Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 27

Dear Journal,

Alyana and Talos, noting a few geographical features along our way, insist that we will reach Merkemia within the week. I'm not particularly enthused over the thought of wandering through the cold, grey, stone jungle that is the capital city of Merkemia. Though, I look forward to meeting the king, and perhaps I'll stop by the Salty Dog for old time's sake.

I do believe I have a story to finish. Having defeated Shirou, I and my allies set off to intercept Dreknar as he floated over the battlefield on a path to the kingdom of Merkemia.

As the dwarves pumped hard on the ship's wings, we sped up to catch Dreknar's fleeing ship. Corath burst from below deck, passing out grappling hooks in case we were to board their vessel. As we closed in, I could see the figures Alyana described.

At the bow of the ship stood Dreknar, clad in a skull mask, his twisting horns protruding above the skeletal visage. He waved his arms, pointing and apparently commanding his guards, hulking undead creatures known as blasphemes, to take up position along the side of the ship to engage us as we caught up. Manning the vessel's wheel and wings were enslaved skeletal figures, clad in chains.

Alyana fired an arrow, which hung harmlessly in the air beside Dreknar's ship. I muttered a few words to reveal any magical force the ship may have wielded. It became evident in the form of a magical bubble which surrounded Dreknar's vessel. I knew this energy acting as a barrier to our attacks, so I began the call to Corellon to aid me as I drew the power from the incantation, weakening the barrier.

As I was casting my disruptive spell, our crewman Blim drew the fire of the blasphemes, catching a dagger in each leg before taking the full impact of an orb of dark magic from Dreknar, taking him out of the fight. Further spells and projectiles rained down upon our ship as Talos and Diesa manned our cannons, lobbing magical flaming spheres at Dreknar, leaving smoldering holes in their deck. Their vessel shook with each strike, distracting Dreknar from an incantation he was attempting to recite.

A runic circle appeared at the bow of the ship, and I knew Dreknar was attempting to perform some kind of ritual. I knew I could disrupt it, but that would allow their magical barrier to reform, allowing them to assault us without mercy. I decided to focus on keeping the barrier down.

Frustrated, Dreknar commanded his ship to descend quickly, but this only left his ship vulnerable to several open shots from our cannons. As I continued my magical assault in their barrier, I heard a gasp behind me. Alyana had swung down the rope ladder to fire upon Dreknar as he descended, but had apparently been knocked from her perch into the snowy field below. Talos bravely tied a long rope aroudn his waist and to the rail of the ship and lept off, sprouting a pair of angelic wings from his enchanted armor. A few moments later, Alyana, looking quite well for such a fall, was back aboard the deck, followed shortly be a panting Talos who slung himself back aboard as he topped the rope ladder.

We dove to catch up to Dreknar, as our attacks continued, badly damaging their ship, which was now struggling to maintain its speed with tattered fins and a broken rudder. We quickly glided up beside the vessel, ready to fire at them point-blank, but Alyana had her own idea.

My magical battle was won as the barrier shattered, bringing an angry scream from behind Dreknar's mask. Alyana saw the opening and lept over the line of undead soldiers beside Dreknar. In her hand she held the horn taken from her father. Raising it to her lips, she sounded the horn which emitted a blast unlike anything I'd ever heard. The entire deck of Dreknar's ship was thrown to the railing, and Dreknar collided with a skeletal crewman, sending the flailing creature tumbling over the side to his doom.

I lept through the planar folds to the deck of Dreknar's ship at Alyana's side, and commanded the undead creatures to surrender to their fate with a searing radiant blast. One of the lumbering blasphemes stumbled back over the railings when hit with the divine fire. The rest were left reeling from their rebuke.

It seems the gods were on my side, for first Dreknar stuck me with a life-draining magical bolt, but was send into the cabin doors from the defiant recoil or radiant energy. A similar rebounding magic sent a blaspheme, whose ghastly claws tore at my arms, cartwheeling over the edge of the ship.

The others followed us aboard the ship to engage Dreknar and his minions. We managed to fend off their attacks as we were given supporting fire from our ship. As Getty and Without put down another skeletal crewman, Dreknar's ship began to lose speed and control, putting us in a very dangerous situation. The others kept our ship circling as we continued our fight. Fearing for our safety, I called out to abandon the doomed vessel so that we were not aboard when it inevitably crashed. Diesa refused, determined to wipe the stain of the undead from the vessel himself.

Corath and Talos were sparring with Dreknar until one of Corath's jabs met its mark, running through Dreknar's stomach as Talos's swing sent Dreknar's head rolling on the deck and mask sailing off. His gnarled face called out a warning to prepare for the reign of Orcus, as a disgusted Talos punted it away.

All that remained was a single skeleton, still diligently manning his station, apparently commanded to do nothing else. Diesa was finally pacified when I scattered his bones into the wind.

We quickly manned the ship's controls, saving ourselves and the ship from destruction. As both ships limped back to Moraldrum, Diesa read aloud a note he found on Dreknar's corpse in which was wrapped another stone like we found in the armory. The note told of a plan to steal the other relics from the King's wizard aide and corrupt the Raven Queen somehow. It appears Orcus was attempting to ursurp the Raven Queen's throne and command a neverending army of undead using the artifacts. This does not bode well, for I do not wish to see the Raven Queen involved in this. Her ways are unpredictable and unforgiving.

As we returned to Moraldrum, the sun had broken through the dwindling storm, revealing distant fleeing monsters beyond a sea composed of the corpses of Dreknar's army. We cheered, clasped hands, and embraced in joy, for the forces of Moraldrum and Northwarden had triumphed!

I believe that will suffice for today. It has been a long trip so far, and we've developed a routine in which we sit atop the deck and share stories in the afternoon. Tonight Elwoz has offered to dictate one of the pygmy heron's adventures. I look forward to hearing a tale of, I am sure, complete drunken insanity. It helps pass the time.

