wonders of a rather potent wand that Talis had wielded during the fight. Unfortunately that wand will not do us much good against the white dragon that lurks underneath Skyreach, but it is a great boon nonetheless. My spirits are bolstered by the knowledge that the alliance between the cult and this Cloud giant, one Blathokus by name, is already quite tenuous. Perhaps we can add to that strain and turn the giants against the cult. I must be extremely cautious in how this is accomplished however as Blathokus may be my only chance to uncover the meaning of my rune rubbings. Just the thought of learning their secrets has invigorated me, and drives me forward, despite the fact that I am a bit weary from all of the fighting.   What used to be a somewhat ragtag band adventurers, misfits, and unexpected allies is beginning to look like a unified team. Though each of us has very different, and personal, reasons for continuing down this strange path, our purpose is somehow unified. I consider Conrad’s missing colleagues, Nuri’s missing family, Virgil’s missing friend, my quest for knowledge, understanding, and belonging as well as Rhumor’s search for what defines his sense of self. Pulled in many directions individually but drawn on together by the greater threat looming ahead.   I wonder if Bregan D’aerthe has learned of the cult’s plans? Would the likes of Beniago or his superiors even care? They would have to know that the cult’s plans would pose a threat to their overworld dealings and profits, but would that be enough to convince them to get involved?

Castle Capers Part IV: Visions of the Past & Hints of the Future

It is truly wonderous what a solid block of time spent meditating will do for someone. Most of the fog has cleared from my mind… though the memory of Her pressing into me as I fell in battle still lingers. Somewhat less after giving her some of what she wanted. As distasteful as I found his needless end, perhaps She will remain satisfied with the death of Borngray and I can slip into the shadows again and remain unnoticed.   Following our group’s time of recuperation we managed to best Borngray and his remaining minions. He talked readily enough, if not fully enough. The strangest things happened after that fight, in a room above where a strange arcane powered spyglass device was located.   Firstly, Nuri found while looking through it that the black dragon that resides in this swamp is actually two black dragons. Because, you know, one is not bad enough. We must be sure to pass this intel to the Harpers, assuming we live long enough to do so. Inspecting the device awoke a number of stone gargoyles. This fight was brief, but hard won as we were already tired from the battle with Borngray and his minions.   Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, some unbelievable arcane power has been imprinted in this room. As we approached we were, all of us, transported back in time to watch a dreadful scene play out. Apparently the final tale of what transpired in the castle regarding Virgil’s friend. Though, this still leaves more questions than answers. It seems clear that Virgil’s friend, Whistler, was betrayed by a friend within her stargazer community. This friend turned out to be a vampire who was aiding the cultists for her own nefarious reasons. The end of this strange vision was when Whistler threw an orb that transported both women….somewhere. I suppose this is good news, there is a chance yet that his friend lives, though where she is located is now less certain than ever.   Lastly, having watched Virgil very closely in the fighting over the last several days I believe I can now emulate his stamina recovery technique, and have even managed to further improve my defensive posture. I must continue to watch him so I can learn the secret to pushing myself to limits for that extra surge of energy he seems to get from time to time. He is a superb fighter, and I hope to learn as much as possible from him.   We leave the castle in the swamp heavily burdened with treasures, though much of that is in copper pieces. Conrad sought out the direct guidance of his… his what? His god? His avatar? Some secret primordial being of fire? Whomever, or whatever, it is told him we must press on with haste, and so we have done so. Straight to this hunting lodge in the mountains. This course of action agrees with me fully as I am anxious to find this Sky Castle that belongs to a Cloud Giant. How fortuitous it is that these paths intersect. At least, I hope it is fortuitous. If the Cloud Giants have aligned themselves with the Cult, I may be hard pressed to get them to provide any insight or answers I seek. Conversely… giants and dragons have a long history of hating each other. Mayhaps I could use this to my advantage, which would be advantageous to all of us really. What would the Harpers think if I could convince the Cloud giants to join our cause against the Cult? And perhaps with that happy news the unraveling of the mystery of my rune rubbings. What powers do they present, what knowledge bestowed upon those who unlock their secrets?   Yes, I will push Her out of my mind and focus on what is to come. I mustn’t let my concentration slip as I seek the path to knowing more about these runes.

Castle Capers Part III: Shadows of Darkest Light

In a brilliant flash of light that was coupled with searing pain, shadows flashed before my eyes. I saw Her again. I know not if my actual body convulsed, but in the shifting of reality I was experiencing, I shivered, terror etched across my face. I had run from Her, abandoning Her directed cause, and now I would have to face Her as my life force ebbed slowly away from my surely limp form. As her sickly sweet voice entered my mind, Back so soon, my pet? I felt myself try to swallow the boulder-sized lump that was stuck in my throat. My stomach tightened and twisted. Total hopelessness seeped in, and I could sense the lavender fire in my eyes fizzle and disappear.   We had re-entered the castle proper with the intent of clearing out the remaining Bullywugs and cultists. The bullywugs were easy enough to deal with. There were so cultists, including some of those superior warriors, that had positioned themselves in a strong defensible spot that took a real toll on our group as we endeavored to take them down. By this point Nuri had a small cadre of Lizardfolk following her commands, and a good thing too. Once we learned the location that Borngray was holed up in, we headed that way.   Rhumor was leading, trying to secretly gauge the enemy strength near the entrance to the Elf’s tower, but was spotted immediately. We all rushed in. Despite my earlier warnings to myself to not become overconfident, I rushed in and let my mind slip just a little. A little was too much. As I rounded the corner to gain a solid vantage shot on the charging drakes a foul, vile, and monstrous creature emerged from the nearby refuse pit. It wrapped its tentacle around me and began thrashing and biting. I fought back, but even a solid hit from my sword was shrugged off like a grain of sand hitting a stone building. I managed to break free, but before I could escape its reach it grabbed me again, thrashing, biting, crushing, and then the flash of light just before the searing pain, and then all went black.   I remember very little after that. Conrad was nearby. I was wildly swinging my sword. I heard the most awful squelching sounds, but knew not the source. Then, the wretched creature’s grasp went limp, and I felt part of its life force bolster mine. Had I cursed it? I could not remember. Then I was throwing eldritch power with abandon at drakes. Or was I? Perhaps that was Nuri. Howls from lizardfolk and drakes alike. The foulest of odors permeated the air.   After the fighting was done I gulped down two potions of healing, and while this did help to clear my head, I still felt… less. I was seeing shadow everywhere, and I actively looked for the light. There was more fighting, in the barbican, though I cannot recall why. I need rest. Lots of rest. Just one more casting of prestidigitation to help clear the stench. I silently prayed there would be no shadows in my Trance meditation as I slipped into the slumber like state.

Castle Capers Part II

As we watched the two Bullywugs escape deeper into the cave, some of my compatriots began develop a sense of unease. Back when we had first entered the underground area we had taken a fork that led down – following some muddy footprints. The fact that there was an another path began to sit uneasily, and we decided to backtrack rather than push forward.   When we arrived back in the main entrance area of this subterranean space, Rhumor discovered yet another branching circuit of the cave we had missed seeing entirely when we first entered. Initially it appeared to be an empty alcove, with something glimmering at the bottom of a shallow pool on one end. Before any of us got too close though, Conrad noticed something out of place – something slick, and slimy. He sent his summed frog to investigate. A greyish ooze then lashed out at the frog. The ooze was easy enough to destroy, and Virgil collected quite a stash of precious gems from the bottom of the pool. Not quite the treasure hoard we’ve been looking for, but more valuable than everything else we’ve seen so far!   Tracking back to the main room we had to deal with more Bullywugs – our presence, or at least the disturbance our presence was causing, had been detected. We killed all but one of the bullywugs before any could run for help. That one was met with a spear from a lizardfolk ally that was at the bottom of the castle steps. And so we kept moving, exploring this other branch we had previously ignored upon entry. The path forward found us looking down into a depressed area of the cave, about 15 feet down, obscured heavily by fog and mist. We could hear bullywugs talking, but could not see them. A crane offered a way to lower heavy loads down, and I surmised the treasure was being brought this way after sorting.   Rhumor and I climbed down a rope ladder, and I waited silently for him to do what he does best. He killed two of them in shadows before the third began screaming and running. The rest of the group came down and we crept up toward the passage the fleeing bullywug had taken. We began to hear some sort of bizarre chanting. Pharblex. This was it.   Once we were in position Rhumor took his shot. It hit the grotesque looking bullywug leader, but did not have nearly the effect we would have hoped for. This larger creature, wearing a hat made of a crocodile’s head, simply turned to look at us, malice in its eyes. Nuri attacked, and then I unleased twin blasts, trying to position myself to shield her from the rapidly approaching minions of Pharblex. Poisoned darts came flying at me from blowguns fashioned from swamp reeds. Several of them hit me, one of them nearly caused me to succumb to its insidious poison. Then Pharblex began chanting, casting a spell, and just as I saw spikes begin to break through the ground and the walls I shouted my counterspell. The look on Pharblex’s face was priceless.   While all of this magic was flying about, Virgil had rushed in and was busy bashing minions into minced froggy bits. Conrad had his summoned frog thwacking the bullywugs, and had Ardor poofing in and out all around them, singing their slimy skins with each move. Then Pharblex and his minions began focusing on me in earnest. I took quite a few nasty hits, and finally had to retreat, teleporting myself back many paces. Conrad gave support from there, and I began to feel stronger again - and not a moment too soon. I did not see exactly how Pharblex went down, but down he went, and shortly thereafter so did the last of his minions.   Looking to the last branch of the cavern that was yet unexplored we were surprised to encounter two very capable looking cultists. They must have heard the fighting with Pharblex, but clearly were disinterested in the outcome. They attacked us, and we fought again. These cultists were tough, skilled, and far better armed and armored than any we’d fought before. Unbelievably, they took down Virgil, though only just before falling themselves. Conrad tended to Virgils severe wounds, bringing him back to consciousness, and we inspected this last alcove. A magical portal was scribed into the ground here, and another intricate alter to Tiamat on the back wall. We decided to take a short break to catch our breath, and renew our stamina. Rhumor, Conrad, and Nuri found a curious (and magically warded) box hidden in the altar. It contained some wondrous items, and this was what Sintos had alluded to when he gave the magical words to Nuri.   As we turned back to head back to the castle, we heard, and to some degree, saw, a large group at the top, headed our way. The half elf was there, along with more lizardfolk, including one that we surmised to be Rockfoot, and even more of those battle-hardened cultists.   Conrad ran right up to base of the cliff and blew his horn. The walls shook, the ground shivered, everyone screamed in agony. Two of the lizardfolk fell down, and the half elf and Rockfoot turned back, commanding the remaining forces to kill us. While grateful for the improved odds in battle, I was horrified by the cowardice I'd just witnessed.   With the mist dispersed by the horn, the fight was on in full. We focused mostly on those cultists, though some of the lizard folk were caught in the crossfire. I saw Virgil charging the cliff face, confused as to his intent, when he suddenly disappeared, and then reappeared up top! This minotaur truly is full of surprises! What a marvelous thing, a giant teleporting Minotaur! I reminded myself how glad I was he was fighting with us, and not against us!   Even after a lizardfolk had speared her, Nuri stood her ground without retaliating, and lifted high the head of Pharblex. She said something in Draconic I could not understand, and I watched in astonishment as the lizardfolk kneeled before her. An enraged cultist seeing this charged toward Nuri – only to be gutted by the lizardfolk who now protected her.   After the last cultist fell, Nuri spoke to the two remaining lizardfolk at some length. She found out that Rezmir and Azbara intended to flee the castle, using the portal we were now in front of. They also told her they believe Rockfoot would join our cause if Nuri showed him Pharblex’s head. Apparently the half-elf Borngray would be staying behind.   After so much fighting, and with nearly all of our resources expended, we decided it best to let Rezmir and Azbara go through the portal, while Rhumor and Conrad hid in the mist to listen for the activation word, which turned out to be “Drayzeer.” With only Borngray and a few of his cultist minions left to fight, our next move would be to go back to the castle and do a more complete inspection and exploration of the main and upper levels.   Less than a few hours ago I feared this task of infiltrating the castle and staying alive to be a near impossible proposition, and now, here wee are, nearing that very goal. I must remember to not be overconfident, who knows what tricks that half elf has up his sleeve, and we yet do not know exactly how many cultists remain.

