Dear Journal,
It would technically be inaccurate to say that I awoke yesterday morning, but something did. I have never felt so invigorated. I can hear him everywhere! His song blows in the breeze. His encouraging whispers echo in the settling stone walls. We are close. I can feel the mental assault of the Tear. The foul aura, even this close, pales in comparison to my burst of determination and focus.
After we gathered ourselves, Alyana stepped cautiously into the hallway where she stumbled upon three patrolling demons. She led them into the hallway outside our resting place, giving us the advantage. Here, the brave Diogi held them at bay while we pelted them with a barrage of arrows and magic. All was going well until we were flaked by two molten behemoths in an adjacent room. Luckily our raving mad sorcerer and his unpredictable orb transformed one of the beasts into a harmless sheep. Thanks to this improbable act, and a nearby pit, we were able to quell the beasts.
Alyana investigated another nearby hallway which led to a series of chambers covered in rancid flesh. A hulking, zombified monstrosity lurked within one of these chambers, stuffing his maw with the strewn chunks of meat. She wisely lured him into a narrow hallway, where his vain attempt to spawn a gang of meaty mutations were easily dealt with. Our positioning was perfect. After he was dealt a considerable amount of damage, he retreated back into his chambers, where we chased him down and slew him.
Among the bloody mess, we found a leather helm which made us all very uncomfortable until, interestingly enough, it was placed upon Without's head. I find it ironic that one ominous entity can be neutralized by another.
Exploring further, we entered a crypt which seemed to predate our surroundings. The others wished to investigate the contents of sarcophagi that lined the walls. In the largest of these containers laid a skeletal figure clutching a large gem. The cobwebs and layers of untouched dust should have been warning enough. In a place crawling with enemy forces, this room must have been avoided for a reason.
As Alyana ripped the gem from the brittle, icy fingers, the skeleton quickly sat up. It cackled maniacally and threatened our lives. Its spirit manifested itself, along with several ghostly accomplices, intent on punishing us for our trespassing. We fell back to a more strategic position as Talos held the line, leaving him in a dangerous position. Soon they were upon them. Although I had suffered several devestating blow during the day, and was collateral damage for Without's damned orb again, I urged Talos to surrender his position to me. He focused his energy, and transported himself to my position as I appeared in his.
Now it was I who was in the precarious position. Though I was in dire straits, I had no reason for concern. The spark of divine lives within me, guiding my every move. I reminded these undead bastards of the power of Corellon Larethian, filling the room with scorching, radiant energy which tore away at their ghostly forms. At the reactive swipe of the first spirit to gather themselves, I pulled my cape around my body and instantly found myself behind the front line, among my allies. The ghosts did not last much longer.
I was now closer to unconsciousness than before, and my friends were just as weary. Barely able to stand, I dragged myself behind the others to a nearby room, where we scattered the bones from the crypt upon the floor of the two hallways which were the only entrances.
I was aroused from a deep mediation by the careless stumble over these bones, and the audible curses of a patrolling trio of Teiflings. Instantly, I was on my feet, firing my magic down the hallway as the others were shaken from their sleep. I knew we had to hold them at our entrance to maintain the advantage, so I consulted the ancient arcane powers to conjure a vengeful, shimmering blade to hold the front line. This tactic proved critical to our swift and effortless victory.
It was now vital that we rest, and luckily, we were able to recharge our bodies and minds.
The others are now stirring, and we will soon be on our way. I look forward to my next entry, Journal, for I know it will be the record of our taking this stronghold from Malachi and destroying the evil Tear. Wish us luck, Journal, and may Corellon's blessings shine down on us during this coming battle. Today, Malachi will taste the vengeance of the gods.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 10
Dear Journal,
I must admit, I am still disturbed at the losses of Terrion and Deirdre. They did not deserve their fate. They were brave. They gave their lives to make Icaria a safer place. I am finding it difficult to concentrate on much else. I must not dwell on the past, however. I will press on, honoring my fallen friends by completing this mission. We will find the Tear, destroy it, and punish Malachi for bringing this evil upon the world. By His light, they will not have died in vain.
Our backtracking proved to be tedious and dangerous. I am often too preoccupied with the divine powers I channel to remember my own magical abilities. I consulted the arcane powers to help us find our way back on the trail which led us here.
We came upon decrepit dirt road which eventually came to a fork. At the fork, in a rusted cage, hung a skeleton which animated at our arrival. He told us his master was awaiting our arrival, and was eager to help us. He then collapsed in a heap. After all that, he didn’t even bother to tell us which path to take at the fork.
Talos, Diesa, and I knew that anyone employing the undead were not to be trusted, but instead should be stopped. Unfortunately for our enemies, we picked the correct path. We came upon a clearing where sat an enormous stone. Here, the trap was sprung. Elomir, whom I had not previously had the honor of killing, stood reanimated as a corpse. Alongside ghosts and undead behemoths, he attempted to get the best of us.
When will the undead learn? No creatures of the darkness can stand the light of the divine. We made short work of Elomir once again. Hopefully this is the last we will see of this pest.
Pressing onward, we came upon a portal guarded by demonic insect creatures. They did not seem to enjoy our presence, but initially made no hostile moves. Elwoz spoke with a demon guarding the portal, and was convinced that they would allow us to pass unharmed.
I think the liquor is taking its toll on Elwoz. Why would anyone negotiate with a demon?
I forgot who stepped through the portal first, but as soon as we were separated, the monsters struck. One by one, we made it through the portal into a frigid wasteland.
Adrift on an ice flow, we found ourselves outnumbered and surrounded. Corellon's mercy was abound during that battle, for I managed to give swimming lessons to a few of our enemies while the rest of our band held their own.
As we began to gain the upper hand, Without, who today walked and spoke like ghoul, commanded his orb to act. Before I could blink, a catfish flipped upon the ice where a demon once stood. It was then that our canine companion gobbled him up. I am apprehensive and intrigued at this object, and I pray I do not fall out of favor with it.
We pressed onward over the ice toward a frozen cliff side on which stands an impressive fortress. Alyana and Corath scouted ahead and found an entrance through a vent well over 20 cubits high on the cliff's edifice. We were spotted, however, by sentries stationed atop the plateau. A horrible insect flew down to greet us, only to have Without's “eye” turn this creature into a fish, which fell to the icy waters below. Needless to say, this was quite convenient.
After dodging arrows, and hauling Talos and his lead armor up into the vents, we were able to find a safe room to rest. There is a gas in these halls which, though painful to breathe, seems to withdraw in the glow of firelight. Our torches aided us in our search for safety.
We have barricaded the nearest door, and I have been watching the hallway entrance to this room, which appears to be service quarters. We are definitely in the lower levels of the structure.