May the gods grant their blessings upon the pygmy heron, the albino platypus, and the swamp tiger! Blessed be my allies, as well. Thank Corellon for my safety, my health, and my noble and entertaining friends. Until tomorrow, Journal.

Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 26

Dear Journal,

We've been in the air about two weeks now. I am sorry I haven't written more often. I've tried to do my part to keep the ship running efficiently, working shifts at the wings and steering once or twice, when Elwoz left to procure more alcohol. It is the strangest sight, indeed, to watch him steer this vessel. Even stranger is to watch him, fast asleep, guiding the ship smootly with his hands as the ghostly form of his lizard companion watches the skies intently.

He does so love to play the part of crewman. His time in the swamps has not taught him much about the ways of sailing ships, for he has found a ridiculously wide-brimmed hat below deck that he refuses to take off. He has confused the station of captain and helmsman, barking orders to his legion of spirits, which I believe I am beginning to sense, strangely enough. Ever since the battle began, I've felt as if I was being watched. Not stalked but, guarded would be the word I'd choose. Bah! For all I know it's the damned tear playing tricks on me. I shouldn't let my guard down and forget about this malady the tear has left me with.

Anyway, I believe I still have a story to tell.

Fearing the door would soon relent to the unending assault outside, I began distributing the cleansed healing elixers to the dwarves. When I arrived back at my tactical post, our command disintegrated. The conflicting orders from Groth, Elwoz, and Without had left our runners caught up in arguments with the different command units. Groth, realizing the coordination with the forces above and below was lost, threw his hands up, grabbed his mighty hammer and shield, and left to assume his place at the door, to await the moment when the dam would burst, spilling Dreknar's army into Moraldrum. As we three moved to follow, the dwarven horn above sounded once again, and we met the others in a mad dash up the tower stairs.

Topping the tower roof, we witnessed Shirou, clad in a chestpiece swirling with chaotic magic and clutching an ominous green-glowing sword, lept from his mighty elder dragon who was effortlessly shoving aside the few dwarves that dared charge them. From his eyes poured a black mist, like fog rolling down a hillside. Noticing our arrival, Shirou raised his hand, which eminated foul elemental energies, preparing to unleash the chaotic magic upon us. A lighting bolt danced through our ranks, striking the end of Diesa's hammer. The stoic dwarf's muscles tightened and the ends of his beard curled and burned, but he shook it off and moved with us toward the corrupted elf.

As Shirou turned his gaze to Without, and the halfling held out his orb, which had now seemed to regain some of its healthy dark appearance. Cringing, Without commanded the orb, or more accurately, pleaded for it to defend him. Silence engulfed the tower for an instant, and a bright blast from the orb stole my sight. Cries went out from the tower, and it seemed anything within sight of us was similarly afflicted, for the assault on the door must have been halted, for the shocks from the pounding ceased. The whizzing sound of arrows and rocks ceased, along with the clicking of the dwarven crossbows, and was replaced with the curses of dwarves and the wild hooting and shrieks of the army below.

I attempted to avoid the sound of Shirou's undirected attacks, ducking and feeling for the rampart walls. Shirou and his dragon were unable to shake the blindness as quickly as the 42nd, and the dragon suffered a few nasty strikes from Talos and Diesa. Stumbling back from one of my holy blasts, Shirou was in a familiar peril. Seeing the opportunity, Elwoz shouted "Sic 'em!" and again, the ghostly lizard formed before our enemy and burst before him, stronger this time. The tower shook violently, causing the blind dragon the stumble forward, past the vicious weapons of our paladin and cleric. Shirou was propelled off the tower, screaming and firing raw elemental energy in all directions.

As my gaze followed Shirou's flailing form soaring over the tower ramparts, I could see beyond him that Stovokor's men were gaining ground, nearing the mouth of the mountain pass. However, as Shirou disappeared from view and I turned my gaze back upon the blinded dragon, the mountains echoed with the sound we had been dreading since the battle began. I was nearly knocked from my feet at the force of the great iron doors of Moraldrum being torn from their stone anchors. The first sounds of melee combat erupted below as Dreknar's monsters flooded into the fortress, giving the dwarven artillery cause to step up their assault on the stampede that now rushed through the canyon.

The dragon, regaining his sight, continued his advance toward the center of the tower, not wanting to be thrown into the fray as his master was. As he tore by us, his chilling aura crept over us, stealing our breath and biting at our skin. It was evident that I would have to keep my distance, for the cold he emanated would easily overtake me. I lept atop the inner ramparts and cast down my holy vengeance and the others assaulted the dragon from all sides.

Any younger whelp would be frantic at the assault, but this mighty beast maintained its composure as my allies encircled him. The dragon was smart, waiting for us to close in before blasting his surroundings with his fierce cold breath. I caught the roof of its mouth with a well-placed radiant bolt, thoroughly enraging him. His dark eyes shot my way, and from them rushed a black wave of air which surrounded me, stealing my sight. I prayed that the others could hold his attention as I stood vulnerable, blind and standing in the open. I no choice but to turn my aim toward the sound of the dragon's growling, not knowing if my attacks were successful.

The dark veil fell from my eyes a few moments later, revealing the battered dragon impaled by talos's sword through the dark blue must within his open chest. With a victorious roar, the paladin freed his sword and stepped aside as the beast collapsed beside him, sending a cold chill across the tower roof. Apparently compelled to keep the towers free of enemies, dead or alive, a group of dwarves dragged the corpse to the edge and shoved it off into the fray. Perhaps the huge monster served as a hindrance to the flowing crowd.