Castle Capers: Part I

The infiltration of Castle Narytar went better than any of us could have hoped. After Snapjaw spoke to leading members of his tribe he and one other lizardfolk warrior escorted us into the castle under the guise of being new cult recruits. Thanks to Nuri’s brilliant fast talking and a touch of illusion, we got past all of the guards as well as a dining hall full of cultists, and were able to make our way into an unoccupied tower. From there, with help from Rhumor, we then crossed over to the tower we needed to be in that led to the basement stairs by running along the castle’s perimeter wall.   The top of the tower we re-entered had been boarded up and was completely unused by the cult. We soon discovered why. There were three skeletons on the floor, and Virgil recognized the vestments of the Order that his friend belonged to. As he was investigating the remains three ghostly apparitions rose and attacked. Once the ghosts were dispatched Virgil was able to confirm that none of the remains were that of his friend. Part of me wonders what it is he expects to find here. I empathize with him, and do hope we find evidence that his friend had escaped whatever fate befell their order before the Cult of the Dragon arrived, but so much time must has passed. With the strange timelessness of the Fey Realm it could have been decades… or more. If his penpal’s cohorts remains are now nothing but bone, how long has it been? Perhaps some clue will present itself.   Now free to follow the stairs all the way down into the subterranean portion of the castle that Sintos had alluded to, and that our new Lizardfolk allies had indicated would be the most likely location for the Bullywug leader, Pharblex Splattergoo, we descended. Two bullywugs tended to some mud (the hatchery perhaps?) and were easy to dispatch. Following the cavern deeper in we ran into swarms of centipedes, giant frogs, and eventually more bullywugs. The centipedes, whilst annoying, were not a terrible threat, particularly once we figured out they shy away from flame (even torch flame was enough to accomplish this). Conrad spoke to the giant frogs and was able to convince them that we would not make for very good eating, an argument enhanced by the piles of dead centipedes we could now provide them. Then out came the bullywugs, who largely stayed underwater. Two of them got away deeper into the cave.   The cave system grows dimmer and dimmer, and I sense we are close to reaching our goal. I just hope this bullywug shaman is within our capability to deal with. Aside from the obvious price of failure for our little band, I do wish to see the lizardfolk freed from the forced servitude of the cult and bullywugs. I can’t wait to see the looks on the faces of Biteclaw and Snapjaw when we present them with the head of the bullywug shaman. If they will fight the cult with us, we should have no problem clearing out most of the rest of the castle’s residents. Then we can make a proper search for clues to Virgil’s missing friend, the cult’s next moves, and hopefully pack in a good portion of the treasure.

The Convergence of the Bizarre and Unlikely

Our trek through the Mere of Dead Men, as we followed what I suppose passes for a trail, on the way to Castle Nayemer was quite possible the most bizarre series of events to have occurred in this journey yet, because things had not been strange enough apparently.   When the group awoke from the night’s rest, Grok was packing up. He informed us he’d received word that his tribe was in trouble and he intended to help them. And just like that, he left. Once the four of us remaining got over the initial shock of being left in the swamp without a toe-to-toe fighter amongst us, we struck out, determined to continue our path. As we trudged through the dismal surroundings I began to muse that I would likely get a great deal more practice in swordplay than I’d originally anticipated.   Shortly thereafter Conrad and Nuri spotted, or heard, another group of Lizardfolk in the distance. As they listened in on the conversation they heard the creatures discussing some strange tracks here in the swamp – cow tracks. Why is it always cows that are in the strangest of places? I was beginning to think some god somewhere had a bovine fixation. In any event, we continued trailing them, eventually approaching a rather large clearing that contained the answer to the riddle. There in the center of the clearing was a minotaur, surrounded by a large group of lizardfolk and more of the giant pack lizards. I’d never seen a (living) minotaur in the flesh before and was initially caught off guard by its sheer size. Easily standing over seven feet tall, heavily muscled, and wearing the most peculiar bleached white wooden armor, this massive thing was fully prepared to take on the entire pack of lizardfolk by itself. Whether or not that was a realistic expectation I cannot say, but we needed the lizardfolk gone either way, and perhaps the enemy of my enemy might be my friend.   We were able to get quite close before we were spotted. It did not take too long for us to clear them all out. The enormous minotaur attracted quite a few of the lizardfolk which Nuri used to her advantage and obliterated the creatures dumb enough to swarm close to each other. Rhumor sniped the giant lizards from… well, wherever he wanted to be, and that left just a few for Conrad and I to deal with. Introductions were… awkward. The Minotaur, one Virgil by name, seemed reticent to reveal his purpose other than the fact that he was heading to the castle to search for a friend. Nuri managed to convince me this did not inherently mean he was associated with the cultist, or that his friend was necessarily associated with the cultists. Somewhat tentatively we headed out once again.   As we neared what was to be the end of the trail, we spotted a camp. The camp had quite a few lizardfolk at it, and was situated by several waterway edges, with a number of small boats pulled ashore. We figured that to find our way through the waterways we would need a guide. Fortunately there was one lizardfolk that was sitting apart from the main group. We would impress upon him how important it was to his health to help us out.   Virgil and I were able to snag him and knock him unconscious without the rest of his friends noticing. Then, in a brilliant display of druidic power, Conrad entangled the entire lizardfolk group with some sort of spell that caused all of the roots in the area to grow. They could barely move. Nuri and Rhumor picked them off at a distance and Virgil and I beating down the ones that got too close. To my surprise the lizardfolk we had spared, who called himself Snapjaw, seemed very cooperative. Apparently he, and many of his tribe, were not very happy about the cultists taking over the castle and forcing them to work. Moreover there are some type of frogmen that the cult has also enlisted to help - and the lizardfolk do not get along at all with the frogmen ever since the head frogman killed the tribe leader. Confident with our newfound guide’s intentions, we forged onward.   At some point Snapjaw said he needed to relieve himself and wandered off into the swamp. Quite some time later when he still had not returned we elected to go in search of him. We found drag marks and began to follow the trail. Rhumor expertly snuck up on the entrance to what appeared to have been a hole dug into the side of a hill, spying a red capped gnome inside. Conrad indicated the entire abode blazed with magical power. Then, despite not having made a sound, the gnome looked right at Rhumor and bade him enter. My mind raced, my heart nearly stopped. Was it a dragon in disguise? The avatar of a god? Whatever the case, there did not seem to be any choice but to find out. We all entered the little abode and were offered steaming tea. I requested wine, because, well why not? Clearly this being had access to tremendous power. The cup in front of me shimmered, and then wafting from inside came the most fragrant mulled wine scent. I took a sip. I do not believe I shall ever have wine that good again. This cup of ambrosia almost made up for missing out on exploring Waterdeep and instead sludging through the Mere of Dead Men… almost.   The gnome identified himself as Sintos, but would give no more information about himself. He told us he had gifts for us all, but the sack he had them in was stuck in a giant spiders’ lair located in a nearby canyon. Wary of traps and deceit, we decided to investigate, and hope for the best. As we entered the canyon we could indeed see a large red sack at the far end. I took the lead, trying to entice the spiders out. I made it all the way to the webbing the sack was located in and still no spiders. Teleporting onto the sack, careful to avoid stepping on the webbing finally triggered the spiders arrival. There were only 3 of them. Shouldn’t be too bad, I thought to myself. Just before eliminating all of the spiders something else rumbled up from beneath the webbing where I stood. A huge mass of roots and limbs and brambles, and it was sentient. I immediately teleported away. Virgil then charged in and began hacking away at it. Nuri threw her lightning at it, and to our horror the already monstrous creature grew. It was feeding itself off of the lightning! Rhumor sprinted down, grabbed the sack, and then back up the hill. I began tossing eldritch blasts until Conrad rushed in. Terrified this massive creature would obliterate my strange druidic friend I teleported back down to flank it with Virgil, invoking the power of the radiant visages swirling around me. We continued hacking away at it as it tried smashing us repeatedly with its arms… limbs? Appendages? Virgil took a few nasty hits but did a truly remarkable job of shrugging off those powerful blows and landing more of his own. Eventually the wretched thing went down, though we had expended the bulk of our resources to secure that outcome.   Back at the gnome’s hole in the hill we were, in fact, rewarded. Each of us received a gift. Conrad a magical horn, Virgil a splendid battleaxe, Nuri a powerful elixir, Rhumor a peerless magical arrow, and I a magical amulet. Upon donning it I felt stamina course through me unlike anything I’d ever felt before – it was intoxicating. Lastly, Sintos gave a magical word (or phrase?) to Nuri with the cryptic clue that it would come in handy once we reached the basement of the castle. Perhaps that is where the treasure hoard is kept?   As I reflect back on the past day or so I am amazed at the many surprises, some bad and some good. We lost a comrade, but appear to have found a new one. We met a benevolent being of tremendous power who bestowed us with gifts, and we gained an ally to help us infiltrate the castle. This has led to some meditation on just how difficult it will be to get into the castle even with an ally, at which point we need to verify the treasure hoard is there and then figure out how to get that information back to the Harpers… All this while keeping up our end of the bargain with Snapjaw to help him rid the area of the frogmen, and at least make a dent in the presence of the cult. My head begins to spin as I consider the many contingencies we have to keep in mind. I do look forward to getting out of the swamp. Even with Conrad’s spell to help us skate along the surface of the muck, I grow tired of the stench and the slurping sound of the mud during times when the spell is not active.    