I must take my leave now, for I have yet to clear my mind and commune with my king. To be honest, I feel quite strange. Perhaps I am spending too much time among these abominations. On the other hand, I can see heat vapors pouring out from our little sorcerer friend. Perhaps my proximity to this orb he carries, or his reckless and untamed magic is the cause for my apprehension. I suppose we shall see.
May his light shine upon us and his blessings never cease. Until tomorrow, Journal.
Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 9
Dear Journal,
In the past two days, I have lost and gained allies and stood in the presence of a god. To keep from overwhelming you, Journal, with the highlights, I shall start at the beginning.
On the first day, we wandered the streets of Wellspring in search of more crime scenes. We were called to an alleyway by the sounds of gurgles and growls. Before we knew it, an abomination was upon us, and gave us quite a fight.
As we rested and tended to our injuries, the Lord of Dragons himself appeared to address his child Talos. He commanded Talos to seek out the Tear below the city. He even suggested two entrances to the underground chambers: through the sewers, or through a secret passage. He then suggested we speak with a sage in town who may know more.
It is rare that a deity intervenes so directly in our affairs. That's how I knew this quest was important. After all, that's how I know I am important.
We decided to seek out the old man and hear his secrets. So, after speaking with the locals, we arrived at a tiny hovel where a snide young man answered the door, and called for the old man within. He was very impatient and hesitant to release any information until we agreed to help him with some home improvements once we vanquished the evil that ravaged this town. Upon hearing this, he warmed up to us and explained that the statue of Estered in the town square doubled as a passage to his secret laboratory.
Shortly afterward, we found ourselves creeping into the tunnels below, where we stumbled upon several thralls and an assassin. We were struggling in this battle when a little Halfling sorcerer wandered into the battle. His every step, though quick and nimble, erupted in a boom as he scurried into the room and began blasting our enemies with wild, uncontrolled magic.
Though the assassin escaped, we searched the area, where I found some interesting scraps of paper. We ventured further to a room split by a trench of slow moving, viscous sewage and a rusted water whee. We were attacked by a gang of mutated humanoids and a terrible amphibious beast. Luckily, we were able to get the waterwheel spinning and I shoved several of the monsters into the wheel where they would become entangled and drown in filth.
We took refuge in a hidden room to rest. Our new friend introduced himself, though I have forgotten his name. He said people who knew him called him "Without." This little man, who spoke in an alarmingly loud voice, intrigued and disturbed me. He's quite dangerous, no matter his intent. He carried with him an orb which he calls his "Wandering Eye". He claims it is sentient. He might be mad.
I had just finished my meditation when we were startled by a loud roar. I urged the others to rest a while longer as I stood alert awaiting any dangers that threatened us. Luckily, nothing else threatened us until the others had fully rested. Incidentally, we all had visions of an ominous red orb as we rested, and, when we were finally ready to move out, we saw that all but Terrion and I had mutated during our rest.
We pressed on to find the mind-flayer, and after a short battle with his gelatinous sentry, finally made it to his chamber. We battled his lackeys for a while until he appeared, and we then threw everything we had at him. In his attempt to escape, Without triggered the power of the orb, and nearly killed us all with a wall of scorching flame. The sorcerer was zipping around the room, speaking too fast for anyone to comprehend, then, all of a sudden, there's fire all around us. I must remember to have a talk with our new friend. We finally defeated the mind-flayer, but as he died, he cursed us for stealing the Tear.
Then it hit me: the scream during our rest! Someone had gotten to the Tear before us. I don't remember my feet ever hitting the ground. I tore through the halls of the sewers and up the stairs into the streets. I burst through the doors of the Mindspire, and fell at her side. It was Dierdre, lying mutated and beaten beside a fluctuating portal. Her ritual had completed, and she had gotten too close to the Tear and suffered its ill effects. As she lay in my arms, she said the Tear was snatched from her by agents bearing the red hand of Malachi.
It was then that Talos struck her dead. In my moment of anguish, I almost lashed out at his impulsive piety, but composed myself at the though of the mercy she had just been given. She needn't suffer anymore. I laid her on the altar of Ioun. He will be proud of the lengths she went to serve him. I will miss her greatly.
The portal was a passage to the Shadowfel. There was no turning back. Alyana and Diogi led the way. We wandered around the town square of this distorted Wellspring, where the tower was but a heap of rubble and the street's cobblestones stuck out from the earth in disarray. Finding little to go on, we allowed Alyana to track our prey.
We followed a faint trail into the nearby dead forest where we were ambushed by wild creatures of the Shadowfel. Skeletons, wisps, and harpies attempted to make quick work of us, but were struck down. Talos and I take great joy in punishing the undead.
We pressed onward until we ran across a few gravestones from an ancient war. Our diversion was not without consequences, however. Our curiosity caused us to lose the trail, so we had to backtrack.
As we retraced our steps, we came across a Lich wizard and a band of ghost soldiers. Their attire was unfamiliar and seemed ancient. We fought as hard as we could, but the Lich was powerful. As dealt the final blow, he erupted into a fine powder.
When the dust settled, we saw that we had lost Terrion. The punishment he endured was too severe. Even in death, his spirit endured. I could sense the life force in him clinging to this world. He was a fierce warrior, and I am proud to have stood beside him.
Talos said a short prayer as we laid him to rest in a hastily prepared grave. It was here we decided to sleep for the night.
As I sat beside Terrion's grave in mediation and prayer, I was alerted by moaning and scratching coming from a nearby grave. I alerted the others, and we stood ready as a Dwarven holy man awkwardly dug himself out of the ground. We interrogated him immediately, weapons ready, and minds on edge. He introduced himself as "Diesa", a cleric of Moradin, sent by the father of the Dwarfs himself in pursuit of the Lich we just neutralized.
We sat late into the evening talking, until the others surrendered to their exhaustion. Dawn is breaking now, so I must end my rambling. May Corellon bless me and give me strength. These are trying times.
May we meet again, Journal.
In the past two days, I have lost and gained allies and stood in the presence of a god. To keep from overwhelming you, Journal, with the highlights, I shall start at the beginning.
On the first day, we wandered the streets of Wellspring in search of more crime scenes. We were called to an alleyway by the sounds of gurgles and growls. Before we knew it, an abomination was upon us, and gave us quite a fight.
As we rested and tended to our injuries, the Lord of Dragons himself appeared to address his child Talos. He commanded Talos to seek out the Tear below the city. He even suggested two entrances to the underground chambers: through the sewers, or through a secret passage. He then suggested we speak with a sage in town who may know more.
It is rare that a deity intervenes so directly in our affairs. That's how I knew this quest was important. After all, that's how I know I am important.
We decided to seek out the old man and hear his secrets. So, after speaking with the locals, we arrived at a tiny hovel where a snide young man answered the door, and called for the old man within. He was very impatient and hesitant to release any information until we agreed to help him with some home improvements once we vanquished the evil that ravaged this town. Upon hearing this, he warmed up to us and explained that the statue of Estered in the town square doubled as a passage to his secret laboratory.