We took a moment to tend to a few of the injured dwarves that met Shirou as he landed, as well as our own wounds. Once the situation was under control and our minor wounds healed by Diesa's blessings, we quickly made our way to the staircase, eager to join the battle below. We had barely take a step as the wicked Shirou appeared upon the rooftop, sneering, though looking no worse for wear. He had apparently survived the fall and made his way through the crowd back to the tower! I still do not know how by stealth, luck, or force, he found his way to us.

Alyana was the first to see him, and as we gathered around, Shirou spoke. His black eyes greyed, and his voice was broken and desperate. He then made it clear why this act took great effort.

Calling out to Alyana, he claimed his actions today are not his will. Forces greater than he have assumed control of him, using him as a conduit for the elemental chaos. He set his hand upon a box strapped to his side, telling Alyana she must destroy him and take what is rightfully hers. Before his posture straightened, face contorted, and darkness returned to his eyes, he called out to Alyana once again, calling her "daughter".

With that, control of his body returned to the dark forces within. Stunned from this discovery, we were almost caught off guard by Shirou's attacks. Alyana was royalty, and stood now to face her own father!

I felt like such a fool for failing to recall the history of the land Dreknar inhabited. I do remembered studying a historical text at evening classes as a child which told of the Denmok Empire, which spanned the lands now controlled by Dreknar. It was ruled by an elf named Shirou - the very same Shirou whose body, though not mind, stood before us atop the dwarven tower! I had heard, though cared little at the time, that Shirou had been assassinated, leading to the teifling uprising and eventually the Dreknar Empire. The title leader of the tribes of that land was chosen by challenging and defeating the reigning king, or by the relinquishing of an ancient artifact, a horn, which stood as a symbol of the ruler's power. Upon his assassination, the relic went missing.

Shirou's sword came out almost too quickly for Talos to react. Their swords clashed and Shirou bounced backwards, nimbly leaping to Diesa and lashing out with a skillful swing, grazing his arm before he darted back to Talos. Without, Elwoz, Alyana, and I stood back, waiting for a clean shot. As we circled the fighting, Alyana alerted us to an approaching airship, much like the one we sailed to Moraldrum.

As she gazed up at the ship, Shirou seized the opportunity. Gathering his magical energies, he fired a cone of swirling frost at Alyana. Talos, thrown back from a forceful magical push, read Shirou's intentions before he moved, and dove forward, absorbing the entirety of the spell and was sent rolling across the floor, falling down the stairwell.

Shirou watched Talos disappear into the stairwell with his blank, soulless expression. Alyana beckoned to him again to fight the dominating magic. Once more, he struggled with the magic within and insisted there was no hope. He straighted up and charged at Alyana, retaken by the magic, but Alyana, ever the nimble acrobat, faked to her right and flipped end of end in the opposite direction, leaving Shirou swinging into the empty air. Hardly affected by the failure of this attack, he immediately charged in my direction, startling me with his speed.

I raised my sword to deflect his swing, but his exaggerated motions were a ruse. He brought his sword down to his side and thrusted forward. I was only able to bat it aside far enough to not be a fatal strike, for the magically infused weapon gashed my hip, spilling my blood upon the stone. Weakened from this blow, I managed to harness the Fey magic within and slip through the fabric of the planes to a position across the tower, temporarily out of harm's way.

Taking my place before Shirou was the ghostly form of Getty, whose form parted as a magical blast from Without exploded upon Shirou's chestpiece. Hissing and bobbing with the wind, Getty lashed out, keeping Shirou on his heels, repeatedly dodging the spirit's attacks. I decided to conjure a spirit of my own.

Diverting the river of arcane magic that flows through this plane, I summoned a phantom sword before me, which weaved through the air as if weilded by some unseen force. Alyana, now standing atop the inner ramparts, struck Shirou in the shoulder with an arrow, inviting his wrath. He charged towards Alyana, blasting her with a dark energy and knocking her back out onto the platform. As he made his move, my ghostly sword darted across the tower, cutting Shirou across his back as he lashed out at Alyana.

Falling back toward the tower's center, Shirou placed himself in a precarious position. Diesa began a chant to Moradin to diminish this threat, and radiant energy assailed Shirou, sapping his strength. Getty and the phantom sword moved in and began working in unison, striking out when the other forced Shirou to one side. Their dance left Shirou wide open to our assualts from outside the immediate fight, since the spirits were unphased by our attacks, allowing Without, Alyana, Elwoz, and me to freely batter Shirou as he desperately fended off the apparitions.

Alyana again warned of the approaching airship, noting a skull-faced figure stood at its bow. Our airship then began slowly heading our way from the opposite tower.

Eager to dispose of the wicked mage, I conjured a holy flame which fell over Shirou, setting his clothing ablaze. Without followed with an eruption of crackling lighting, which clung to Shirou, dancing around his body and causing my fire to flare up, consuming him, ironically, in elemental fury. Finally Getty struck the final blow. As Shirou shook off the elemental assault, and lept back from a swipe of the ghostly blade, right into Getty's prepared attack. The lizard swelled up and crashed down upon the elf, shattering his body into countless pieces.

Our ship sailed over up and dropped the rope ladder, just as Talos topped the staircase to rejoin the group. Brolani called out to us saying the other ship held Dreknar himself. Alyana scooped up the small box Shirou carried as she paused for a moment to look upon the shattered remains of her father. She looked to mem wide-eyed, with a sudden rush of hope. I knew what she was going to ask of me. I could only shake my head as I grabbed the ship's ladder. The body was detroyed. I had no vessel through which to channel the arcane magic needed to speak with Shirou. Regardless, Drekar was sailing by, looking to break through our lines and reach the Kingdom. We could not allow this.