Sleeping on Splinters
Mid Uktar

Mid Uktar...   Our time in Waterdeep was fleeting. Strangely I feel as though this has been the greatest disappointment throughout the bizarre set of circumstances and events to have transpired since I began traveling with these new companions.   I recall passing through Waterdeep briefly during my journey south to Greenest. During that first trip, the City was on high alert from some recent event-the nature of which I was unable to ascertain at the time-and anytime someone caught a glimpse of my skin the best I could hope for was a nervous avoidance. From everything I had heard about Waterdeep this reaction was very atypical, but it was the reality at the time. As a result, I did not spend a great deal of time here during that trip. I had wanted to. I had wanted to stroll the streets and see the marvelous craft of the great artisans I’d heard about. I was also quite keen on the idea of experiencing the pleasures wrought by the famous cooking competitions held here, which naturally came with exquisite wines. I wanted to take in evenings watching sunsets over the Sea of Swords, and sample wines from all over the Sword Coast. I had even pondered the possibility of running across other Shadar kai who, like me, had left the service of the Raven Queen in search of something better. Perhaps had I stayed longer the nervous energy the city portrayed would have abated and I could have explored the City of Splendors more. I was really looking forward to that opportunity this time around. Alas, it was not meant to be.   Not even half a day here, we left as dusk was settling over the glimmering waters of the sea. The cultists were dead set on pushing north without even spending the night, and so we too planned to follow. We had just enough time to speak to some contacts and visit a local shop friendly to the Harpers. With the optimistic hope I would get to return within the season, I put a deposit down to hold a magical sword of interest to me that they currently did not have. In some ways this may have been just as well – chances are I did not have the funds at present to purchase it anyway. With any luck, by the time I return I will have a great deal more to spend. I wonder if I should have also tried to commission a blacksmith to make me some adamantine armor as well. Though, I suppose there was not time for that – we moved so quickly to get out of the city.   As it turned out, through information gathered from a Harper contact, as well as through the Zhentarim agent Jamna, we felt confident that the cultists would stop at the Carnath Road House. Rather than try to join this caravan, or shadow them, we pushed on even faster to arrive at their destination before they did. I certainly understood everyone’s concern about continuing to pose as guards to yet another caravan the cultists were a part of, but I had real concerns about losing track of them. Fortunately my fears were unfounded, though I would not know this until we reached our destination.   The mad dash north was largely uneventful save one truly unbelievable encounter with a troll and a cleric of Tymora. We had stopped briefly by the roadside for a quick break for the horses when Rhumor heard cries of help from up the hill and in the woods. Wary of what might be a bandit’s ruse to attack we went in. As we reached a small clearing a cleric, badly wounded, came stumbling through. He was being chased by an enormous troll. Hideous creatures trolls. We were able to make fairly quick work of the troll, though its powerful claws and bite did take a serious toll on poor Grok. After the troll was dispatched, and Andor (Conrad’s fire spirit) had completely torched the repulsive creature into nothing more than ash, the cleric began asking us questions. Rhumor told him that an elvish woman, finely dressed, had beckoned him to aid the cleric. This was news to all of us – none of the rest of us had seen a woman. The cleric nearly lost his mind then, claiming that Tymora herself had visited Rhumor, and that the strange parcel the cleric was running with was meant for Rhumor. Inside was a fine, and ancient looking, Elvish longbow – covered in magical script and runes. It may be some time before we get to have it properly examined, but it does appear to be an exquisite piece of work. The cleric then bade us to visit him in the Tower of Luck next time we were in Waterdeep.   The Roadhouse was unlike anything we were expecting. A single structure, it was little more than a warehouse with a kitchen and some sleeping rooms. I really had no idea how to proceed. My flock of familiars had already scouted nearly the entire building when Nuri and Conrad decided to go in and try and get lodging to do additional investigation. Conrad and Nuri were able to confirm the cultists would be coming through here – the half orc in charge of the warehouse had a dragon cult sword – it could be no coincidence.   Amazingly, Conrad was the one to find out directly from the half orc that an old castle was nearby, named Nayemer. The same castle was named in documents we found in the cultists’ cave near Greenest. This was their final destination. Of course, at this point we just knew that the castle was somewhat near, but not exactly where. Later that night they helped Rhumor sneak in. Rhumor was after a particular key that apparently was the price of admittance for joining the Zhentarim. I am unsure how I feel about that. I’d heard a great deal about the Zhentarim of course, but until meeting Jamna I had never run across any of them. They steered well clear of Luskan out of fear of incurring the wrath of Bregan D’aerthe. What I did know of them was they were, in fact, one of the few factions along the Sword Coast the drow had any real respect for, which said volumes about their efficacy and skill. They also were said to have a reputation for being cruel, if not downright evil. Come to think of it, how strange is it that a cleric of Tymora would appear to Rhumor at this time? I wonder what the clever elf makes of that conundrum!   Successfully pilfering the key from the half-orc, Rhumor was also able to get into the one room my spiders had not been in. Inside was a trap door with a tunnel beneath. We decided to try the tunnel. Just before we could enter though, a bunch of lizardmen jumped out of it! We fought off those in the warehouse, and quickly ran into the tunnel, only to find more them waiting outside the tunnel exit, above ground. I teleported myself up and behind them as a distraction so everyone else could leave the tunnel. It worked, but I paid a price in pain as they teamed up against me. Grok rushed out so fast that he too suffered from too many enemies attacking all at once. This was most fortuitous for me though, as I am uncertain I would have survived an onslaught from the six that were now split between the two of us. During these fights Nuri displayed the power of her bloodline expertly sending deadly lighting bolts that must have killed nearly a dozen lizardmen. Conrad was able to send Andor in to extract Grok from his predicament just in time for Nuri to blast most of his assailants into a neat little row of corpses.   As we took stock of our situation, realizing we were a fair distance from the Roadhouse, with no discernible path back, a clearly discernible path forward, and likely a fully awakened guard back at the Roadhouse, we decided to hide ourselves nearby and get some much needed sleep. Here, in this dismal swamp. Not a tenday ago I’d hoped to be enjoying the City of Splendors, and instead I’m sleeping on splinters.

The Long Road Ahead: Part III
Midsummer

So. Much. Rain. I am accustomed to gloom. Winter in Luskan, which was about half of the year, was gloom personified. Gloomy days that are perpetually overcast. Frozen winds coming down from Icewindale constantly battering at the walls of Luskan, seeping into the city and biting at your back as you walk along the streets. While frozen wind from the north bite your back, an additional bone chilling ache that the sea air imposed on the core of your being made breathing heavy and thick, almost like you swallowed your air instead of simply breathing it. Gloomy nights where heavy fog obscured everything so fully even the raucous Luskan nightlife was tamed to a dull din. On nights when storms blew in, the snow and ice would bury the sights and sounds altogether. I actually came to enjoy those nights on account of the simple peace they brought. A blessed silence where the only sound you heard was that of the wind and the occasional creaking of ice as it shifted, cracked, or shattered. I am finding that the upside to the frozen gloom of a city is that there is little worry of muck and mud. We have been slogging through mud for days now. I’ve lost track of how many. The wagons get stuck, our boots get stuck, horse hooves slurp and stutter, cooking fires are nearly impossible to keep going, and due to all of the aforementioned misery, everyone is on edge. I believe this last bit may be the hardest for me. I’m not overfond of the mess so much mud and muck creates, but the whining is the worst. So much whining about the rain.   It was during this rain drenched slog that we reached a village called Aenor’s Rest and all of the wagons were unhitched. Enam indicated he intends for us to stay here until the weather has passed. So be it. I am certain my horse, well to be fair all of the horses, need an extended break from traversing such difficult roads.   Of course, it could not be a fully restful respite. As various members of the caravan began to attempt to gain entry to the Inn, most were turned away. I overhead someone tell both Conrad and Nuri the Inn was full, and then shut the door in their faces. While I expected to be sleeping outdoors with the wagon I was hired to protect, I decided to do a bit of investigating. An inn that was not allowing travelers to even enter for a drink is a decidedly unnatural thing. Additionally, now that we are nearing Waterdeep I was hoping there might be additional information about strange travelers heading north that may have passed through ahead of us. I still ponder how so much of the Cult’s treasure is being ported so very far without one of their high-ranking members at least close at hand. At this point I am beginning to think they must be behind us instead of ahead. In any event, I managed to garner a bit of rapport with the guard in the guard tower. A pleasantly friendly fellow, even after he took note of my shadowy heritage. He had not noticed anything or anyone unusual passing through before us unfortunately. He did tell me what little he knew of the four “nobles” that had effectively purchased all empty rooms in the Inn and were even denying entry to those seeking nothing more than a drink. He also noted a rather strange older couple that had arrived a few days before, and gave their names.   Meeting back up with my compatriots I was astonished to learn this older couple was Nuri’s grandparents! What in the gods names were they doing this far north? The guard had simply said they were talking to lots of folk and money had changed hands. Whilst a substantial tale could be spun describing what happened next, I shall try to keep it brief. In the end it turned out that the older couple were, in fact, Dopplegangers posing as Nuri’s grandparents. It was their atrocious luck that we happened to be at the Inn at the same time they were. No doubt fearing their secret would be exposed they tried to take off with Nuri. Rhumor’s keen eyes saw them sneaking off to the woods and alerted the rest of us. While perhaps this was not our most shining example of fighting, we did defeat the imposters. Interrogation of the one kept alive revealed no information about Nuri’s kin, and so it died too. Given the look on its face I would guess Nuri made it quite a painful death. While I still do not understand the attachment so many persons along the Sword Coast develop for their progenitors, and others they call family, I do hope for her sake that the old couple is hale and well. I believe she was able to convince Azbara to send a raven to inquire about them in Bergost – a most impressive feat in and of itself given the wizard’s disposition since his arrival.   The next day another merchant arrived in town. I found out he dealt mainly in potions but did claim to have an enchanted item or two. I’ve heard tale of items, such as a Pearl of Power, that allow spellcasters to cast a little more often than they normally have the aptitude for, and I was really hoping this merchant might have such an item. I also recall rumors that abounded in Bregan D’aerthe claiming the lieutenants all possessed rings that stored spells for later use. I might dismiss such tales altogether were it not for the fact that the mercenaries were famous for making liberal use of magical items. As the dangers we face increase, I have become more and more aware of my limitations in spell casting. Alas, the merchant did not have anything of interest to me, but in talking to him and inspecting the enchanted amulet he was trying to sell I realized Conrad would likely be very interested in speaking to him. The necklace did interest Conrad, as it seemed to give him a small boost to his druidic ability, but I believe of even greater importance was the fact that the man was able to translate a small portion of the abyssal book Conrad had been fruitlessly staring at for weeks now. It’s a shame the amulet did not increase one’s hardiness. I could have used something like that too. Oh well, Waterdeep is near, and perhaps I will be able to locate some additional items there.   That evening things became far stranger and more complicated. Jamna made an appearance for the first time since arrival in this village. She claimed the Cultists had discovered who we were and were trying to kill us (with bones in our stew… or something like that). Conrad cast multiple spells over our food, finding nothing. I am ever suspicious of that one, I don’t think she was telling the truth, and it was simply a ruse to further her aims, whatever they may be. In the short term she did ask us to help her uncover the contents of the wagons, despite my assurance that we already knew what was inside. Likely she was simply hoping we would provide distraction for her. Given her skill set, requesting our help was hardly necessary – so even that did not really provide ample motive in my opinion.   While I was not exactly expecting it, I was completely unsurprised to be roused the next morning to sounds of alarm when a cultist guard was found murdered just outside his wagon. No doubt Jamna was sneaking into or out of the wagon and got caught, much to the cultist’s poor luck. Of course she is nowhere to be found now. I haven’t the foggiest idea why, but one of the cultists decided it must be my fault. Investigation of the dead body showed a short sword had dealt the killing strike. Even with this evidence, and the entire rest of the caravan noting how often my compatriots and I had saved everyone’s skin, it was only through Azbara’s insistence of my innocence (Will wonders never cease?!?!), along with the rest of caravan insisting the wagon be searched for signs of robbery, that the cultists stopped their accusations… except for one. In one of life’s beautiful ironies, that dimwit is now dead, and I did not have to lift a finger.   Just as the accusations began to die down, Perytons attacked. Apparently they had been following the caravan for some time, waiting for the weather to clear up enough. With the entire caravan distracted by the murder, none of us saw it coming. This aerial attack was a most fortuitous event for me, in two ways. Firstly, the first Peryton to attack slaughtered my vehement accuser. Secondly, it was in fighting these airborne foes, and observing the ways their bodies moved during the attacks as they dove in and swooped back up so very quickly and fluidly, that I was finally able to solve the martial riddle of how to balance the momentum of my blade to quicken my attacks. It took another evening or two of applying the movements to my blade, which is slimmer than the peryton’s legs and talons, but I’ve mastered it. I’m confident I should be able to get off two attacks before an opponent will have time for reprisal. Now, if I can only master how to maintain my defensive posture while wielding such a large weapon. The brief battles we fought in this village also gave me cause to mediate on the collective memory of my shadow brethren and ponder new spells that might better serve us as we get closer and closer to our destination, wherever that might be. Hadar’s Arms are proving to be less and less effective of late, despite the fact that I can feel my power growing. I think, for the time being at least, I will focus more on spells that enhance my martial capabilities and provide additional protection. As I continue to enhance my martial training, I will need all the magical help I can get to survive close quarters combat.   As we draw nearer and nearer to Waterdeep I find myself thinking more and more about the hidden castle of the Cloud Giants. We are so close to the Sword Mountains, and I am torn. I know I cannot abandon this quest to quell this present darkness that threatens us all, but when might I find myself so close to this region again? Perhaps with luck the cultist’s will be stopping in Waterdeep, and other Harper Agents there can move on the cult. My stomach tightens both in excited anticipation and frustration as I consider how this opportunity may slip through my fingers.   It is a marvel that I am here at all… that we are here at all. It was after all less than a year ago that I sat on a wagon headed south with 3 strangers on the way to Greenest. I could never in my wildest imagination have thought that 2 of them would now be close traveling companions and allies in combat for more than a season. Also astonishing is what we have learned together, taught each other, and discovered in that short time. Conrad, the timid and somewhat naïve archeologist, has gained such confidence and begun to demonstrate real druidic authority. Our enigmatic wood elf companion, Rhumor, has displayed impossible skill and accuracy with his long bow – all while remaining virtually invisible to all, even us! Grok has gained unbelievable resilience in combat, almost single-handedly dispatching a half-dragon. I have lost track of how many times I was certain that one was going down and knocked unconscious, only for him to pop back up like a jack-in-the-box and even strike at his foe in doing so! Then there is Nuri. Or is it Kaida? I must inquire about this. Though I am not overconcerned, for she seems to be a most decent person (almost too decent), I am curious as to her motives for hiding her name. If she is the target of yet another dangerous entity, or group, we need to know so we can be prepared for whatever comes. Regardless, this gregarious and humble sorceress has displayed tremendous power through her magic. All of that power, yet she, out of all of us, is the most altruistic. I doubt I would have the information I now possess about these runes were it not for her aid. When I saw the doppelgangers running off with her limp form through the woods I could feel the burning anger deep within. If the general and ignorant populace of the Sword Coast is worth fighting for, how much more is the worth of one of its kindest citizens?   As long as our mutual journey lasts I shall continue to protect these compatriots and my wrath will be unleashed on the cult. I will sap them of their very life force and send them to be with their queen in her hellish prison. Let them worship her there.   Enam seems to think we are but a few days out from Waterdeep now, and that puts us right around six tendays on the road – a long road indeed.