Shortly afterward, we found ourselves creeping into the tunnels below, where we stumbled upon several thralls and an assassin. We were struggling in this battle when a little Halfling sorcerer wandered into the battle. His every step, though quick and nimble, erupted in a boom as he scurried into the room and began blasting our enemies with wild, uncontrolled magic.
Though the assassin escaped, we searched the area, where I found some interesting scraps of paper. We ventured further to a room split by a trench of slow moving, viscous sewage and a rusted water whee. We were attacked by a gang of mutated humanoids and a terrible amphibious beast. Luckily, we were able to get the waterwheel spinning and I shoved several of the monsters into the wheel where they would become entangled and drown in filth.
We took refuge in a hidden room to rest. Our new friend introduced himself, though I have forgotten his name. He said people who knew him called him "Without." This little man, who spoke in an alarmingly loud voice, intrigued and disturbed me. He's quite dangerous, no matter his intent. He carried with him an orb which he calls his "Wandering Eye". He claims it is sentient. He might be mad.
I had just finished my meditation when we were startled by a loud roar. I urged the others to rest a while longer as I stood alert awaiting any dangers that threatened us. Luckily, nothing else threatened us until the others had fully rested. Incidentally, we all had visions of an ominous red orb as we rested, and, when we were finally ready to move out, we saw that all but Terrion and I had mutated during our rest.
We pressed on to find the mind-flayer, and after a short battle with his gelatinous sentry, finally made it to his chamber. We battled his lackeys for a while until he appeared, and we then threw everything we had at him. In his attempt to escape, Without triggered the power of the orb, and nearly killed us all with a wall of scorching flame. The sorcerer was zipping around the room, speaking too fast for anyone to comprehend, then, all of a sudden, there's fire all around us. I must remember to have a talk with our new friend. We finally defeated the mind-flayer, but as he died, he cursed us for stealing the Tear.
Then it hit me: the scream during our rest! Someone had gotten to the Tear before us. I don't remember my feet ever hitting the ground. I tore through the halls of the sewers and up the stairs into the streets. I burst through the doors of the Mindspire, and fell at her side. It was Dierdre, lying mutated and beaten beside a fluctuating portal. Her ritual had completed, and she had gotten too close to the Tear and suffered its ill effects. As she lay in my arms, she said the Tear was snatched from her by agents bearing the red hand of Malachi.
It was then that Talos struck her dead. In my moment of anguish, I almost lashed out at his impulsive piety, but composed myself at the though of the mercy she had just been given. She needn't suffer anymore. I laid her on the altar of Ioun. He will be proud of the lengths she went to serve him. I will miss her greatly.
The portal was a passage to the Shadowfel. There was no turning back. Alyana and Diogi led the way. We wandered around the town square of this distorted Wellspring, where the tower was but a heap of rubble and the street's cobblestones stuck out from the earth in disarray. Finding little to go on, we allowed Alyana to track our prey.
We followed a faint trail into the nearby dead forest where we were ambushed by wild creatures of the Shadowfel. Skeletons, wisps, and harpies attempted to make quick work of us, but were struck down. Talos and I take great joy in punishing the undead.
We pressed onward until we ran across a few gravestones from an ancient war. Our diversion was not without consequences, however. Our curiosity caused us to lose the trail, so we had to backtrack.
As we retraced our steps, we came across a Lich wizard and a band of ghost soldiers. Their attire was unfamiliar and seemed ancient. We fought as hard as we could, but the Lich was powerful. As dealt the final blow, he erupted into a fine powder.
When the dust settled, we saw that we had lost Terrion. The punishment he endured was too severe. Even in death, his spirit endured. I could sense the life force in him clinging to this world. He was a fierce warrior, and I am proud to have stood beside him.
Talos said a short prayer as we laid him to rest in a hastily prepared grave. It was here we decided to sleep for the night.
As I sat beside Terrion's grave in mediation and prayer, I was alerted by moaning and scratching coming from a nearby grave. I alerted the others, and we stood ready as a Dwarven holy man awkwardly dug himself out of the ground. We interrogated him immediately, weapons ready, and minds on edge. He introduced himself as "Diesa", a cleric of Moradin, sent by the father of the Dwarfs himself in pursuit of the Lich we just neutralized.
We sat late into the evening talking, until the others surrendered to their exhaustion. Dawn is breaking now, so I must end my rambling. May Corellon bless me and give me strength. These are trying times.
May we meet again, Journal.
Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 8
Dear Journal,
In just over two days of traveling, I have heard enough of Terrion's flatulence jokes that, if written, would fill the fill all the kingdom's libraries. I would have written more, but each time I sat to meditate, the sounds of his expulsions and gruff snickering haunted me.
I sense that I am being accepted. Alyana no longer sneers and rolls her eyes when we make eye contact. Talos told me several stories of battle alongside Kuro the shy, but wise wizard, Stovokor, the mighty reptilian warlord and military tactician, and Vaarin, the acrobatic Teifling, whose abrupt disappearance came as a shock to the party. I even managed to have a conversation with Getty, through Elwoz, about wildflowers found in the swamplands of Elwoz's home before it managed to descend into a hilarious argument between Elwoz and Getty about euphoria-inducing mushrooms. If you close your eyes, it sounds as if he is a complete madman, arguing with the wind. Even Corath was less rude, though he spoke very little.
The joy this brought me explains the guilt I feel for what followed.
When we arrived at the gates of Wellspring, the guards were slaughtered, the gate was shattered, and dead bodies littered the streets, forming a path to the Guild District.
I immediately shot toward the Red Rooster to see if Deirdre was safe. The other decided to follow the trail of corpses. When I arrived, patrons were huddled under their tables, and the bartender was behind the bar, shaking so hard that the glasses and bottles atop the bar were making an enormous racket. I confronted the bartender, who told me that Deirdre was across the square in the Mindspire.
I was relieved to find her alone in the temple, deep in concentration. My presence alerted her, and she explained, after a little coaxing, that she was performing a ritual secret to followers of Ioun to locate the Tear. She assured me she would be safe and that my services weren't needed at the moment; so I ran to join the others.
When I arrived at the Guild District, my allies were severely battered, and barely fending off the attacks of a few grell. I fired a blast at one of the grell and my mind went silent. The desire to aid my comrades was the only thought I had, and healing energy erupted all around me, invigorating and rejuviating my friends. We then swiftly defeated the beasts. Interestingly enough, among the dead was Elomir of the Stormcrows.
I prefaced this by saying I would feel guilt about this event, and I do. I ignored an obvious and present danger to selfishly silence my fears. As a result, I left my friends at a disadvantage. Luckily, they have given me no indication of disappointment.
Corellon has placed me with these people for a reason. I need to better manage my priorities.