Without nudged Alyana toward the ship as we began scrambling up the ladder. Once aboard our crewman, accompanied by a few dwarves, turned the ship about to pursue Dreknar. Alyana opened Shirou's box, revealing the relic horn her father possessed as ruler prior to Dreknar's reign. As soon as she lifted it into her hand, we could feel its powerful magic. How eager I was to see what this artifact had in store! It would have to wait, for we were now in hot pursuit, and Diesa was busy tending to my wound with his clerical spells.

We still have a long journey, so I shall save the rest of this story for another day. My wrist is tired from all of this writing, and I again getting worked up from reliving the battle. I shant be able to focus on my mediations and prayers if I continue.

Until next time, dear Journal, may Corellon continue to bless us and watch over us.

Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 25

Dear Journal,

I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am to be heading out of the cold mountains. I am overjoyed at the sight of green foliage once again. Alyana and Talos insist that there is still a considerable journey ahead, but it doesn't bother me in the least. I've been on this vessel several days and so for, nothing has tried to kill me. The sun is shining and the warm winds rejuvinate my senses. It's evident that this pleasent change in scenery is doing wonders for us and our crew.

That reminds me! We've gained the service of two additional crewmen, which I will speak of later, since I wish to recount my story from start to end. So, to continue my tale: I last left off with the triumph over Shirou's gang of undead spirits.

After our skirmish with the wraiths, we resumed our stations. The enemy had reached the fortress doors, and the towers shook from their determined pounding. We had several runners which traveled back and froth from Elwoz and Groth in the command center, and brought orders to redirect fire on several occasions. Unfortunately, it seemed with each shift in directed fire, the enemies poured through. It was only with the aid of Alyana's attuned senses and perceptive eyes that we managed to alert the misdirected dwarves to greater threats and enemy diversions.

Alyana's bowstring sang a deadly song, harmonizing with the constant clicking from the dwarven crossbows. For a brief moment, we three atop the tower and our dwarven units pelted the advancing army beneath us without much resistance. Eventually those below noticed that we were no longer being assaulted from the air and redirected their arrows and stones. A trebuchet missle crashed against the other tower, rattling it so violently that several dwarves were thrown to their demise, but the strong dwarven structure barely suffered a few cracked stones from the devestating blow.

Meanwhile, Lightning cracked, icey shards fell, and bursts of magical fire erupted upon our enemies from Without's wiggling fingers. Summoning the ever-present magic in the air and, gathering my strength, I parted the clouds for an instant and burned a crowd of Drow archers with heavenly fire.

Two dragon riders swooped down from the thick clouds above and circled us, again launching deadly elemental blasts upon the towers, drawing our fire away from the troops below who continued to assail the fortress door. The situation was beginning to look desperate as their assault upon the door would eventually prove fruitful, and we would no longer be at an advantage as they streamed into the fortress halls. Our attempts to motivate the dwarven artillery was beginning to feel more and more futile.

Suddenly, our forces on the twin tower cheered, and a portion of the army below split off in apparent retreat to the north. Alyana focused, then grabbed a dwarf's spyglass and gazed into the distance. Punching her fist into the air and squeeling with delight, she shouted "Stovokor!" and our tower erupted in a joyous roar. Then, through the wispy haze of the storm, we saw two dark masses, the forces of Dreknar and Northwarden, collide. Though our total numbers were still less than that of Dreknar's, we had them surrounded. With renewed vigor, we resumed our assault on the army, coordinating attacks between the dragon riders and the ground troops.

Just after Without left us to aid Elwoz in the command center below, Alyana noticed a huge creature making a beeline for the fortress door. Her keen eyes detected the frost titan as it tore through its own army, scattering and trampling Dreknar's minions. The tower collectively took aim and fired upon the giant, slowing its charge as it tripped up amongst the army and momentarily toppled down.

I turned my attention then to one of the Shadar-kai dragon riders and fired a divine bolt at him. True was my aim as the magical energy connected squarely upon his chest, knocking him clear of his mount and down into the rushing tide of soldiers.

Alyana again warned us that the frost titan was charging in on the door. The chilled titan tossed monsters about as it again plowed through toward the fortress. Alyana fired a shot which connected with the titan, catching his attention and distracting him long enough to seal his fate, for one of the dwarves' trebuchets on the opposite tower struck the creature with its missle. As the titan scowled at us, it took a single step just as its head evaporated into a fine blue mist, pulverized by a massive stone launched from above. As his limp form crashed down into the crowd, the scattered flying creatures of Dreknar's army began to fall back out of our range.

One dragon rider broke away from the retreat and swooped low over the army, then climbed up the side of the tower. I gave the signal for battle and the horn was blown again to summon the 42nd. We recognized the shadar-kai as his dragon landed and he dismounted upon the tower platform. It was the rider which escaped our battle upon the airship. The soldier wore simple, dark vestments, usually worn by servants of the Raven Queen. As we have previously seen, however, this strange warrior carried the insignia of Orcus, the Prince of Death.

The surrounding dwarves kept their attention on the army below as the 42nd assembled to face the threat. Without's current affliction caused the tower to sway with his every step. It seemed as if the tower itself was repeled from Without's feet by some magical energy. Even the dwarves upon the edge of the tower somehow instinctively parted anytime Without got near. This kept the dragon and his master off-step as the halfling danced around the tower, launching his madness upon them. The dragon inhaled deeply, looking to assail us with his blistering cold breath. Seeing an opportunity, I concentrated my next attack as the dragon threw its head back and stood on its hind legs, ready to heave himself down and unleash his wicked attack. An explosive blast of holy light erupted squarely on its chest, knocking its breath from its lungs and throwing it off balance. Without conveniently lept back to avoid the shadar-kai's whip at just that moment, rocking the tower and sending the dragon bouncing along the side of the structure as it plummeted down into the fray.