The Long Road Ahead: Part II

Midsummer   The last three tendays have been largely uneventful all things considered. When we stopped at a hostel to leave the boorish merchant behind a new traveler joined the caravan. There’s not much to say about this human woman, Esma, except that… well, she is green. Apparently the result of a curse. I suppose I've seen stranger things, but this was admittedly bizarre. One does have to wonder what she must have done to earn that peculiar curse.   A day or two later the caravan stopped, having seen a wagon a good ways up the road that was all wrong. No people could be seen, the wagon was facing away from the road. Rhumor snuck up to investigate and discovered that the wagon’s owner and guards were all hiding in and around while a cadre of hobgoblins harassed them, likely waiting for nightfall before making a full frontal attack.   We snuck up on the hobgoblins, largely taking them by surprise, and gave them a good thrashing. Rhumor managed to dispatch their leader with a single brilliant shot. I’d not ever seen a hobgoblin before, much less fought one, and was surprised at how resilient the little buggers were. And skilled with their blades, too. All of them managed to evade Hadar’s tentacles as well as the flames from Conrad’s fire spirit, and even striking one with my greatsword was a challenge. When Groc finally caught up to me, I noticed he had the same problem. In the end they were no match for us though. The grateful nobleman gifted us gold, and the hobgoblins were surprisingly well equipped. We helped ourselves to all of their armor and weapons, which would fetch decent coin down the road. Best of all though, the hobgoblin Captain was wearing half-plate armor. The craftsmanship was nothing spectacular, but it was solid. I knew with a little cleaning, and few hours with my smithing and leather working tools I could get it to fit. Three days later I had recut and fitted the leather straps and buckles and reworked some of the plating to fit my form. It feels good, and provides even better protection than the breastplate did.   About a tenday after encountering the hobgoblins, just before reaching a small town called Silverglade, I noticed some Perytons circling overhead. Having warned the entire caravan of the imminent danger they posed everyone was ready when they tried to attack. All of the archers let loose as the Perytons dove, and magic was flying through the air as well. Having taken so many hits before reaching any of us, the Perytons decided we were not the easy prey they expected, and fled.   Our arrival in Silverglade brought with it some disturbing events. Two new individuals joined the caravan here, both of them hopping into wagons belonging to the cultists. Hoping to find out more I send my flock of familiars off to watch and listen. My cat, rat, and a spider were peering and listening in no time. I was able to learn one was a Thayan Red Wizard named Azbara Jos. It is a most disturbing thought that the cult may be allied with the Red Wizards of Thay. Unfortunately Azbara said very little, and his true purpose or place within the cult has remained a mystery. He even shuns the cultists, and so I have not been able to gather much more information about him.   The other individual was a female gnome named Jamna Gleamsilver. While she has presented herself as quite gregarious, it became clear quite quickly that she was surreptitiously interrogating everyone in the caravan. During these “friendly” conversations she never let slip any real information about herself. Rhumor was able to discover she works for the Zhentarim, though I did not ask how he came about this information. This is also very troubling news, and something the Harpers will definitely want to know about. Strangely though, Jamna had to argue with the cultists in order to secure passage on their wagon, so there is a good chance they are not yet allied. I wonder if there is a way to ensure that never happens…? She appears to be very crafty with both her words and the bearing of her form. She reminds me a bit like a tiny female version of Rhumor.   Over the next two tendays I spent my time picking up medical herbs in the mornings before we began moving up the road again, and sparring with Groc and the other guards in the evenings before everyone settled in the for the night. I have come to cherish these evenings, as it presents a rare opportunity to hone my skills with warriors from such a variety of fighting traditions and tactics. One of the guards spent considerable time in Vaasa fighting the terrifying monsters of the north, and like me she favors a large two-handed weapon. Another of my sparring partners trained in streets of Calimshan and he favors two smaller blades. Through it all I do my best to take note of their fighting styles, and learn. For my part, though I have not mastered it by any means, I seem to favor the defensive stances. I feel as though this is fitting since with my lithe form I cannot take the same kind of punishment many warriors, such as Groc, are accustomed to weathering. I know I have long way to go in learning the most effective defensive forms, which is compounded by my use of a two-handed weapon. I have been practicing other forms by myself late in the evenings as well, when most have gone to bed. Continuously trying to merge forms I learned from the Drow in Luskan – for drow warriors strike with astonishing speed—with the forms and maneuvers of this warrior who trained in Vaasa. If I can manage to merge the two styles successfully, I believe I could get two hits on an opponent before they had time to react. I know I am getting close to achieving it, but the balance and shift in momentum required for such quick strikes is still just out of my grasp. Soon. Very soon.   Spiders. I hate spiders. Especially big ones. Come to think on it, who does like spiders? I’m convinced the gods created spiders as some twisted hideous joke that only they find funny. One afternoon our caravan was accosted by Ettercaps. If you’ve never seen an Ettercap before, you might try to imagine what the offspring of an ogre and a mind flayer would be. Bulbous bodies with weird little tentacles dangling from their grotesque faces. They attacked the lead wagons and then began to drag them off the road, all in an effort to steal the horses. Conrad and I hopped onto my horse and raced ahead, Nuri and Groc were just behind us on horseback as well. Just as we were about attack the last two Ettercaps that were making off with the horses, Giant Spiders came out of the trees. How does something so large hide so well? The spiders were devastating in their attacks. They bound all of us up in webbing almost immediately, and then began biting and clawing. Their venom so toxic, even Groc could not resist it. Nuri managed to put two of them asleep, and as I teleported myself over to Groc (still bound up myself) to try to lend him aid, I watched him fall. In his extremely weakened state a stray spell from Nuri struck too near him, and he fell over, lightning crackling through his body (why is it always lightning that takes Groc down?). To my amazement, he immediately stood back up, and though it was clear his life was hanging by a thread, he still managed to attack the nearest creature in a furious rage. Nuri then burned away our remaining webbed bonds. About this time Conrad came up with a brilliant plan to block the cave entrance the Ettercap with all of the horses was trying to get to. In the end our little group was in very rough shape, but everyone was alive, and we had saved all of the horses. I’ll be having waking nightmares of pinkish purple glowing spiders for at least a tenday. Truly vile creatures.

The Long Road Ahead: Part I

Midsummer Whilst the last half of a tenday felt as though an entire season should have passed with everything that transpired for our bizarre little band, the following tendays have been largely the opposite. Leosin had been kind enough to purchase horses for us in Greenest to make our journey to Elturel a much quicker, and safer, affair. The journey was delightfully uneventful after the madness we’ve seen since first arriving here. In Elturel Conrad was able to sell off the gems we’d procured from the cave, which was easily the largest payday we have had. Not that it has made us rich by any means. One of the shops had a splendid cloak of deep purple that when I spin or turn just so seems to confuse onlookers, while somehow making my movements easier still. The wizard Morgan was… well, suffice it to say I hope I needn’t see him again. He did finally relent to share some information about the rune rubbings, including the fact that the central runes themselves are words of power related to Fire Giants and Cloud Giants, but that both tablets would have originated from a Cloud Giant. This last tidbit was of particular interest to Morgan. He also told me to seek out another wizard who resides in Baldur’s Gate – one Isaac Burrows. Morgan’s price for this information was steep - the dragon eggs we’d dragged all this way. Though, I suspect Grok is happy to no longer be lugging them around, I imagine the rest of team to be disappointed we did not secure more gold for them. If that is the case though, they have been gracious enough not to say so. Leosin’s contact here, Onthar Frume, was not at all what I was expecting. A paladin of Torm, and a strangely boisterous one at that. He belongs to an organization called The Order of the Gauntlet, and even asked us to join. Having watched him and his men, and hearing about their ideals and dispositions I could not see myself being part of something so rigid, controlling, and well, religious. Our actual meeting with Frume and Leosin was relatively short. The general consensus was that it is now feared that the cultists are planning to somehow free the evil dragon goddess Tiamat from the Nine Hells. Well, I managed to escape clutches of one evil queen, I damn sure am not about sit by and watch a far more powerful one be brought here to my new home. Leosin, who is apparently part of the Harpers organization, also offered us membership. The Harpers ideals do fall more in line with mine. I am all for maintaining balance, and freedom for individual choice. I decided it could be beneficial to have the Harpers’ help with future endeavors and agreed to join. Onthar and Leosin certainly make strange bedfellows, but with the potential dangers this cult presents, I suppose it makes sense. Together they tasked us with racing up to Baldur’s Gate so we could join the same travel caravan that the stolen treasure hoard would be in as they continued heading north. We made Baldur’s Gate with just enough time to secure work as guards for some random merchants that were leaving at the same time as the cultists and then for Conrad and I to rush off to find the Library Arcanum and Isaac Burrows. The young pratt that was at the door to library refused us entry, so I simply transported myself in and promptly made myself invisible. After the pratt walked off I went to check to see if Conrad was outside still. I couldn’t see him, but as I was looking a rat came up and through the little sliding window. After invisibly walking around a bit in search of someone that met Isaac’s description, I found him. Fortunately, Isaac was far more accommodating and friendly than Morgan. He identified several of ‘names’ that were part of the text in the rubbings. I am grateful and excited to have learned so much detail about them, but now I wonder if I will ever be able to discover more. Isaac talked about a castle that belonged to the Cloud Giants. He was also able to tell me that it was supposed to be located in the Sword Mountains, which are quite close to Waterdeep. But, when might I have a chance to go there? And even if I did, the Sword Mountains cover a tremendous area – how on earth do I find one forgotten castle in them? Cloud Giants are renowned for their powerful magics, which makes these runes even more intriguing, but I expect the castle might be enchanted to be hidden, if it still exists at all. Moreover, Giants and Dragons are sworn enemies, it is unlikely I would end up anywhere near them whilst chasing a dragon worshipping cult. Sadly, there is a good chance it will be a long time before I have an opportunity to explore this further. Perhaps once we’ve finished tracking the cultists our part will be done, and I can head into the Sword Mountains. Conrad and I hired on as bodyguards for a gnomish fellow who hasn’t said a dozen words since he hired us. Not that it matters overmuch, we have plenty to worry about already, but I do hope his constant looking back from the back end of the wagon is not an indicator that we should be too. It is either very sad, or very very unnerving. Still… I suppose we are being paid fairly well, I think, and we do have considerable freedom to move about, which is good. It has allowed us ample opportunity to identify all of the cultists wagons. Between Conrad being able to read lips (he never ceases to surprise me!), and my new flock of familiars that have allowed me to watch and listen as though I were right there, we are confident we identified all of them. A good thing too, as the cultist lieutenant that shackled Conrad back in their camp is among them. Conrad and I gave Rhumor some magical boosts and Rhumor dispatched him while he was in the woods on the second morning out from the City. Rhumor was concerned about the inquiries about his death that would inevitably follow, and so I suggested to Conrad that a bear should ravage the body after. The plan worked flawlessly, and no one was the wiser. Grok and Nuri had secured similar gigs working for a very wet behind the ears human girl. Based on what Nuri has said, I just hope the poor lass survives the trip. Rhumor had managed to secure work as a hunter for the caravan’s food wagon. All in all I think we did well. Each of us has a place in the caravan, and we get paid a little as well. One of the benefits of this long journey is that it has provided me ample opportunity to work on my martial skills. When the caravan stops for any real length of time I have chances to spar with Grok, and occasionally even with some of the guards from other wagons. I do of course have lots of time on my hands for making more necklaces with the drake teeth and claws, but given our close proximity to Cultist wagons, I believe the risk too great. I may instead spend some time creating additional potions of healing, though we have not had need of any thus far. The journey to Waterdeep is very long though, and I’ve no doubt that the need will arise eventually. About a tenday into the slow trek one of the merchants, who had been beating his horses mercilessly, asked each of us in turn if he could buy ours to replace his ‘worthless nags’. Perhaps an obscene amount of gold could have convinced me to do so, but nothing this fellow was going to spend. Conrad sought to find a different way of solving the problem by healing the boorish fellow’s poor horses. The merchant scoffed and continued to beat them regularly. Conrad had indicated that he did not expect the animals to live much longer. Not too long after telling me I should offer to buy the merchant’s mistreated animals, Conrad set the fool’s wagon on fire. I still haven’t sorted out in my head how that was supposed to work out. Whatever the original plan, it turned into quite a fiasco. The merchant began beating the wagon driver, Nuri put the idiot to sleep for beating his servant, and then the merchant’s guards attacked us. Taking out the martial guard, who appeared to be a knight of some sort, was easy enough, but the mage went invisible right after taking a nasty arrow from Rhumor. In the end the mage acquiesced when Nuri pointed out that everyone was still alive and merely asleep – including the foolish knight that had drawn his sword on us in the first place. The net result for the boorish merchant was the caravan’s leader telling him he would be left behind the next town we came to. Nuri went off to convince her employer to give a ride to the beleaguered wagon driver that had been whipped. All in all it was a most bizarre evening. I wonder if all large caravan trips are like this? We are probably less than a quarter of way into this long journey...