We went back to the Red Rooster, where we learned that a Nighthawk was staying there this evening. We convinced the patrons to vacate the building under the ruse that we were exterminating rats. The owner wouldn't want us going after a customer, but we had to get them to leave to minimize casualties if a battle ensued.
Upstairs, we startled a man with a prostitute, and another patron who was having a issue with an excessive and violent "evacuation". We took positions and burst into the Nighthawks room where sat the corpse of Sirus above a small empty box. Fearing his vessel may not be vacant, I fired upon the body, knocking its head from its shoulders.
Fortunately for us, I remembered Deirdre's spell to speak with the dead. Sirus was not very pleased to see us, and refused to give us any information on the location of the Tear of Ioun. We convinced him that I would give him safe passage to the underworld by reciting a special prayer to the Raven Queen. He complied and, after the prayer, his spirit vacated his body. I am not sure if the prayer will be effective, and I couldn't care less. We learned through the arcane spirit left in his body that a mindflayer killed Sirus and absconded with the Tear.
We decided to take to the streets in pursuit. We thought we might find others who might have seen the beast make its escape.
A crowd was gathered outside the Inn, listening to a man on a stage in the square railing against the local authorities for their incompetence and negligence which led to the scourge now infesting this town. The man was quickly gaining the support of the crowd, as they cheered after every grievance he screamed across the square. With the current situation in this town, a riot was the last thing we needed. We decided to take the stage, where we were able to convince the crowd that it was patience, vigilance, and rational thought that would help us to prevail. We explained that fear, anger, and chaos would only serve to aid the enemy and destroy this town from within. I am thankful that we did not have to defend ourselves against a crowd of rabid townspeople.
The last people to be near Sirus were the people we chased from the upstairs rooms of the Red Rooster. Talos was able to track the prostitute to her home. As we went to ask her what she knew, Talos and Terrion walked over and spoke to a few nearby guards. The woman was of no help. She was going mad and beginning to mutate, as many townspeople were. However, Talos was able to obtain a document allowing us to investigate any crime scene in the town. This would prove much more useful if we were able to deduce a pattern in the places the enemy chose to strike.
We searched two crime scenes. The first was at the home of a tailor, where the man was abducted in the night. A piece of cloth from the Shadowfel was found near the scene. The second was in a temple of Bahamut, where a ritual was performed which defaced the altar with blood. We found a bone dagger nearby, which is used by creatures of the Foulspawn.
Talos overheard townspeople speaking of a crime which had yet to be reported. They spoke of another abduction from a nearby apartment building. We rushed to investigate. As we searched the rooms, we heard four approaching shadow creatures, which we were able to ambush. They were difficult to pin down, but we managed to defeat them. Among the carnage we found an ominous orb and some sort of rune. We discerned that the orb was a portal to the Shadowfel. I am unsure of the rune's purpose.
We have once again collected at the Red Rooster for some much-needed rest. We did well today to find clues among the mess within the town. The Shadowfel is no holiday destination. Now that we have access to that twisted world, we must be very careful. The danger surrounding these events seem to be growing more and more each day. Consequently, so does our resolve.
I ask Corellon to watch over us in the coming day. Bless my companions for their patience and acceptance, and keep Deirdre out of harm's way. I will do everything I can to see to this, and glorify the name of The Divine.
Until tomorrow, Journal.
In just over two days of traveling, I have heard enough of Terrion's flatulence jokes that, if written, would fill the fill all the kingdom's libraries. I would have written more, but each time I sat to meditate, the sounds of his expulsions and gruff snickering haunted me.
I sense that I am being accepted. Alyana no longer sneers and rolls her eyes when we make eye contact. Talos told me several stories of battle alongside Kuro the shy, but wise wizard, Stovokor, the mighty reptilian warlord and military tactician, and Vaarin, the acrobatic Teifling, whose abrupt disappearance came as a shock to the party. I even managed to have a conversation with Getty, through Elwoz, about wildflowers found in the swamplands of Elwoz's home before it managed to descend into a hilarious argument between Elwoz and Getty about euphoria-inducing mushrooms. If you close your eyes, it sounds as if he is a complete madman, arguing with the wind. Even Corath was less rude, though he spoke very little.
The joy this brought me explains the guilt I feel for what followed.
When we arrived at the gates of Wellspring, the guards were slaughtered, the gate was shattered, and dead bodies littered the streets, forming a path to the Guild District.
I immediately shot toward the Red Rooster to see if Deirdre was safe. The other decided to follow the trail of corpses. When I arrived, patrons were huddled under their tables, and the bartender was behind the bar, shaking so hard that the glasses and bottles atop the bar were making an enormous racket. I confronted the bartender, who told me that Deirdre was across the square in the Mindspire.
I was relieved to find her alone in the temple, deep in concentration. My presence alerted her, and she explained, after a little coaxing, that she was performing a ritual secret to followers of Ioun to locate the Tear. She assured me she would be safe and that my services weren't needed at the moment; so I ran to join the others.
When I arrived at the Guild District, my allies were severely battered, and barely fending off the attacks of a few grell. I fired a blast at one of the grell and my mind went silent. The desire to aid my comrades was the only thought I had, and healing energy erupted all around me, invigorating and rejuviating my friends. We then swiftly defeated the beasts. Interestingly enough, among the dead was Elomir of the Stormcrows.
I prefaced this by saying I would feel guilt about this event, and I do. I ignored an obvious and present danger to selfishly silence my fears. As a result, I left my friends at a disadvantage. Luckily, they have given me no indication of disappointment.
Corellon has placed me with these people for a reason. I need to better manage my priorities.
We went back to the Red Rooster, where we learned that a Nighthawk was staying there this evening. We convinced the patrons to vacate the building under the ruse that we were exterminating rats. The owner wouldn't want us going after a customer, but we had to get them to leave to minimize casualties if a battle ensued.
Upstairs, we startled a man with a prostitute, and another patron who was having a issue with an excessive and violent "evacuation". We took positions and burst into the Nighthawks room where sat the corpse of Sirus above a small empty box. Fearing his vessel may not be vacant, I fired upon the body, knocking its head from its shoulders.
Fortunately for us, I remembered Deirdre's spell to speak with the dead. Sirus was not very pleased to see us, and refused to give us any information on the location of the Tear of Ioun. We convinced him that I would give him safe passage to the underworld by reciting a special prayer to the Raven Queen. He complied and, after the prayer, his spirit vacated his body. I am not sure if the prayer will be effective, and I couldn't care less. We learned through the arcane spirit left in his body that a mindflayer killed Sirus and absconded with the Tear.
We decided to take to the streets in pursuit. We thought we might find others who might have seen the beast make its escape.