We focused then on the shadar-kai, who now knew he was outnumbered, but continued swinging his whip defiantly, striking Talos with its necrotic energy. Our attacks strategically drove the soldier towards the edge of the tower. Elwoz yelled something in his own drunken language, but Getty seemed to understand. The ghostly lizard formed before the shadar-kai and exploded in a thunderous boom, rematerializing beside Elwoz. The shock lifted the shadar-kai off of his feet and sailing off the edge.

As I ran to the edge of the tower, I saw our enemy disappear into a crowd of orcs. Below me the dragon had arisen and was now flying back up the side of the tower, his wounded wings pumping frantically. I leaned over the edge, my boots holding me tightly to the stone tower, and fired a bolt at him, momentarily slowing his advance. We then stepped back, gathering at the edge and waiting for the dragon to appear before us. My blade ready, I sliced the dragon as it flew by and landed beside us upon the tower's ledge.

Elwoz and Getty assaulted the dragon's mind, and Elwoz taunted the beast with claims of conquest over his mother by his friend, the cave rhino. The tired and tattered beast was struck in the leg by Talos as I conjured another of my forceful radiant bursts. Again my aim was true and the dragon was struck upon the shoulder. Finally overwhelemed by the mental assault from Getty, the dragon slumped backwards, dead before its limp body crashed into the river of soldiers below.

Dreknar's air support was in disarray. The last few remaining monsters flew north to meet Stovokor's advancing army as the dwarves resumed their barrage upon Dreknar's ground forces. Seeing that the towers were secure, Alyana and I went downstairs to help the others. I joined Elwoz and Without in the command center and Alyana and Diogi sped off to hold the gate with Talos and Diesa.

This looks to be an excellent stopping point in my tale for now. I shall be up many more hours if I wish to continue at this point, for the battle takes a thrilling twist. Just writing about it again makes me feel the invigorating rush of battle once more. I think I shall open another bottle of wine Elwoz brought up from the cellar and sit with the others for a while.

Blessings be upon this crew and these warriors. May His light guide us safely to Merkemia and beyond.

Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 24

Dear Journal,

Forgive me once again for the hiatus I have taken from writing to you. The last few days have been a blur of constant toil and labor. Suffice it to say that the battle of Moraldrum will go down as one of the most legendary achievements of dwarven history. Faced with legions of Dreknar minions and ridiculously outnumbered, we stood beside the brave soldiers of Moraldrum and Northwarden and brought an empire to its knees. We now sail the skies once again, on our way to Merkemia, for we have another quest!

As usual, I am getting ahead of myself. I have many days in which to recount the tale of the 42nd's latest victory as we travel, so I shall attempt to do so as thoroughly as possible. I just hope they find an attractive eladrin to play me when these notes become an epic theatrical display.

To say we were lucky would be a lie and, honestly, insulting to the pantheon which watches over us. Our faith and skill guided us through the battle, and there was no doubt we would prevail. Having never before witnessed the fury and insanity of war, there is only one word which would do it any justice:

Chaos.

The word leaves such a bad taste in one's mouth. No one but the maddest of the mad is comfortable with unpredictability. Though we trust his intentions and show him the love and respect due to an ally, Without's episodes are met with apprehension, for the outcome is anyone's guess. Such is the nature of chaos. As he has often shown us, however, the odds can be manipulated.

The 42nd has encountered and neutralized the forces of chaos before. The plotting agents of Bane and Dagon have been stricken down by the might of these adventurers before I had the pleasure of meeting their acquaintance. In this battle, and throughout my holy quest, I have battled the forces of the Underdark, including the cruel minions of the Spider Queen. Today, she was dealt a mighty blow along with the Demon Prince, Orcus. We now know a greater force of chaos is at work, and have been given our mission to see that it is dealt with.

I have witnessed the manifestation of chaos, but never on the scale of open war. I can almost sympathize with the allure. The rush brought on by the quaking earth under the stomping mass of an army, the screams of the dying and roars of satisfaction and excitement after a kill, and the sheer sight of an ocean of bodies, charging into battle: these things will cause one to be lost in the moment. But within the chaos of war, like a vein of gold within miles of cold, gray stone, dwelt the cool heads of a well trained and well prepared army. They were droplets of sanity and skill in an ocean of madness. The balance lived on.

We could hear them before the dark mass spilled over the horizon at dawn. The menagerie of Dreknar's army and its countless mercenaries were impressive. Had I not been an eladrin of such great faith, my morale would have sank at the sight. Amongst the Teiflings and Elves of the northern lands marched the creatures of several planes of existence. Shadar-kai stood beside drow and fomorian who, in turn, marched alongside elemental constructs, all led by the various races inhabiting the Dreknar empire. In the air above them flew mounted dragons and other winged creatures and floating spirits.

Dreknar's forces rushed like a wave upon the fortress of Moraldrum, funneling into the deathtrap that was the slender, walled trail before Moraldrum's gates. Luckily, the obstacles laid about the mountain pass entrance did well to stagger the forces. As the caltrops dug into the feet of the orc and goblin fodder, slowing the ground forces, the flying troops rushed forward. This folly allowed the artillery atop the towers, on one of which Without, Alyana, and I were perched, to cut down many, dropping the corpses of dragon whelps and giant bats as additional obstacles in the pass below. The greater dragons, along with their shadar-kai riders, stopped with the horde, launching their deadly breath and dark magical blasts at the fortress as we fired our volleys upon them.

The blizzard roared in with our enemies. Their backs to the wind, the flying creatures and the army's projectiles came in with incredible speed. Visibility was almost too little to avoid the arrows and stones launched by the soldiers below. Often we took aim at a dark mass before the wind carried the corpse of our target into the side of the tower. We had a few land atop the tower, but were quickly peppered with crossbow bolts. The skilled dwarves atop the towers were holding strong.