Liches Give Stitches, and other Horrors of the Dark
22 of Flamerule

22nd of Flamerule (Part II)   After riding the high of adrenaline that came from the intense fight with the half-dragon and his mighty minions we set about the task of investigating the room. Rhumor began inspecting for traps. Conrad was naturally drawn to the huge reliefs carved into the stone walls, and kept going on about volcanoes and holes in the wall. As it turned out, this was most fortuitous since Rhumor did find a trap that had been rigged to the small chest, and those holes in the wall were no doubt part of the contraption. After making a sketch of the reliefs, Conrad retreated to the hallway with Grok, Nuri, and myself to allow Rhumor to attempt to disarm the trap. Thankfully Rhumor had no issue getting the chest open, and inside was nice collection of precious gems and jewelry. He had also discovered a satchel bag that must have accidentally been dropped by its owner in their haste to leave.   We traced our steps back to the storage room we had seen earlier. It was the only place we had been thus far that had a single entrance and exit, and seemed to be the best option for getting a quick breather in. The satchel bag appeared to been owned by Frulam Mondath, and inside we found some unique potions to facilitate the benefits of a full night’s sleep, but in a short span of about an hour or so. There was also a letter to Frulam from Rezmir. It has been difficult to piece things together with the limited information we have, but I believe the hierarchy of the cult’s structure looks something like this, starting from the bottom: Langdedrosa Cyanwrath (now deceased at the hands of Grok), Frulam Mondath (was in charge of the camp we infiltrated), Rezmir (appears to be in charge of more than one local group Severin (the letter from Rezmir to Frulam was the first instance we have heard this name). The name Rath Modar was mentioned in the letter as well (as the creator of the potions), but there were no clues as to where on the totem pole this individual sits or if they are simply an alchemist working for the cult.   There were only two vials of this potion of resting, and after a fair bit of arguing, it was finally decided that Grok and Nuri should be the ones to drink them. Most of this disagreement came in the form of needing to convince Nuri that she should be one of the two. I’m not certain I understand her logic, unless she was simply scared to drink the stuff (which in truth, is understandable). In the end, it all worked out fairly well. Grok and Nuri were fully refreshed, Conrad seemed to perk up a bit and was able to cook a delightful meal for us that really lifted everyone’s spirits and constitution. We began heading back the way we had come, but noticed that the bodies of soldiers and kobolds we had killed had been moved. Despite Rhumor and I setting a watch, someone had sneaked by the entrance to the store room and been in the barracks. Bloody kobold tracks littered the floor. With this the team agreed to backtrack to the miniature mushroom forest to continue our exploration of the cave. We made it through the fungi without issue, avoiding the violet ones was easy enough. I even managed to grab a few medicinal fungi as we picked our way through. The next portion of the cave contained a few fungi, and a hoard of bats. And Stirges. Despite our best efforts to be quiet, the bats went berserk and began to swarm, and then the stirges used the chaos to attack us. It was so hard to see anything – even at the edge of the swarm like I was. One stirge flew right up to me, trying to stick its ugly needle-like beak into my arm. I dodged, and then sliced it in half as I turned and ran away from the swarming bats. Whilst trying to rid ourselves of the scourge of stirges we managed to attract the attention of some nearby kobolds. Nuri put them all to sleep and then Rhumor dispatched them.   Finally getting a good look at where we were was at once both distressing and relieving. Just below us, in a controlled pit were 3 drakes – and these appeared to be larger and more robust than what we had fought back in Greenest. They were howling and growling and roaring. Someone, I cannot recall who, had the idea to toss in some dead bats and kobolds to quiet the drakes down. It seemed to work, so the immediate noise problem had been abated. Meanwhile Rhumor crept up the tunnel where the kobolds had come from. He came back to report there more in the tunnel ahead, and he would goad them into coming our way. It worked, though none of us were prepared for the sheer number of the things. In the end there were well over a dozen dead kobolds – some with wings, and some without. Nuri’s spells were invaluable once again. For my part I had been planning to ambush kobolds coming out the tunnel mouth. It turned out to be a very flawed plan. Aside from contributing very little to the fight, I also managed to get stabbed by one of the winged kobolds – it packed a much bigger punch than its ground bound brethren as well as accidentally bringing some stalactites down on top of Grok.   With all of the kobolds finally cleared from this region of the cave, we killed the large drakes to ensure no one could double back on us and let them loose. Not the noblest of acts, but if those drakes were to be freed, we could have been in a world of hurt. Further on we discovered the meat locker. It occurred to me that we might be able to entice any new penned in drakes we encountered with food, so we grabbed a few of the freshest looking deer legs. Adjacent to this room, disturbingly, was the refuse pit. Who stores their food next to the garbage? Bits of shiny glinting things were visible from above, and so Grok, Rhumor, and Conrad hopped down to investigate. Perhaps it was my nerves from such a poor performance against the kobolds, but I opted to stay above for a bit, observing. Who knows what could be hiding in a giant pile of trash? After some time, the coast seemed to be truly clear, and I joined Conrad at the far wall of the pit – he was intently looking over some tools he’d discovered and runes on the wall. I then saw the symbols – the same ones that had been part of the magic door in the ruins that led us to the lich. My heart stopped, my brain froze, and I could not even begin to think about what the runes might mean. I quickly muttered something about them being useless and not meaning anything at all.   About this time a raucous began near the opposite end of the pit – Grok had found crevices in the wall and out came Troglodytes. Already in a state of fear and shock at the sight of the Lich’s symbols, I could not react. Grok was fighting, Rhumor dashed across the room to take a shot, Conrad hurled fire in his rage at this all-important discovery being interrupted. Nuri had blasted the two next to Conrad and I into a stinky paste, and put the others near Grok to sleep. I had done… nothing. As I write this, I feel shame at my inaction, having let my fear and terror of the mere memory of the lich affect me so. Once we are all safe, Grok, Rhumor, Conrad and I will need to review the findings there, and make sure Conrad understands the potential implications of opening, or even tampering with, that doorway. Conrad’s search for his professor just became profoundly important to the safety of our entire group, and quite possibly the entire Sword Coast.   On we pressed. We followed another tunnel that ended up being the alternate route out of the room where Cyanwrath’s body still remained. Down the only remaining unexplored path we went, and found ourselves in a cool, damp area. Rhumor scouted ahead and informed us there were two more of these larger drakes, but they were not penned in as before. They were guarding the dragon eggs – we had found them at last. I mirrored myself immediately in preparation for the coming fight. The rest of the team took positions, and Rhumor laid some caltrops – which regrettably informed the drakes of our presence. Up the stairs they came, ferociously attacking. Then I heard explosions. Just within my eyesight I could see Nuri and Grok trying to avoid fire bombs, coming from some unknown source. This fight, which was fast but brutal, was also dominated by Nuri’s magic. I faced off against one of the drakes by myself, but I was barely scratching the thing. My mirror images were doing their job well enough to keep me from harm, but Nuri, Nuri hurled orbs of thunder that shattered the one attacking me, and shook the one facing off against Grok to its core. The battle was over in moments. I know that more happened in that time, I know Rhumor was dealing deadly shots in the dark, and Conrad was playing his part – but I was too far away to see properly, and too distracted to understand the peril that some of my newfound friends had found themselves in.   With the drakes, and what were apparently more kobolds, all eliminated, Grok and I headed down to inspect the eggs, and see if there were any hidden treasures in this egg nest. As I rounded twin columns of stone my body froze once again. One of the stalactites moved. A giant yellow eye opened in front of me, followed by an enormous red maw filled with huge teeth. And this is how it ends. I die in a dragon-egg nest at the hands of some huge tentacled horror. I had heard tales from the drow in Luskan of these creatures, but I was not at all prepared for the reality of this monstrosity that was in front of me. To my astonishment, it spoke. In common no less. It sounded like it wanted food. Grok yelled out to give it the meat. I stumbled through my words, pulling a deer leg from my pack and tossing it to the monstrosity. It kept repeating the desire for food –so I told it about the meat storage room we had encountered. Blessedly it believed me, and began to slowly trundle off to find the meat storage area. After a vigorous discussion about what to do with these 3 huge black dragon eggs, which I was perfectly happy destroying, it was decided we should try to take as many with us as possible. Whether it be to sell, or ransom, or to be used in research. Conrad tried and tried to cram one of these huge eggs into the bag of holding, but it was just too big. Grok indicated he could carry two of them. None of the rest of us could even lift the damn things without being put off balance. So, I began hacking at the 3rd egg. As it cracked, the newborn infant black dragon fell out and began wailing like a child in the most disturbing way. I put it out of its misery with my greatsword. Rhumor and I then went to the grisly task of harvesting various bits and pieces. I now had a rather large collection of drake teeth, claws, and the teeth and claws of a baby black dragon. Perhaps I can make more jewelry out of all of this and sell them for enough gold to buy some half-plate armor.   I feel as though this day has been bittersweet in many ways. Up to the point where we had fought and defeated the half dragon and his berserkers I was sure of myself, and doing my part. The rest of the trek through the cave though, I felt… off. Fortunately for all of us Nuri was absolutely brilliant for that second half the cave, felling multiple creatures at every turn, saving my skin more than once. Perhaps the best thing to come out of this experience in the cave is that with so much fighting I feel as though I have come to understand my armor very intimately, and can move in it with much greater ease and grace. Seeing the incredible effectiveness of this sorceress with her devastating spells has also made me rethink what spells I should be focusing on, and how I might best contribute to the group’s efforts as we continue our journey – provided she decides to continue to travel with us.   For now, our path leads back to Greenest, where we need to return some of the town’s belongings, and find either horses to buy or some magical means of reaching Elturel. We have so much to share with Leosin now, and I am anxious to meet with Morgan.