A crowd was gathered outside the Inn, listening to a man on a stage in the square railing against the local authorities for their incompetence and negligence which led to the scourge now infesting this town. The man was quickly gaining the support of the crowd, as they cheered after every grievance he screamed across the square. With the current situation in this town, a riot was the last thing we needed. We decided to take the stage, where we were able to convince the crowd that it was patience, vigilance, and rational thought that would help us to prevail. We explained that fear, anger, and chaos would only serve to aid the enemy and destroy this town from within. I am thankful that we did not have to defend ourselves against a crowd of rabid townspeople.
The last people to be near Sirus were the people we chased from the upstairs rooms of the Red Rooster. Talos was able to track the prostitute to her home. As we went to ask her what she knew, Talos and Terrion walked over and spoke to a few nearby guards. The woman was of no help. She was going mad and beginning to mutate, as many townspeople were. However, Talos was able to obtain a document allowing us to investigate any crime scene in the town. This would prove much more useful if we were able to deduce a pattern in the places the enemy chose to strike.
We searched two crime scenes. The first was at the home of a tailor, where the man was abducted in the night. A piece of cloth from the Shadowfel was found near the scene. The second was in a temple of Bahamut, where a ritual was performed which defaced the altar with blood. We found a bone dagger nearby, which is used by creatures of the Foulspawn.
Talos overheard townspeople speaking of a crime which had yet to be reported. They spoke of another abduction from a nearby apartment building. We rushed to investigate. As we searched the rooms, we heard four approaching shadow creatures, which we were able to ambush. They were difficult to pin down, but we managed to defeat them. Among the carnage we found an ominous orb and some sort of rune. We discerned that the orb was a portal to the Shadowfel. I am unsure of the rune's purpose.
We have once again collected at the Red Rooster for some much-needed rest. We did well today to find clues among the mess within the town. The Shadowfel is no holiday destination. Now that we have access to that twisted world, we must be very careful. The danger surrounding these events seem to be growing more and more each day. Consequently, so does our resolve.
I ask Corellon to watch over us in the coming day. Bless my companions for their patience and acceptance, and keep Deirdre out of harm's way. I will do everything I can to see to this, and glorify the name of The Divine.
Until tomorrow, Journal.
Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 7
Dear Journal,
I have read in several texts that it is not the beholder's bite which should concern the warrior. It is the power the beast wields within its mind. Future texts may add me as a reference.
I was right to be wary of that vile place, and I am glad it's behind me. I am, however, glad to have been accompanied by my friends. During our skirmish with the beholder, I was flung into the torrential waterfall, plummeting over 100 feet to what I believed to be my doom. I did not feel my landing. It was as if a candle had been blown out. I saw the ground rushing up to greet me, and then, in flash, I opened my eyes to the sight of Alyana lying atop me. For a brief moment, I thought I was among the angels. She was quite a sight. Soaking wet and chest heaving, she would normally have sent me into a frenzy. Today, however, I saw the look of true concern as she shook me and commanded me to awaken. We were allies. We all were.
Apparently there had been quite the battle upstairs as Alyana and I made our way back up the cliff-side. Terrion faced toe-to-toe with a sorceress, and the others fought off a couple reptilian atrocities.
Battered and exhausted, we trudged upstairs where we encountered what turned out to be the very same Claude that Denva told us about. He stood among mangled bits of flesh, hacking away at corpses and laughing like a madman. Accompanying him was a gelatinous mound which seemed to be everywhere at once. Claude was a mere nusiance compared to his pet. After a few confusing and frustrating moments, we disposed of them both. Unfortunately, the tear was not found.
It was then we decided to leave this tower behind us. We were all severely battered and exhausted. In retrospect, I regret leaving Denva to her fate. It was a most unfortunate oversight which I believe will haunt our consciences for days to come.
I have picked up a few incantations over the years, though I have had little use for them until now. I've reassembled a few broken trinkets for appreciative townsfolk, and had the ancient magics guide my way through treacherous situations. Our path was littered with patrols of these horrific grimlock monstrosities. Having no desire to cross paths with them again. We followed the arcane hand for a few minutes as it guided us to safety.
Now we have taken refuge again with the kind Harrowfolk. It is comforting to be resting safely again.
As we crossed one of the steams, we had the chance to look back to the cliff-side and saw that the tower was gone. Where previously stood a decrepit structure now lingers the hanging mist of a roaring waterfall. Surely something greater than this Claude is at work here.
In the morning, we make the trek back to Wellspring. My confidence is renewed and spirit strengthened by the dedication of my friends. Whatever we encounter, we will overcome.
May His blessings rain down upon us.
I have read in several texts that it is not the beholder's bite which should concern the warrior. It is the power the beast wields within its mind. Future texts may add me as a reference.
I was right to be wary of that vile place, and I am glad it's behind me. I am, however, glad to have been accompanied by my friends. During our skirmish with the beholder, I was flung into the torrential waterfall, plummeting over 100 feet to what I believed to be my doom. I did not feel my landing. It was as if a candle had been blown out. I saw the ground rushing up to greet me, and then, in flash, I opened my eyes to the sight of Alyana lying atop me. For a brief moment, I thought I was among the angels. She was quite a sight. Soaking wet and chest heaving, she would normally have sent me into a frenzy. Today, however, I saw the look of true concern as she shook me and commanded me to awaken. We were allies. We all were.
Apparently there had been quite the battle upstairs as Alyana and I made our way back up the cliff-side. Terrion faced toe-to-toe with a sorceress, and the others fought off a couple reptilian atrocities.
Battered and exhausted, we trudged upstairs where we encountered what turned out to be the very same Claude that Denva told us about. He stood among mangled bits of flesh, hacking away at corpses and laughing like a madman. Accompanying him was a gelatinous mound which seemed to be everywhere at once. Claude was a mere nusiance compared to his pet. After a few confusing and frustrating moments, we disposed of them both. Unfortunately, the tear was not found.
It was then we decided to leave this tower behind us. We were all severely battered and exhausted. In retrospect, I regret leaving Denva to her fate. It was a most unfortunate oversight which I believe will haunt our consciences for days to come.
I have picked up a few incantations over the years, though I have had little use for them until now. I've reassembled a few broken trinkets for appreciative townsfolk, and had the ancient magics guide my way through treacherous situations. Our path was littered with patrols of these horrific grimlock monstrosities. Having no desire to cross paths with them again. We followed the arcane hand for a few minutes as it guided us to safety.
Now we have taken refuge again with the kind Harrowfolk. It is comforting to be resting safely again.
As we crossed one of the steams, we had the chance to look back to the cliff-side and saw that the tower was gone. Where previously stood a decrepit structure now lingers the hanging mist of a roaring waterfall. Surely something greater than this Claude is at work here.
In the morning, we make the trek back to Wellspring. My confidence is renewed and spirit strengthened by the dedication of my friends. Whatever we encounter, we will overcome.
May His blessings rain down upon us.
Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 6
Dear Journal,
As exhausted as I am, I am unable to rest at the moment. The stench of death fills this building, we have lost an ally, and I am uncertain of our safety in this room. I must chronicle this day before I meditate in case I never get the chance.