Below, the crowd parted and a huge battering ram began its advance towards the enormous iron doors of Moraldrum. Thankfully, the troops did not detect Talos's trap, and the unfortunate soldiers barreled into the hot, sticky oil trench. The army merely pressed on, filling the trench with bodies of their comrades, and marching upon the door themselves.

Through the white haze Shirou rode. Though he, too, was but a dark blur amidst the raging storm, the sheer size of the elder blizzard dragon he rode and the bright, pulsing glow of his elemental magic gave him away. As he broke through the snowy curtain and came into view, he stopped short of the tower and stretched out his hand. The dwarves around us fired bolt after bolt, only to have them blown down harmlessly by the dragon's breath. From Shirou's hands came four black orbs which raced down to the tower platform, settling down and revealing the form of oblivion wraiths. A dwarf blew a horn, signaling the 42nd to assemble at this tower, for we were to be summoned in the event of a breech in our defenses. Shirou fled back across enemy lines and into the white nothingness as my allies topped the staircase.

Talos, Diesa, and I were pleased to see our divinely sanctioned attacks seared and tore at the apparitions, often sending them violently reeling. Most of us did our best to dance around the spirits, as they emitted a dark necrotic energy that assaulted one's soul. Thankfully, they spaced themselves around the tower, allowing us to focus our attacks on one or two at a time. We were dealt little pain, but the stubborn ghosts clung to this world for an excessive amount of time, distracting us from the battle for far too long.

Blast! Talos calls from the deck above. It appears my shift has come. I will pick this story up again tomorrow, when there is more time. For now, I must pull my weight by actually working aboard the ship, since I did so well to get out of it on the way to Merkemia. I have much, much more to tell, and I will do so when there is a break from the work and fellowship we are sharing in this brief time of peace.

Praise be to Corellon! Praises, too, be to the goodly gods and spirits which have guided us. We are truly blessed.

Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 23

Dear Journal,

Forgive my negligence. It has been days since I last wrote. Preparation for tomorrow's battle has stolen all of my time, and the expected thrill has held my thought captive.

For much of the first week, I spent morning in the mushroom and cave moss gardens, speaking the ancient words taught to me by Gunt Orcsmasher, cleric of Avandra. These incantations were words lost long ago to commune with the natural spirits. Elwoz is pleased that I am speaking with the earth as he does. I believe I am beginning to understand him better. He claims it is Stoneroot, spirit of a once mighty mountain from a time before the Dawn Wars. I can only say the voices within the stone coaxed the growth of the bounty of food accumulated over that time.

For most of the mornings I attempted to help out where I could. First it was speaking with the stone to replenish the dwarves' rations. After that, I spent a few days in the apothecary's shop, cleansing a previously undetected taint from the crates of healing elixirs donated to the cause. And finally I spent time in the library, reading dwarven texts, with the help of Diesa's magical spectacles which turned the blockish dwarven words into beautifully dancing elven script right before my eyes. Using knowledge gained from my studies, I was able to assist in battle preparations more directly.

I read of a battle several hundred years ago in a land called Nam, where the victors used specially designed caltrops to slow the charging forces of their enemies, causing them to stumble and trip over each other as they charged the battlefield. Over the span of two days, I had worked with several dwarven engineers and blacksmiths to design and forge these weapons to spread about the mouth of the mountain pass. Another trick I read was in a book on psychological warfare. Our enemies think the dwarves to have very few numbers, so I assisted our allies in creating, from straw and cloth, facimilies of soldiers of various backgrounds. Dragonborn, human, and dwarf dummies were placed in strategic locations about the fortress, visible from a distance. This would lower the morale of the advancing army until they were close enough to discern our charade.

In the afternoons and evenings, we trained with Corath, who suggested Alyana, Without, and I join the artillery forces atop the towers. As we ran drills and devised strategy atop the towers, the dwarves had to accept that Without should follow his own plan, for his affliction pays no heed to strategy. Meanwhile, Talos and Diesa prepared to defend the gates below. Talos, with his vast military knowledge, devised a plan to dig hidden trenches in the pass before the gate to slow the advancement of troops even more. Elwoz, no doubt under Getty's guidance, and his legion of spirit friends would operate in the command center, guiding troops where they were needed.

Elwoz and Diesa were outrageously successful in their treatment of the sick dwarves. All 400 soldiers had made a full recovery and were training with Corath within days. Successful, too, were Alyana, Without, and Talos, whose perilous flight to Northwarden may prove to be the saving grace of Moraldrum. Battling storms which put our previous trek to shame, a few dwarven soldiers were lost, but they pressed on and reached Northwarden with time to spare. Stovokor sent back with them 100 men, including one of his top commanders to help coordinate between the two armies. Stovokor and his remaining force are marching upon Moraldrum as well with an additional 400 men. Corath claims Dreknar's numbers dwarf ours. (Pardon the pun.) However, he is quick to point out our advantageous positioning and preparation.

Most details of these two weeks have been lost in the blur and excitement of our training and preparation. I had not given thought to you, Journal, since my allies set sail for Northwarden. I have only now been given the opportunity to rest as I prepare my gear for tomorrow's battle. The dwarves say they can hear the approaching army in the stone. I trust their relationship with this land. To raise morale and let the approaching army know they are strong, they now beat drums, slap stones with their hammers, forge weapons for the sake of the noise, and drink! Oh, how they drink!

Tonight is a holy night! I shall take my leave now, Journal, to celebrate and sing with my allies. For the light of Corellon dwells within me, and tomorrow that light will cast down its judgement upon the forces of Dreknar, whos unholy alliances and attempts to undermine the natural order of this plane have damned them all to suffer the vengence of the gods. I do not plead for the blessings of the Divine tonight, Journal. I, instead, bear witness to them and proclaim this message as a warning to all who stand against us. Woe be unto those who bear their weapons against the hallowed blades of the 42nd!

Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 22

Dear Journal,

The game is afoot! First thing in the morning, we aid the people of Moraldrum in preparation for war. The threat from within has been neutralized. Now our focus shall be turned towards defense, for we are far outnumbered, according to Corath. I do not doubt this, after seeing the poor condition of Moraldrum's fighting force. Tomorrow begins preparations for what will prove to be the 42nd's greatest challenge to date.

Our first task this day was to conduct a thorough investigation of Moraldrum. It seemed Diesa had slipped off in the morning, and we were unable to find him as we devised our plans. Without, Talos, and I were to interrogate Krull, who had been acting suspicious from the moment we arrived. Alyana, Elwoz, and Corath decided to scour the infirmary and kitchen for clues to the illness plaguing the dwarves.

Krull made his home on the grand tower in the center of Moraldrum's massive cavern. This column, to be more accurate, formed over millenia, was painstakingly sculpted with levels of finely crafted railing and spiral staircases connecting them together. Surrounding the tower was a beautifully arranged rock garden. Shimmering crystals and brilliant gemstones jutted from the cavern floor, encircling the tower completely in a colorful and breathtaking spectacle. Though dedicated to my quest, I count not help but linger as we walked a cobblestone path through the garden. This was apparently where the most decorated and wealthy citizens of Moraldrum were housed. Within each level was carved at least six rooms. Krull dwelt within a room on the sixth of nine stories. A helpful city guard was kind enough to lead us all the way to his door.

Talos pounded thrice, announcing our presence and calling for him to answer. After a brief moment, the door cracked open, revealing Krull's little angry head which poked around the small crack in the door. Before Krull had the words to question our purpose, Talos had shoved the door open and barreled into the room, repeating Thonin's permissive orders to search as needed. Krull, nearly toppled over at our paladin's rude entry, grumbled and obliged, moving to a circular table in the center of the room where he had modeled the fortress and surroundings on the surface. As we moved to the table, we noticed these were battle plans Krull was forming.

Needing no further provocation, Talos began reviewing Krull's plans, pointing out flaw after flaw, and rearranging the placement of the little stones used to represent dwarven emplacements and fortifications. Annoyed at Krull's apparent unwise plans, Talos stopped for a moment and sniffed the air, looking disgusted. Looking down at Without, I could see he, too, had caught wind of some foul odor. In fact, as Talos returned to berating the now agitated commander, the malodorous scent assaulted me as well.

Talos first questioned Krull about the odor, which was beginning to become quite unbearable. Without pointed to Krull's bed against the side of the room, indicating he had found the source of the stench. Becoming more agitated at our persistence, Krull demanded we leave, for he claimed to have provoked no further need for investigation, claiming his time is best spent reflecting on the coming battle.

Talos would have none of it. His requests turned to commands, and Krull hesitantly complied. Without moved to push the bed slightly to reveal what was underneath, but his current affliction left him with bursts of forceful energy, which caused him to accidentally send the bed skidding across the floor, knocking over a small table. Ignoring the crash of the glass which set atop it, and Without's bashful withdrawal behind Talos, the paladin and I turned our attention to a small wooden box which laid beneath the bed. Within the box were a few bottles of preserving fluid and a corked vial with grayish flakes. At closer inspection, I could tell these were patches of dwarf skin, perfectly preserved.

I recognized this practice as one committed by members of flesh cults. I believe it is used in some sort of ritual, but that is the extent of my knowledge concerning their practices. Flesh cultists, however, are typically followers of the Raven Queen. These dangerously demented followers, though dedicated to battling forces of the undead, do so with the aid of abominable monstrosities equal in horror to any undead beast.

My face must have revealed my understanding of this object, and as Talos and Without pressed Krull once again, he began to relent. He began explaining how he has had the urge to cut himself and store the skin, an urge he cannot explain. It began when he and a squad of his men encountered a group of Dreknar soldiers.

His eyes went wide and a black shadowy streak shot across the room away from us just as Krull fell dead to the floor. The others did not see, but a dark magical aura remained, leading into the wall. Whatever it was that struck down Krull fled through the wall.

"To arms!" I cried, drawing my sword, as Talos and Without drew theirs. We stormed out onto the balcony and kicked in the door to the next room, which shared a wall with Krull's chambers. A lone dwarven nobleman cowered at his table, spilling his wineglass as he curled into a ball. Talos began interrogating the poor dwarf, but I could detect no magic about him. The aura I followed was fading, but led through yet another wall. At this rate, the killer would be long gone before we regained our heading.

I yelled for Talos and Without to notify the guards as I conjured the arcane guiding hand which has served us well in the past. As the ghostly hand appeared, I asked it to guide us to the killer. Following its pointed finger outside, we three followed the floating form down the stairs and back onto the streets.

As we ran down the streets, shouts of "Assassin" echoed through the cavern, and a deep bellowing blast sounded from a distant unseen horn. Alyana, Corath, and Elwoz came running around a corner, following several guards attracted by the commotion, just as we came upon Moraldrum's armory. The hand outstretched its palm, indicating it had led us a step of the way towards the assassin. Wasting no time, Talos, trailed closely by myself and Without, stormed into the armory, between two very surprised dwarven soldiers. I again beckoned the hand, which floated to a large chest amongst piles of torn armor and broken weapons.

Flinging open the chest, which spanned the width of both Talos and I, we begain tearing through the contents. Without, leaping into the chest, began digging around the bottom until he presented us with a dark red gem fragment. The hand once again outstretched his hand.

Talos recognized this stone, saying it resembled a relic used by Kalarel, an agentsof Dreknar, in his effort to raise an undead army within the Shadowfel Ruins outside of Merkemia, where I was commissioned to help clean up the lingering undead that didn't face the 42nd's wrath. The assassin must have some connection to the Shadowfel, and presumably Dreknar as well.