The Cave of Triumph and Terror
22nd of Flamerule

22nd of Flamerule:   As I write this my breath comes heavy, my heart pounds rapidly, and I feel pride swelling in me at the marvel that has just occurred. We just finished a desperate battle – one that I freely admit I did not expect to be able to tell tale of. But, I am getting ahead of myself. This morning brought a hazy sunrise, owing I think to our proximity to the woods. It also brought another stag for us to take to the camp.   Rhumor went out ahead with the intent to skirt the perimeter of the camp up top, and we entered through the main trail. Shock hit us all as the camp came into view. More than half of the encampment had been burned to the ground. There were a few hunters milling about, and the provisions quartermaster was still there, but the camp was almost entirely abandoned. We learned that shortly after we left they gathered most of their things, and headed off, North by Northwest. A few remained behind and were operating out of the cave. Cyanwrath’s tent remained, but upon inspection it too had been emptied. This left us with the dread option of entering the cave. I’m not overfond of caves. Bad things tend to happen in caves.   With the Wood Elf in the lead, carefully picking his way in, we entered. There were a couple of cultist officers not too far into the entrance, and we had planned to surprise them and take them out before an alarm could be raised. Rhumor snuck off to eliminate the most distant of the pair. I know not what went wrong, but wrong it went. As our element of surprise melted away Grok charged right in, perhaps a bit overzealously, for while he menaced the cultist, he was unable to actually hurt him. Our initial encounter here would have been comical in how poorly executed it was were it not for the danger this posed us, and the portent of more dire things to come. We did, in the end, manage to kill off the two cultists without attracting any undue attention.   Proceeding on, Rhumor spotted a cleverly hidden passage that doubled back toward the cave entrance on one side. Upon investigation we found more cultists, and some guards. Once again we decided to attempt a surprise attack, and then funnel them through the narrow passage. Once again our element of surprise vanished. What foul luck has befallen us? This time I could hear it though, as Rhumor inadvertently kicked a rock, drawing the attention of the cultists inside. A rather feverish fight ensued where Rhumor was knocked unconscious and we struggled to keep effective ranged combat in the tight passage. The turning point was when Conrad brought our Wood Elf back to reality, who then dropped caltrops all across the passageway. Nearly all of the cultists and guards who came after us were stopped in their tracks from the caltrops giving us ample time to pick them off. Inside this larger chamber where the raiders had been, there were a score of beds, along with a note, some maps, and one tiny side chamber that was far more lavishly appointed. Whose is that I wondered? Certainly not anyone we had yet run across.   Yet another disguised passage presented itself, being rather apparent since it clearly used to be covered by a rug, which had been hastily tossed aside. Marvelous. Someone knows we are here and has run off to warn others. Following the path down we found ourselves in a larger cavern with enormous reliefs of dragons, including Tiamat, and a shrine. Most of the dragons appeared to be black dragons, which gives me pause. Lennithon is a blue, and Cyanwrath is a half-blue… why would the preponderance of these be black? Who is here, or hopefully who was here that would have been more kin to a black dragon? Perhaps the hatchery we learned of are of a black dragon? If that is the case, can we destroy it?   These ponderings had to wait. Just as I was mulling over these thoughts, heavy bootfalls echoed through the chamber. And there he was again. The enormous blue warrior that had felled Grok not 3 days past. Cyanwrath had 3 large warriors with him, berserkers by the look of them. Half congratulating and half mocking our half-orc companion on surviving the first encounter the half-dragon challenged Grok to one-on-one combat again, ordering his men to kill the rest of us.   As Grok raced toward the monstrous warrior, I brought forth 3 mirror images of myself, in hopes of confusing the berserkers, while also cursing one them. The first, whom I had cursed, did not fall for the ruse, his great axe digging into my armor. I managed a solid hit in return, as did Rhumor, and Nuri – and still this man stands! Another round of strikes and still the warrior stands, though barely it would seem. We desperately needed to eliminate these three so we could lend aid to Grok. Nuri began casting from both hands simultaneously. I was dodging every which way I could, and finally the berserkers began to struggle to discern which was the real me. I tried using Hadar’s tentacles to slow them down, but the effect was very minimal. Unfortunately all too quickly they eliminated my duplicate images – I would be defenseless soon. Is that mooing I hear? Really? They have cows down here? No time to think about that. After the first berserker was downed the other two fell into a rage, and began attacking wildly. Nuri continued pumping twinned lightning at them, and when my last duplicate vanished I took one last slash at my opponent and then teleported away, praying that the semi-ethereal state would hold long enough for this warrior to miss me. It worked! In his rage he ignored Nuri and ran for me, and as he wildly swung his great axe it passed right through me, harmlessly. About this time I saw Conrad fall having taken an axe to the chest. Then Rhumor finished off the warrior in front of me. I saw Nuri rush to Conrad, reviving him. Then my great fear – Cyanwrath, enraged by the deaths of his three berserkers, unleased his lightning. It wracked through Grok’s body and coursed through Conrad, just barely missing me altogether. I know not how, but both of my companions still stood, though clearly they were hurting badly. Conrad and his little fiery companion managed a small amount of damage to the half-dragon, and then Grok plunged his sword deep into Cyanwrath, felling the enormous warrior.   And here, with heavy breath, rapid heartbeats, and pride swelling do I write about the events leading up to the desperate battle that brought about the death of Langdedrosa Cyanwrath. As I gaze over at my companions I can see they are depleted. I have little left myself now. While impressed with our success, I fear for us still. Cyanwrath may have been the most dangerous creature in this cave, but I am certain whatever remains here that was worth the half-dragon staying behind for has more protection still, and likely from foes more formidable that a few cultists. My eyes flitted over to the reliefs carved into the cavern walls, at all of those black dragons, and I shudder at the thought of facing another dragonkin. If we make it out of here, I should ask the monk if he has come across any black dragonkin during his investigations. As I scrawl these notes I pray we find a place to take some rest before venturing further into this cave.

Revelations
21st of Flamerule

21st of Flamerule:   Rousing from my meditative state in the predawn I scrounged about for some coffee and took my steaming cup with me for a jaunt around town. I wanted to be on the hill for the sunrise. Having spent so much of my existence either in shadowy places, or hidden in tunnels, caves, or dark alleys, I cherish the beauty of the rising and setting sun. After the sun had fully broken on the horizon I turned to head back into the town proper, and from this vantage point noticed there to be quite a number of new arrivals during our absence. I decided to see if any new merchants might have anything useful for trade, and to inquire if there was anyone learned in town that might shed more light on my mysterious runes.   Regrettably none of the merchants carried anything outside of the mundane equipment one could find in nearly any shop. I did learn of a local wizard though, and upon announcing my intent to go visit, Nuri decided to join me. This visit did not go at all like I had planned. The wizard, whose named I learned was Lizzette, was… well, she was just rude. Once again Nuri proved her worth though. She and Lizzette seemed to be on very good terms, and with Nuri’s prodding Lizzette finally acquiesced, agreeing to look at the rubbings. She confirmed what Conrad had told me – their origin being that of Giants, and also noted that they were very, very old. Perhaps the most valuable tidbit of information she imparted though was that in township of Elturel there was a magic school, and its headmaster, one Morgan… something or rather, had a particular fascination with Giants, and would likely be able to tell me more.   Leosin wanted to meet again. Evidently having given more thought to what we had imparted to him the previous day regarding the toasts to “the dragon queen.” He believes it may be a reference to Tiamat, the legendary god of dragons that had been banished in a previous age. Lovely. Because an evil dragon isn’t bad enough. An evil god is not bad enough. Now we are talking about an evil dragon god. What have I stumbled into? No matter, evil is evil, and I must do what I can to help. The monk then implored us to go back to the raider camp to try and learn even more, which will in all likelihood involve us going into that cave… seriously? Oh well, at least there are no stairs there. I do despise stairs.   After a fair bit of discussion about how to get back into the camp at all, we finally decided that we should pose as hunters, bringing fresh meat in for the camp. I vaguely recall that being Grok’s idea, and frankly, it was a pretty good one, though I worried how believable our troupe would be. As we headed back to the raider camp and Conrad was able to find a spot where we could likely bag some venison. Rhumor managed to get one that evening. We decided to wait until morning to actually arrive at the camp. The night was warm and damp. I spent most of it ruminating over my runes, and trying not to come up with fantastical answers to the questions I now impatiently had for this headmaster Morgan.

Ethereal Me
20th of Flamerule

20th of Flamerule:   With the dawn came the slight, and somewhat haggard looking, form of the monk Leosin. He insisted on an immediate departure for Greenest. Conrad expended some of his energy to provide the monk with some healing, and with the former prisoners still severely weakened from their ordeal, the trek back was slow going, and blessedly uneventful. We did not learn much new information from Leosin, in fact I am not entirely certain we learned anything new from him at all. It was very disappointing truth be told, though I am glad the monk made it out.   As we skirted the outside of the Sharp Teeth I decided it would be an ideal time to test out my suspicions and within the cover of a copse of trees I teleported. It was true. I had not imagined it. For a few seconds after reappearing it was as though a part of me remained on the ethereal plane briefly, not fully here or there… simply remarkable! The remainder of the trip I pondered this new realization, and what it could mean.   Upon arriving back in Greenest things went about as one would expect. Grateful townsfolk for the return of friends and loved ones, grateful for the return of what few looted items we were able to return, and the promised payment from Governor Nighthill. We were put up in the inn overnight. Blessed respite in a comfortable space.