We have barred the door to a small room on the first floor of the Forlorn Tower, now known to be Temple Kaorti. The dilapidated four-story temple rests against the side of a cliff. The structure itself looks to be enough of a peril. We have already seen the power of the waterfall that rips through this building. There is literally nothing I like about this place.
Vaymeer and a few of his men led us safely to a trail which led to the tower. As smart as they were, they were still simple and superstitious, refusing to accompany us any further. As we climbed the treacherous cliff-side trail, we came upon the strewn bodies of Grimlocks. A few of these little monsters had become mutated and mangled. Four bodies rose by their innards and attacked us. Though several nearby ghouls wandered into the fight, we were able to dispose of these abominations with little effort.
I made my way to the side of the building to look around and assess any potential threats, joined by Alyana and Elwoz. I had not intended to venture further, but the allure of several peculiar statues and a large iron door captivated my two accomplices. Before I knew what was happening, the door was opened and we were in retreat from a flesh golem, sturge, and a mutated Dwarven assassin named Garren -- a Stormcrow. We struggled to dispose of these enemies, but ultimately prevailed. The Dwarf showed advanced stages of the same illness DuSaul and the Teifling musician were suffering. He was frantically accusing us of stealing the Tear of Ioun, a legendary treasure sacred to Ioun worshipers which became corrupted by the farrealm. Having completely lost his damned mind, he was impossible to reason with. We had to put him down. After the dust settled, I noticed we were one party member short.
As exhausted as I am, I am unable to rest at the moment. The stench of death fills this building, we have lost an ally, and I am uncertain of our safety in this room. I must chronicle this day before I meditate in case I never get the chance.
We have barred the door to a small room on the first floor of the Forlorn Tower, now known to be Temple Kaorti. The dilapidated four-story temple rests against the side of a cliff. The structure itself looks to be enough of a peril. We have already seen the power of the waterfall that rips through this building. There is literally nothing I like about this place.
Vaymeer and a few of his men led us safely to a trail which led to the tower. As smart as they were, they were still simple and superstitious, refusing to accompany us any further. As we climbed the treacherous cliff-side trail, we came upon the strewn bodies of Grimlocks. A few of these little monsters had become mutated and mangled. Four bodies rose by their innards and attacked us. Though several nearby ghouls wandered into the fight, we were able to dispose of these abominations with little effort.
I made my way to the side of the building to look around and assess any potential threats, joined by Alyana and Elwoz. I had not intended to venture further, but the allure of several peculiar statues and a large iron door captivated my two accomplices. Before I knew what was happening, the door was opened and we were in retreat from a flesh golem, sturge, and a mutated Dwarven assassin named Garren -- a Stormcrow. We struggled to dispose of these enemies, but ultimately prevailed. The Dwarf showed advanced stages of the same illness DuSaul and the Teifling musician were suffering. He was frantically accusing us of stealing the Tear of Ioun, a legendary treasure sacred to Ioun worshipers which became corrupted by the farrealm. Having completely lost his damned mind, he was impossible to reason with. We had to put him down. After the dust settled, I noticed we were one party member short.
Pushing further into the tower, we spotted the cleaned bones of the "legendary" Stovokor, or Balanos, or whatever. In a way, I am not surprised. He was not at all the valiant hero I had been led to believe. Though I am disappointed to have not spent more time with him, I do not mourn his passing, only the means of it. As a Deva, he has no doubt suffered death many times, but this must have been one of the more painful occurrences.
Lurking near his bones were several gricks which we defeated with relative ease, and what appeared to be a large glob of mucus, which caused much irritation.
As we explored further, we encountered another Stormcrow named Denva. She was, I'd say, midway between DuSaul and Garren in her transformation. Still somewhat aware, yet weakened and preoccupied. Accompanying her was an angry little grimlock, apparently under her control. Apparently her cooperation with us triggered a response in the little bastard, as he and several other hidden grimlocks attacked us. These monsters can't take much abuse, but they pack quite a punch.
After we dealt with them, we assured Denva that we would help her overcome her malady, and talked her into giving Talos her sword. She told us of a man named Claus, who, like Garren, is completely off his rocker. It seems these Stormcrows have gotten themselves into something they can't handle. It's up to us to put a stop to this.
It is unusual for me to be to pessimistic in these times, though these coming hours bring with them the stench of doom. There is great darkness in this building, and, according to Denva, greater horrors to face. May Corellon, Bahamut, Ioun, and whoever the hell feels obliged to assist, bless this party and protect us from what is to come.
May we meet again, Journal.
Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 5
Dear Journal:
By his light! I captured Levon DuSaul! You should have seen me. The odds were in our favor from the beginning. The others took care of his lackeys; but I kept my eyes on the prize.After Deirdre awoke this morning, I gave her my blessings and met with the others. Our plan was to head straight to the Forlorn Tower, taking us through the countryside into a small strip of Harrow Wood. The tower will be on the west of the forest.
We had been in the woods for nearly three hours when we began to feel uneasy. It was Alyana who was the first to notice we were being watched from above. There were several entities perched in the canopy above us. Elwoz suggested Alyana fire on the first target she could see clearly. This was nearly our undoing.
A deep growl shook the surrounding treetops. Amidst the shower of twigs, acorns, and leaves dropped nine half-orcs. One of which had an arrow sticking out from his shoulder. These warriors were angry, but calm. This was much different from the orc raiders I encountered back in the Feywild. Their eyes burned with passion, not rage; and they lacked the bloodthirsty stare of their cousins. They were knowing creatures. Their eyes darted from person to person, sizing us up and planning their next move. The insignia of Melora could be found on their weapons, headbands, or armor. We knew these were not our enemies.
We made every effort to convince them that our attack was a horrible misunderstanding, begging their forgiveness and throwing ourselves at their mercy. Fortunately, they decided not to kill us. It turned out that Alyana had shot this tribe's leader, Vaymeer of the Harrowfolk. As we apologized and tended to his wounds, he explained in broken Common that they were on their guard due to a rash of intruders on their lands which brought with them a great evil presence.
Then we heard them. In the distance, DuSaul and several groups of what I presume to be Nighthawks marched through the woods. We indicated to Vaymeer that these were the interlopers he referred to and began the attack.
We struck quickly and fiercely. Everyone fought valiantly. The 42nd and the Harrowfolk made an excellent team. DuSaul's men didn't stand a chance against us. I barely broke a sweat before I was able to land the blow that left DuSaul unconscious, bleeding, and surrounded by his failure. We bound and gagged the treacherous bastard. I'm not sure what we shall do with him. I may execute him in the morning. Until then, I do enjoy watching him weakly fight his restraints.
Vaymeer's men suffered heavy losses. His hospitality was surprising, considering the shape he and his shaman, the only surviving Harrowfolk from the fight, were left in. He led us to his hunting party's encampment. A simple fire and some hunting gear did nothing to indicate the twenty or so Harrowfolk which sat resting in the treetops above.