On dragons, monks, and shite
19th of Flamerule

19th of Flamerule: Groc answered the call – and I went down to watch, feeling pangs of guilt and shame at my cowardice. As combat was joined it was immediately evident that even Groc was grossly overmatched. This blue half-dragon warrior was bigger, faster, stronger, more skilled, and when he grew bored of Groc’s persistence he simply exhaled his devastating lightning breath over the brave half-orc until his body convulsed on the ground. Despite his defeat, I marveled at this half-orc’s courage. He moved with skill and grace during the fight, and showed unrelenting resilience to the mighty half-dragon’s powerful blows. I wonder if he could have prevailed were it not for his opponent’s breath weapon? Luckily the damage was not so severe as to be beyond healing, and clerics were able to bring him back without too much ado. This was especially fortuitous for me as I felt even greater pangs of guilt watching Groc endure the wracking lightning bolts coursing through his body… should it have been me? As promised, the half dragon Langderosa released his captives, and took his entourage to link up with the rest of his forces that were already marching North. Intriguing… a wicked half-dragon leader with a sense of honor. We four, Groc more than any, desperately needed true rest, and with the invading raiders well on their way out, we finally got it.   Around noon we awoke, feeling much refreshed, if a bit sore, and were summoned to meet with Governor Nighthill again, who has asked that we track the raiders. He wants to know their motives, where they are going, where they came from, and to look for any prisoners they may have taken captive – freeing them if possible. The Governor graciously issued an edict proclaiming that all merchants should sell their wares to us at a tremendous discount. Whilst we did not have all that much gold to spend in the first place, it certainly allowed us to stock up on needed provisions and even acquire a few uncommon items that would have otherwise been outside of our means. Sadly, none of those items were ones I could make real use of, save the nice shiny new collection of tools and kits I availed myself of, along with a bit of steel chain to begin work on my drake talon necklace. I was hopefully to find some finely crafted armor, but alas, all of it had been stolen by the raiders. Perhaps it is just as well, I likely could not have been able to afford truly well crafted armor in the first place – even if it was deeply discounted. Of course, as alluded to in the flash of a dream I had during my brush with death, I have no need to purchase a magical weapon – I can now simply summon it—such a boon! Shortly after awaking, and before my fellows stirred, I repeated the words of summoning from my dream, and behold! A magical greatsword appeared in my hand! Truly it is a thing of beauty, and of terror. The blade I held in my hands did give off the softest, faintest of purple glows that was reminiscent of my eldritch power, but it was not of the same intensity I saw in my dream. Perhaps I must learn to bring forth that power in another way, or perhaps it grows in strength as I learn more about it? In the meantime I have dismissed the mighty blade until I need it at the ready, no sense in walking about with extra weight whilst in town. Given the Governor’s request of us to track the raiders, Rhumor smartly pointed out that we could use the aid of a tracker. Quite right – who among us knows anything about tracking? Certainly not I, apparently not Rhumor, and I doubt either the Half Orc or the Archaeologist are familiar with the ways of the wilds and how to track foes. Fortunately Nighthill agreed to provide some to help us, granted only for purposes of tracking, not fighting or infiltrating, but that should be sufficient. Upon completion of our shopping spree, Escobert indicated that the governor had requested one last visit with us before we depart. Back up the stairs. Again. I truly do despise stairs. It’s a wonder my legs do not look like a mountain dwarf’s by now.   Nighthill introduced us to our tracking guide. She was not at all what I expected. Firstly, she was clearly no ranger, nor did she carry the bearing of a scout. As my mind raced through all of the possibilities of how an individual who neither scouted nor had an apparent care for the wilds was supposed to help us track our quarry, my ears perked at the mention of her origins. She is a local. She knows the region well, and the surrounding regions because she travels these roads a great deal. Brilliant. I just prayed she could keep quiet enough as neared our quarry so as not to alert them of our presence. The governor also alluded that she had other skills we would find useful. Nuri. Our new guide’s name is Nuri. She appears to be Elven heritage… but likely part elf. Her round facial features seem far too human to be of a full Elven line, and that hair, while lovely, is decidedly human. She actually reminds me a bit of some of the sailors I knew back in Luskan. So many women there with reddish coloration in their hair. I am a bit skeptical as to how effective she will be in tracking the raiders, but then I reminded myself of how I had similar thoughts about Conrad… Perhaps, and hopefully, I will be pleasantly surprised.   As we struck out northward following the initially easy to see tracks of the raiders, Nuri pointed out that there is a shortcut that follows the outer edge of the forest, the Wood of Sharp Teeth. A bit of panic crept in as I considered leaving the more obvious trail left behind by the raiders, but we desperately needed to make up for lost time, and Nuri does seem quite confident. During this initial time Nuri shared a bit about herself – she is a sorceress. That could be quite useful in many regards, if not tracking. At least Rhumor should feel more at ease with all of the extra hiding places the tree line will provide. Not too long after we set off, we encountered a severely injured man named Nessin. It seems he was part of a group of monks from Berdusk whose master has been investigating this Cult of the Dragon for some time now. His master, one called Leosin, disappeared during the attack on Greenest, and Nessin believes he was taken captive by the raiders. Nessin was also able to confirm we were heading in the right direction, and that there was a small group of stragglers that had made camp about half hour’s walk from our position. We did our best to patch up his wounds, and Nuri gave him directions to follow the shortcut and avoid the more traveled road. Rhumor ran ahead to scout things out, and then reported back. Nestled in an area with several boulders and a few trees were a dozen raiders. Eight kobolds and four cultists, and best of all, they were completely oblivious. The cultists foolishly left their weapons at the edge of camp. After discussing the potential options a bit, we settled on a three pronged approach. Groc and I would walk right in. I would be wearing a dragon mask and impersonate an officer. Groc would pretend to be my prisoner. Rhumor would swing west and try to steal the weapons right from under their noses. Nuri and Conrad would swing east and wait hidden in a copse of trees until the time was right. It started off flawlessly. The kobold who challenged my entry was kneeling soon after we entered their camp. Then it all fell apart. One of the cultists recognized us, and everything changed in an instant. I wasted no time in immediately running up to the nearest cultist and decapitated him. Rhumor rushed to the weapon stash and made off with what he could. Groc obliterated the foolish kobold who had been groveling at my feet just seconds before.   Then Nuri happened. Just after the body of the now headless cultist fell over I heard Nuri call out the word of a spell, and half the kobolds just fell right over. She’d rendered a third of their force unconscious with the utterance of a single word. Trailing just behind her Conrad came rushing in calling his mico-elemental into the fray. The micro-sized Groc made of fire appeared right smack in the middle of all of the kobolds, and half of them were simply incinerated by its arrival. Then it ran over to Groc and teleported the two of them away, incinerating nearly all of the remaining kobolds.   The cultists ran for their weapon stash. Two of them were able to find their weapons, the third looked around dumbfounded as his weapon had apparently disappeared. I had been running toward them, but was unable to intercept in time. Nuri, most conveniently, put the two armed warriors to sleep, and I swung around to the lone remaining cultist and slashed upward. He had apparently gained enough presence of mind to at least try to move out of the way, but I still caught him under the arm – not enough to take him out, but he was hurting. But only for a moment. As he spun to face me fully Rhumor put an arrow in his chest, and he collapsed.   We tied up the two sleepers just before the spell began to fade. This allowed us to interrogate them properly, learning of a formal rear guard (of which they were not a part), the rear guard’s standard operating procedures, as well as the location of the camp complete with a basic description. Information extracted, we removed the possibility of them reporting back to anyone, and took the two cleanest cultist robes we could find. Nuri donned one of these, and the other was reserved for Leosin should we manage to free him.   The rear guard sounded like it would be too well organized and formidable to try and fight directly. Rhumor scouted ahead and confirmed we should avoid them altogether, which we managed with aplomb. Upon arriving at the entrance to the raider camp, it became apparent that we could waltz right in. The camp was in chaos. We took advantage and began making our way past the hundreds of kobolds, mercenaries, cultists… such an array of foes. It’s a good thing we are being paid for this. While I abhor the evil I can sense in this camp… it feels oppressive in a way that not even Luskan under the thumb of the Drow felt. I want all of these folk free to make their own choices-devoid of any brainwashing, but this task feels like it may be beyond my current capabilities. After hearing about what the rear guard looked like, the risk feels very real here. Hopefully soon I will have more time and opportunity to learn more about my newfound powers, and perhaps answers, or even the right questions, regarding these runes that are always tugging at the edge of my thoughts.   There was a rather lively internal debate about how to get the information we were after, and in what order we should achieve it. Eventually we decided to try and locate Leosin first, and then attempt to gather information. About the time we located Leosin, with just enough time for Nuri to speak with him telepathically only to learn he did not want our aid, Rhumor noted the blue half-dragon approaching our position. The wood elf then ushered us circuitously out the Cyanwrath’s line of sight. At this point Rhumor grew very nervous. I really felt we had not achieved any of our goals, save perhaps that we could tell the governor that this band of raiders was many times the size any one of us might have estimated – I insisted we stay to find out more. We agreed a distraction could at least help the monk in whatever he might be planning, and should aid in our exit as well, but first we needed to try and learn a little more from the raiders. We chatted up some of the revelers and did manage to learn the monk was to be interrogated by Mondath herself. This was disconcerting. We also heard several high levels officers toasting to “the dragon queen,” whatever that meant. Before I could relay this information to everyone, Conrad managed to get himself assigned to shit shoveling detail. He apparently drew the attention of Lt. Ravenot who was in charge of said detail. And this is where everything really went, well, to shit. Groc, Nuri, and I stayed near the revelers to attempt to gather more information – hopeful that Conrad would rejoin us soon. He didn’t. After a couple of hours passed, combined with some commotion in the general direction Conrad had gone, we decided to see what had happened. We discovered Conrad had been added to the prisoner group. Rhumor vanished having simply said he would provide distraction.   Conrad was able to tell us where they had stashed his equipment, and Nuri knocked out the sole inhabitant of that tent with her sleeping spell. I then tied up the fellow and gagged him. Not too long after this a small concussive sound came from the far side of the encampment, and we could see fire and smoke. Regrettably only one guard left because of the distraction – still many more surrounded the prisoners. Nuri managed to convince several of them to go aid in the fire. She is quite full of surprises! We were now down just a few… 5 or 6 I think… guards. Conrad had asked for his potion of hill giant strength, and Nuri sent it to him with magic. Brilliant! But, as the moments ticked on, Conrad was still sitting there shackled. He needed the key. Great, where are we going to find the keys? Nuri checked a couple of guards, and asked me to check the cultist in the tent. He had them! What a stroke of luck! About the time Conrad got his shackles unlocked, the fire began to spread, and another guard ran off to aid. Oh for the luck to hold! Alas, it did not. Conrad was spotted as he tried to sneak away from the prisoner holding area. We all sprang to action. I teleported in between two of the guards and let them get a thrashing from Hadar’s tentacles. I must have been tired, but I could swear I was able to partially see through my arms as I called forth the tentacles. It was a most strange sensation. It had been a very long day though… In any event, my spell was not quite enough to knock them out. Nuri then released an unbelievably large barrage of fire bolts and took out the two guards I’d started in on, as well as severely damaging a third. Groc shot another guard and then Conrad released his motes of fire to finish them off.   Apparently Conrad had, after freeing himself, handed the keys over to another prisoner. About this time multiple prisoners began to get up to run away. And then it dawned on me – we now had to get ourselves out along with twice our number in prisoners. Adrenaline still coursing through me I frantically looked around for a solution, and there it was. The same thing that got us in this mess was going to help get us out: Shit. Or, more precisely, the buckets the shit was in. We all grabbed buckets to ostensibly carry water for helping put out the fire.   By some small miracle, and with some strategic maneuvering through the camp, we managed to get out without so much as a word from any of the raiders. We had not even made it to the rendezvous point when Rhumor caught up to us. I’d guess he’d been shadowing us before we even made it out the camp, but who is to know with that one. I was a bit surprised that no one made protest about the decision to stay at the rendezvous till morning rather than make straight for Greenest, but am glad for it. The prisoners we had freed were in rough shape, and I truly desired to converse with Leosin.   After a refreshing, but still watchful, meditation, I grew restless. My mind swirled with questions, and I made a mental note to spend some time meditating on the nature of my new sword to better understand its properties, and to try teleporting again during our journey back to Greenest. I simply could not shake the image of my semi-translucent arms. Since we had a few hours yet before sunrise, I pulled the bit of steel chain out of pouch along with my jeweler’s tools and the drakes’ teeth. Under the light of a half moon this warm summer night I began the delicate process of boring holes into the teeth, and then smoothing out the sharp edges of the hole’s entry and exit points to prevent the chain from catching once threaded. The trickiest part of this turned out to be achieving a semblance of symmetry in how the large teeth would fall once the necklace was assembled. I believe I managed a respectable effort for my first attempt at jewelry. I shall have to be mindful of when and where I wear this, but it does bring me a secret smile.