The behavior of these people was admirable. They did little to disturb their surroundings and seemed in tune with the majesty and savagery of nature. As we sat around the fire with a few of their men, the shaman took notice of Elwoz and Getty and came to sit with us.
He spoke briefly of a spirit companion he once had, which he lost trying to save the life of his lover. He stopped abruptly during this tale to stare deeply into the fire. Elwoz and I exchanged knowing glances, aware that we should not press this issue. We instead asked him of his people and where they came from.
The shaman told us of a city within the treetops, several days journey into the Harrow Wood. He said they had lived there for as long as he could remember. It must have been centuries, he explained. They meet with outsiders periodically to sustain their material luxuries and preserve what little Common they can speak. Amongst each other, they speak a language I have never heard. It is definitely not the grunts and gurgles of their orcish cousins.
These are truly a wise people. I hadn't seen living orc hybrids before this day. I had only heard stories. I have fought many of their cousins, and they are nothing like those vicious, moronic beasts. I assumed they were creatures to be pitied, their ancestors victims of brutal, unmentionable atrocities. I have much to reflect on this evening.
Journal, The Divine has humbled me. I am starting to believe that this journey is not only to rid the land of unnatural monstrosities, but to experience the vast expanses of existence. May I hear his voice more clearly from now on. Bahamut, Ioun, Corellon, Melora. What a variety of influences in this land! I do have much to learn.
Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 4
Dear Journal:
Deirdre. It just rolls off the tongue. I'm sure you'll forgive me, Journal, for not making an off-color joke involving tongues. I am not myself at the moment. In fact, I'm jumping too far ahead.
We left the farmhouse early today and headed for Wellspring. We had barely traveled a horse's trot before we realized they had started the festivities without us. The unguarded gates began spewing men, women, and children. Screaming, bleeding, and crying pilgrims raced out of the town like stampeding cattle. We made haste, running against the crowd until we came to the town square. Here we were met by four grell, finishing off several pilgrims. A magnificent battle ensued!
The monsters were quite the challenge. Though we were never at a tactical disadvantage, there were several moments we were in severe condition. This is where Deirdre came in. A few times when one of us looked as if we would fall, she called upon her divine skills to rejuvenate us at her own peril. Such sacrifice for these seven strangers was deeply moving. The beauty of her movements and soothing sounds of her whispered prayers were almost enough to distract me from the battle.
Once the grell were disposed of, we noticed the Teifling singer from the Red Dragon lain against the statue of Estered. His skin was boiling and his body convulsing so, naturally, I blasted him into Oblivion. Deirdre then called upon the powers granted her by Ioun to intervene before the Raven Queen was able to call the Teifling's essence down below. The corpse spoke in a devilish voice as it warned us of a "madness" which has made its way into this town. He blamed it on Malachi, Dreknar's son and commander of the Nighthawks. It turns out, the Nighthawks are the band of Teifling assassins I fought back at the Salty Dog.
Deirdre told us the local authority was a man named Chriswell, and we should visit him for answers to these questions. She also pointed out the Mindspire, the tower which dominated the Wellspring skyline.
She was very weak from the fight; and she had done much to help us. So as she left for her much-needed rest, I asked her to dinner this evening, and she agreed to meet at the Red Rooster, a local inn and tavern on the square, after she had her rest! Huzzah!
We parted ways , investigated the Mindspire, and headed to meet Chriswell. I do not recall much of that conversation other than hearing that our accommodations were gratis on behalf of Chriswell. What excellent timing! Additionally, we were apparently instructed to investigate a tower to the west known as the Forlorn Tower. I apologize, Journal, for failing to recollect more of the conversation, but my mind was on Deirdre. I have noticed this is becoming a habit.
Regardless, the evening came much slower than I had liked. Deidre and I met in the Red Rooster for a wonderful candlelit dinner. After the meal, we walked the square and found a quiet place to sit and talk. We learned a little bit about each other and spoke on matters of the gods. She taught me the ritual used earlier in the day to reanimate the dead Teifling for questioning. I inquired about the skills she used during the fight earlier in the day to heal me and my allies. She explained how she cleared her mind and allowed her desire for our safety to become her only thought. I shall meditate on this subject tonight.
She tired early, but was hesitant to return to the Red Rooster to sleep. This town is obviously no longer safe, and she has been separated from her companions. The night may hold further dangers, so I offered to sit by her bedside in the night since I do not require sleep. I gave my word that I would sit beside her, guarding her until she woke in the morning. I met briefly with the others to plan tomorrow's events and returned to Deirdre. She lay sound asleep in her bed, so I laid out my bedroll on the floor beside her. Astonishingly, my typical urges have been absent over the past few hours.
So I will now say my prayers and meditate on the day's events, honoring my promise to watch over Deirdre. May this follower of Ioun find peace in her dreams; and may Corellon watch over us in the day to come so that I may return here to speak again with Deirdre.
I hope Alyana isn't too jealous.
Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 3
Dear Journal:
As I wandered around the marketplace yesterday afternoon, the others were apparently procuring a map of Wellspring we were to pick up yesterday morning. To be honest, when I think back on that day, I recall mostly the belligerent fruit vendor and the grave-robbing snake oil salesman.
Nevertheless, we acquired our map and set out on the trail to Wellspring. Halfway to the town, we came upon the Red Dragon, a notoriously rowdy establishment, known for its loud music, fine women, and shady patrons. It seemed like my kind of place.
The employees were preparing for a performance as we entered. I ordered a glass of wine and began to mingle with the customers as my wallflower accomplices sat down to their tables in silence. After the Teifling band began its set, I looked away from the dancing women for a moment and noticed Stovokor staring at a hooded human in the corner. (Talos was, at this time, attempting to feign intoxication for some bizarre reason.) I had already held my suspicions about Stovokor's "alignment", and assumed he was after a taste of the flesh. Since he lacked a personality, I thought it best if I broke the ice and perhaps make it appear as if Stovokor was the least bit interesting. I attempted to introduce myself as Stovokor joined us at the hooded man's table. The man was very rude and increasingly hostile. This is when I decided Stovokor needed no help. They were a perfect match.
It seems my imagination got the best of me. Stovokor was merely seeking information and the man turned out to be an agent of the kingdom here to spy on members of the band. He suspected their involvement in the affairs of Dreknar.
He suggested we follow the band after the show to see what they were up to. So Alyana tailed their carriage afterward until it was evident that they were heading to Wellspring.
So we were off. We had then been traveling for over a full day without proper rest. As we neared the city walls, fatigue began to set in. I had the brilliant idea to request lodging in the outlying farmlands, but the entire countryside was deserted.
This humble farmhouse was the closest from the road and suited our needs well. In a moment, I will wake the others and we will finally make our way through the city gates.
I recall from my studies that this town is dedicated to the God of Knowledge. I pray that Ioun retains a presence here; and may He and Corellon watch over us during what promises to be a very eventful day.
Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 2
Dear Journal:
If I may digress for a moment, I have a couple of grievances against this city.
First, those that cater to the affluent members of this society are arrogant and flat-out rude. Why, a fruit vender had the nerve to call me a peasant! Can you believe it? A fruit vender in this city is as self-absorbed and pretentious enough to think himself a nobleman! May it bring him no comfort when he realizes that I shall outlast his great grandchildren who, no doubt, shall also be fruit vendors.
Perhaps that is too harsh of me. After all, I come from humble beginnings myself. Not everyone is given the benefit of channeling a god.
Second, the proper respect is not given to Corellon in this urban cesspool. Talos, Elwoz (I've since learned the Shaman's name), and Stovokor (affectionately referred to as Balanos, apparently -- must be a surname) ventured to the temple district to pay our respects to the higher authorities. I wandered about the district, searching for a glorious effigy to The Divine. Wouldn't you know it? The temple, if I may even use that term, to Corellon was but a small gray-bricked building. I must have passed it by twice. What a shame it is to see a civilization so out of touch with the majesty and wonder of the wilderness. Here worked a kind and ancient elder, and there was but one child of The Divine who knelt in prayer before the humble shrine. I should hope one day to return there during the solstice so that I may see the building at its busiest.
Afterwards, we met here at the White Stallion to rest for tomorrow's trek to Wellspring. I do hope to find this DuSaul and repay him for his previous surprise. Perhaps the road to Wellspring will lead us to the answers we seek. I hear there is an Inn along the road there which is well known for its drink and song.
Until tomorrow, Journal. May we remain in his light.
Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 1
Hello again, Journal:
It seems I'm on a full-scale adventure. How exciting! Allow me to explain how today's events unfolded.
The morning hours were uneventful. Having rid the ruins of the remaining undead problem, the Divine allowed me this week to rest. I hadn't received any guidance, so I had planned to spend my days sampling the city's wares, consume some of the finer spirits, and wander out in search of peril tomorrow. Corellon has other plans, it seems.
As I sat in the Salty Dog tavern, drinking what they attempted to pass as wine, I began to notice the activity in the bar slow. It is not uncommon to see the more novice drinkers collapse in a pool of their own drunken shame, but this was different. The sun had not yet been hidden for two hours as humans around me began to doze off, hunched over their tables or spilled onto the floor.
Then I heard them. Three Teiflings were making their way into the tavern. I managed to slide through the Fey to the other end of the bar, where I laid motionless, trying to conceal my face, yet keeping an eye on the Teiflings. Eladrin attract enough attention. I assumed this was a petty robbery, prefaced by a novice incantation which coaxed the patrons into their slumber. Surely this was the natural order of these large cities, and I needn't interfere. As I feigned sleep, I noticed a small pair of feet beneath the bar divider, next to an unconscious bartender. There sat, curled and sobbing, a human boy. Just as I spied this child, the Teiflings unsheathed their blades, and began murdering the bar patrons, making their way towards the child.
Theft, fights, and the occasional duel were common sights in these cities, and no business of the Divine. However, Corellon's will does not permit the wanton slaughter of any creature; and though I hesitate to admit it, I am a bit biased towards children. We could not allow this abomination to go on, regardless of its cause.
I stood, drew my blade, and blasted the first unsuspecting Teifling, the radiant wrath of the Divine searing his clothes and burning his flesh. That got their attention. I fended off a perry or two as I drew them out in to the alley and into the street. The scene was chaos at first, as the sounds of our battle frightened the pedestrians, sending them running from us, causing an awful commotion. I had intended to hold them off as long as it took to attract the attention of the guards, who would handle the rest.
To my astonishment, two arrows raced past me, wounding my surrounding enemies. As the crowd dispersed, several figures remained. The battle was much too fast for me to assess my new allies, so I merely aided them in surrounding and defeating each Teifling as they came. The original three apparently had a few friends in hiding. We managed to defeat the robbers just as the guards arrived. Fortunately, I did not notice the Tiefling that accompanied these fighters, as I surely would have mistaken him for one of the aggressors.
Wouldn't you know it? This band of adventurers turned out to be the fabled 42nd which that charming little gnome went on and on about recently! Though they did not fit Ringle's description. Stovokor is apparently an incredibly rude Deva, though since he is a follower of Bahamut, I see how this can be distorted. Oddly enough, he was described as animate and quick-witted, while this man is reserved and quiet. I also met the noble and thick-skulled paladin, Talos, and the adorable little Terrion. What a grumpy little creature. So funny! The Teifling accomplice turned out to be a local friend of theirs, and went on about his way. I did not catch his name.
There are also two children of the Feywild in their midst: Alyana, their temptingly vibrant ranger, and some shaman. His name was something like Elvis or Elwick. I don't really recall his name, either. I was much too distracted by the girl. Regardless, they both have strong connections to the wilderness, each with their own beast companions; and they appear to be well-seasoned adventurers. I look forward to their company.Now that I think about it, wasn't there a wizard?
Nevertheless, my friends decided they should investigate this crime and, after showering yours truly with gratitide and admiration, convinced me to follow. I was told this would lead us to horrors of the demonic and the undead. I can not pass up the chance to send these abominations back to the abyss.
We found that the drinks had been tainted by sleep-weed, and investigated the source. Soon we were off in search of a local merchant, Levon du Saul, which had delivered this particular shipment. Upon finding the man, he directed us to a warehouse owned and operated by Devin Garland. Unfortunately, Levon du Saul led us right into an ambush.
Met by several giggling young beauties, we entered the warehouse with the intention of coaxing information (among other things) from them. In the meantime, precious Alyana wandered off to investigate, and managed to uncover the ambush before they got the jump on us. The delicious objects of my attention shed their facade to expose the demonic succubi that dwelt within. Demonic beasts and Teifling ruffians appeared from every corner. Though we caught them off guard, we were still startled enough to fight a sloppy battle. We managed to dispose of our adversaries. Amusingly, the seductive advances of the infernal harlots had no affect on me, though Terrion, Talos, and even Alyana were mesmerized by their fiendish charm.
I don't remember much after the battle except for a nude man in a crate. Since this didn't interest me in the slightest, I decided to make my way back here to the Salty Dog to rest my eyes and refocus my thoughts. Hopefully tomorrow we can find and punish Levon du Saul for his treachery and complacency with demonic forces.
I thank Corellon for guiding me to these adventurers. His wisdom is great, and His grace eternal. I see now that I must assist these adventurers in their quest. I shall cleanse every stone and every plank of their demonic infestation. Something wicked this way roars, and there is but one solution. Every infernal beast and every ally to the abominable shall meet the fate they deserve...
...eradication.
May His light guide us.
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