Greenest is the Blackest
18th of Flamerule, 1486

We arrived in Greenest only to discover it is under attack. Black smoke billowing everywhere, fire rages, screaming and shouting can faintly be heard from our hilltop approach. Great, because our journey has been far too boring already! Of course my idea of excitement does not include seeing a real live dragon. Conrad seems to think it’s a blue dragon. Wonderful, like it really matters right now. I kept thinking, ‘it could be pink with polka dots and glowing in the dark – we are not heroes, no way we are fighting a fucking dragon.’ But then an old man came stumbling up the hillside. He’s wounded (with wounds clearly not from a dragon). The entire town is under siege from raiders as well. Okay… well, I cannot do anything about a dragon, but I can sure put a hurt on some raiders. Off we went! We rushed down the hillside to find some kobolds raiding the outskirt homesteads. Aiding the kobolds were some drakes. I wish I could say we dispatched them with ease, but it took some doing. Once again, Rhumor’s sneaky longbow shots made the difference in this encounter. Perhaps the most astounding though was this archaeologist. Fire sprang from him and injured some kobolds. Certainly he is no wizard, but perhaps he is not completely useless after all. The old gentlemen whose house we just saved was so grateful he told us of a secret underground entrance to gain access to the town’s keep. Along our way we encountered a large band of kobolds who were facing off with a family – including several children. As Groc distracted the main group, I positioned myself to appear just behind the kobold who was trying to use one of the children as a shield, and relieved the kobold of his burden, that is to say, his puny brain was relieved of the rest of his body as I beheaded him. Conrad and Rhumor dispatched more of the foolish creatures. We managed to save the entire family, and convinced them to follow us to the hidden tunnel leading to the Keep. Inside the hidden (and apparently long forgotten) tunnel, we encountered rats. Hundreds of rats. Rats swarming everywhere. Not even Luskan’s sewers had this many rats. Astoundingly difficult to eradicate, we did finally manage to overcome the throngs of rats that assailed us. Just as we began to breathe again, a wizard appeared and bade us to follow him the rest of the way to the Keep. The wizard, one Drake Nagus, took us to meet the commander of the keep, Escobert the Red, along with the town Governor, Governor Nighthill. Nighthill implored us to help rescue citizens and a priest from the town Temple. With nothing more than a few healing spells to soothe our wounds, we rushed off to see what we could do – joined this time by the wizard, who seemed none too happy to be accompanying us. As we approached the Temple it became evident we needed a plan. Scouting performed by Rhumor revealed a small group of raiders at the back of the Temple attempting to set fire to the stone structure. A little ways up the street from the front entrance approached a larger continent that included a human in plain but distinct garb with a very curious mask all leading a battering ram. Lastly, some sort of patrol appeared to be circling the temple. The back seemed liked the best option. We began the surprise attack with me. I teleported directly into their midst and obliterated nearly every one of them. The rest of the team picked off the survivors of my initial strike and we began trying to convince the terrified citizens inside to come out and follow us to safety. It took too long. By the time we convinced them to leave the battering ram was already at work on the front door. Rhumor attempted to distract them, but apparently to no avail. Soon, the entirety of the two remaining raider forces were inside the temple ground walls and attacking. Conrad and Groc were inside the Temple trying to secure the exit for the priest, Rhumor was near the front trying to distract, and the wizard Nagus and I were attempting to secure the escape for the townsfolk all by ourselves behind the temple. I took an unlucky shot to my chest from a crossbow that nearly ended me. One of the townsmen was slain. Finally Groc and Conrad emerged from the temple and aided in killing the rest of the raiders. Hurting, wounded, exhausted, we made our way back to the secret tunnel to the keep. Nighthill was thrilled at our success. (Success? Nearly everyone died!). Well, perhaps a bit dramatic. I nearly died. And several townfolk nearly died. From the report Conrad gave, Groc nearly died. We may have been overmatched at the Temple, and simply gotten lucky. I’ll take lucky. We did manage to capture, rather than kill, a commanding officer of this ‘cult’. Interrogation proved minimally useful. They serve dragons (big surprise), and they are gathering treasure for the dragons (again, big surprise). He did name his cult, though not terribly helpful at this point. And he let slip the names of a few real leaders, which is quite helpful. He either could not, or would not, say where they are based out of. While a real rest would have been in order, we did not have that luxury. Shortly after the interrogation and a short breather, the governor asked us to go save the town mill. Well, everyone needs to eat, right? Who burns down a mill, really? Oh well. Just before leaving the priest we saved gave us a tremendous gift: A bag of holding, which also contained a magical rope. Off we went again. Carefully approaching the Mill revealed that there was something afoot. Cultists were prancing about like a bunch of nancies, but not actually doing anything. Well, we couldn’t give them the opportunity to do anything. So, to the mattresses! Dispatching this bunch of pansy cultist proved fairly easy. My initial surprise attack was not nearly as successful as I would have hoped, but Conrad, that strange archaeologist, brought forth a tiny little fire elemental… or something like one. It kept appearing and disappearing all over the place, and each time it did it would set fire to anyone foolish enough to be nearby! This is when Conrad and Rhumor both noticed that there were more inside the mill – waiting, in ambush. Weird. Anyway, we went back and forth a lot bout how to handle this situation until Rhumor grew tired of waiting and broke a window, hoping to strike them from outside and draw them out. Well, it half worked. They poured out – most of them came out on the side of the building Rhumor, Nagus, and I were at. They had us outnumbered more than 2 to 1. Before Nagus was able to do anything at all he was shot with a crossbow and then took a spear to the gut – he was done. I would have tried to stabilize him if I had not been trying to fend off three mercenaries that were beginning to surround me. More and more kept coming. As I watched Rhumor drop some caltrops then rush away, (taking out a cultist as he ran), I realized I had little hope of surviving this encounter. In a desperate attempt to turn the tide I rushed into the center of the mob of mercenaries and cultists and summoned the Arms of Hadar. The tentacles thrashed and thwacked all of them… but not a single foe fell. I was still surrounded by a half dozen or more enemies, with no more help in sight. I managed to dodge and parry some, but took a nasty hit just before getting a single strike off with my longsword, felling the brutish mercenary who had speared Nagus, all of this only to feel the keen sting of a spear in my side, and all went black. When I awoke a cultist still stood nearby, with Conrad’s smiling face looking down on me. I could just make out the look of terror in Cultist’s eyes before he fell. He was apparently the last. Conrad rushed to aid Nagus, but it was too late, Drake Nagus was gone forever. While Drake and I had fared poorly against the mercenaries and cultist’s that assailed us, I learned that Groc and Conrad, with the aid of his mico-sized fire elemental, had easily obliterated the array of foes that had exited the other side of the building. Conrad is definitely more than he appears to be, and Groc is certainly proving to be a most able warrior. I must spend some time learning from him, it could prove useful s I clearly need more training with my blade. The strangest thing did happen to me though, just before I was felled: A surge of inspiration hit me, and I realized I could (and decidedly should) be calling my weapon to my aid from another plane, rather than wielding some man-made simpleton’s craft. Perhaps Groc can better instruct me over time on how to best use a larger weapon to my advantage. During my brief time of consciousness I dreamt of a tremendous greatsword, wreathed in the same purple eldritch power that flows through me… I will need to meditate on this. Back at the keep we received heros’ welcomes, and a bit of respite…just an hour or two. While Rhumor went off in search of more information from his underworld connections, Conrad, Groc, and I sat in a secluded portion of the keep chatting lightly. I decided to take a big risk. I showed Conrad a copy of my rune rubbings, in hopes that his learned background might prove useful in revealing some of their secrets. He was not able to provide me with much new information, but he was able to identify their origins – that of Giants! It is an interesting twist, and one that I will have to follow up on and learn more about when the opportunity presents itself. Naturally our time of respite was limited. The Governor called on us, again. A moderate sized detachment of the raiders was approaching the keep, whilst the rest of their group was coordinating an orderly exit to the South. A strange tactic if they intended to attack in force… Using a spyglass Escobert handed me I immediately noted the leader of this troupe detachment. An enormous creature! Very Draconian features, but decidedly humanoid, he could only be a half-dragon. He called out from the ground, demanding a champion be sent forth to do single combat with him else he would murder the hostages he was dragging along. I felt the urge to accept the challenge, but I knew I was woefully overmatched. The blue half-dragon promised to release the hostages in exchange for an honorable combatant – regardless of the outcome. I felt inclined to believe him, but was too afraid to accept. I am not ready. I have not learned how to defend well enough again a foe of such might. I need more training, and armor. Despite my repeated requests for access to better armor the commander either had access to zero resources, or he simply did not care. Or perhaps he simply did not believe it would be of benefit. It is hard to believe that none of his soldiers were equipped thus, but I digress. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon….  

Goblins and Wargs and Minotaurs, oh my!
16th of Flamerule, 1486

The events leading up to how I actually arrived in Greenest were such that there was not really time to record what happened in the previous few days. I have done my best to, for posterity, note the events that transpired. We had been caravanning down to Greenest with a number of merchants and others who, like us, were looking forward to attending the festival in Greenest. I’d spent so much time on the road now I feel as though I’ve forgotten much. It has been months since I left Luskan, but at least I know I am far from my former masters. Though our parting was amicable, they still give me the shivers when I think of them. A few weeks ago some other travelers joined the caravan. Notably a Wood Elf who simply calls himself Rhumor, a half-orc named Groc, and a Celestial Cleric named Gawainel, who through no fault of his actions, makes me exceedingly uncomfortable. Whether through sheer boredom of the long journey, or the will of some unrevealed diety, we 4 have become strong acquaintances. An attack. Swift, efficient, deadly. For reasons I cannot comprehend a band of Goblins has captured us. Yes, it makes sense they would attack. And yes, it makes sense they would plunder. It is beyond my understanding why they let us live once we were knocked unconscious by their magical potions. Likely I will never know. In any event, the 4 of us awoke in a strange place. Initially beginning to come to while still on some sort of moving platform that was lowering us into the earth, deep into the earth. Just before regaining my faculties in full I watched as the platform, which we four had been removed from, rise back up and up and up – and then screams, followed by the platform along with a single goblin come crashing down. I can only guess at the dozens, or perhaps hundreds, of feet it must have fallen. Now alone in a strange Antechamber, the four of us managed to free ourselves of our bonds and take stock of our situation. We are far too deep in the ground to hope of climbing out, and the ropes to the platform are not even within eyesight. The room we find ourselves in contains statues of surprisingly exquisite detail-clearly not the work of goblins. Depicted are 3 individuals that appear to have had some importance, though none of us have any idea who they are, or might have been. As we carefully picked our route (the only route we have to choose at this point), through this underground structure, we encountered Goblins and a couple of Wargs. One of the rooms contained an elaborate alter of sorts, and a clearly magical in nature puzzle door. Once we had dispatched all of the goblin denizens who had squatted here, we were able to solve the puzzle and enter a new chamber which contained a most peculiar portal. We were greeted by Undead. Some unidentifiable guardians and skeletons attacked us. We were able to dispatch them with ease… But then came the Lich. I’ve seen some formidable foes in my time, but never anything that exuded such evil, such power. Fortunately for us the Lich seemed to think we were not worth its time, and it sicked its pet skeletal minotaur on us instead as it went back through the portal for, well, who knows what. Here in this ritualistic chamber with a portal we fought. I stood at one end of the full room-length ritual table, with Rhumor opposite me. Groc and Gawainel faced off with the Minotaur directly. The Minotaur repeatedly striking down Groc to the ground, with the Cleric bringing him back each time. I sent forth the force the of eldritch blast over and over. Rhumor let fly arrow after arrow. Largely due to the sneaky angle which Rhumor brilliantly achieved, the skelatal minotaur fell. Gawainel rushed to remove the puzzle pieces that had opened the portal as the Lich screamed in defiance from afar. Then, the entire underground complex began to tremble, and shake, and break apart. We four ran for the only other door in the ritual chamber. Upon using the puzzle pieces again we managed to reveal an impossibly long exit stair, and rushed as fast as we could up, except for Gawainel. He rushed back toward the portal. We know not if he faced off with the Lich, or if he perished under the falling rock and stone. Upon breaching the surface – back into the forest with the sun nearly down, we see goblins fleeing in every direction. Looking about frantically a voice calls out. Not that of a goblin, or one of my companions, but that of a human man. A simple looking fellow who we came to know as Conrad, an archaeologist. With the setting sun we decided it would be best to camp for the night, and hope that Gawainel would emerge from the ruins by some miracle of his god. Rhumor and I kept watch through the night, but no cleric came forth.

To Greenest
17th of Flamerule, 1486

Accepting the truth of our lost companion, we set out in the morning with this archeologist, Conrad. He too was heading to Greenest, though not for the purpose of attending the festival. Apparently he is searching for someone he has lost… I think he said his name was Silverpen or Silverton. Something like that. While there is greater safety in numbers, I wonder how this simple human could be of any use if we were attacked again. Conrad does appear to be a learned sort, in a way. He is constantly writing, and appears a bit more enamored of the surrounding flora and fauna than is typical of his race. Rhumor has continued to remain largely hidden, shadowing us as we proceed on to Greenest. For my part, I spent most of this day walking in silence, pontificating on the bizarre self-sacrifice of this paladin we had known, and then later in the day trying to think about how best to enjoy myself once we arrive at the festival. We should get to Greenest tomorrow. I admit, I am looking forward to a real bed, and some good wine or at least some good ale.
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Character
World
Mors Draconum Malus: Compact of the Wyrmwrought
campaigns
A Tyranny of Dragons
Category
The Party
Author
GreyNoton
Publication Date
14 Aug, 2023
Creation Date
14 Aug, 2023
Last Update Date
19 Dec, 2023
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