Once again, I asked the hand where to search for the creature who killed Krull. A few nearby soldiers had gathered, curious of the three strangers rummaging through their things. The hand outstretched its palm to the closest soldier, then disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Talos practically pounced on the now nervous soldier. He told us they found the gem on a Teifling warlord killed by Krull and his men on a scouting mission. Since that night, the soldier said, Krull had begun acting strangely, wearing bandages in different places each week and wandering off into the mountains some nights instead of sleeping. He told us of a tunnel Krull often used which led up into the mountains above. The assassin had escaped, but we now knew a good place to search.

Alyana, Korath, and Elwoz asked that we stop along the way to speak with a dwarven general named Groth. They explained how they discovered tainted food during their investigation of the fortress kitchen. Alyana determined the food was poisoned by blackthorn, a toxic plant found abundant in lands controlled by Dreknar. The herb was strong enough to kill an elephant in days, but the iron-stomachs of the dwarves have held death at bay much longer. The majority of their food had to be destroyed.

They then visited the infirmary to see how many were affected. At least 400 dwarves have fallen ill from the poisoned rations, but luckily Elwoz knows a cure for the sickness. However, he claims it will take him at least four days of constant care to nurse them back to health and needed Groth to lend him manpower for the task.

We arrived at General Groth's meeting room, and were ushered in immediately. Groth was eager to speak with us, immediately assaulting us with questions regarding our battle plans. We agreed to meet with him later, but insisted we had to investigate the tunnels to the surface. Elwoz quickly recounted their findings, and convinced Groth to spare him 100 men to tend to the sick. We then thanked him and hurried off.

We crept along the dark tunnels for over an hour before we came to an entrance to a natural cavern alongside the meticulously carved tunnel. Talos held the only lit torch, for we did not want to alert any hostile company and, if we did, we wouldn't want them knowing our numbers. Alyana set foot into the cavern, with Talos standing at the entrance. I had a very eerie feeling as Alyana appeared back into the tunnel. To confirm my suspicions, Alyana told of several figures hiding in the shadows, apparently convinced that we did not detect them. Expecting an element of surprise, we timed ourselves and then snapped into action. Alyana quickly drew her bow and fired an arrow into the darkness as Talos flung the torch into the cavern, illuminating the moist, sticky surfaces of the room.

Revealed, though some slightly concealed in the shadows were flesh cultists, our shadowy assassin, and two abominable organ wretches, which are living constructs made of discarded or "obtained" body parts. The assemblages of dwarven flesh had a difficult time getting through Talos's thick plate armor, and were quickly dealt with. Unfortunately, the assassin, a shadow puppeteer, and several acolytes fought incredibly well against our attacks. We were relieved when the last of these creatons fell to a random blast from Without's magically conductive dagger.

Upon the fallen cult leader we found a note from Krull. Clearly dominated by dark magic, Krull wrote an acknowledgement of plans to create a flesh cult within Moraldrum and take over as leader after Moraldrum had fallen to the Dreknar invasion. Curiously, the note was peppered with praises of Orcus and, as I mentioned, flesh cultists were typically no fans of the undead, of which Orcus was king. Since I had not mentioned this fact to the others, I was pleasantly surprised when Talos pondered the same aloud as he reread the note.

We ventured back to Moraldrum to meet with the king. As we entered his chamber, we caught the end of a conversation he was having with Diesa, who had been missing this day. From what I overheard, is seems Diesa's lineage continued and branched into the clan which now inhabits Moraldrum. So Diesa, physically younger, though ancient in years, is a direct ancestor of King Thonin! He had fought in a great battle among the citizens of the Empire of Nerath, who had allied themselves with the dragonborn leaders of Arkosia. It was Bal'Tarath, the empire which saw the beginning of the Teifling heritage, which stood where Dreknar was now. Diesa had fallen in battle alongside the forces of Arkosia against Dreknar's (and Corath's) ancestors.

After we let Diesa finish his tale to the king, we explained at length the events of the day. Lamenting his friend Krull's demise, he thanked us for ending his suffering, for he understood that his trusted commander was gone long ago. He asked us if we planned to stay and fight alongside the dwarves int he coming battle. We eagerly pledged our support.

There was much to be done to prepare the outnumbered dwarves for battle. In the morning Talos, Alyana, and Without would take the ship, along with our new crewmen, to Northwarden to warn Stovokor of the coming battle and perhaps enlist his aid. Thonin summoned a guard from outside and told him of this plan, and ordered the guard to find men to help work aboard the ship for the trek to Northwarden. A brilliant plan this was, and it would only take them a few days by air. We would have reinforcements in time for battle if the quest proves successful, and from what I hear of the acclaimed Stovokor, it shall be.

Elwoz and Diesa will be working with Groth's men to tend to the sick dwarves. Recalling the incantations taught by Avandra's cleric the day before, I pledged my aid to their cause. Surely I can assist the replenishment of their food supply.

Corath offered to train Thonin's men in the techniques employed by Dreknar's army in battle. He said he would work on a training regiment and drill schedule with Groth while the sick were being healed. Thonin was very pleased with Corath's offer. What an advantage we will have!

I know, however, there are still many challenges to surmount. How many dwarves will we lose to Dreknar's poison even before the battle? Will our allies reach Northwarden safely and in time to enlist aid from Baron Stovokor? Will the dwindling numbers of dwarven soldiers be able to fend off an assault from the full might of Dreknar's army?

My heart tells me yes. By Corellon's grace, we have beat back the flames of evil at every turn. Tomorrow begins a lengthy trial of preparation and training. It is my wish, nay, my belief that, with the guidance and blessings of the Divine, we will be prepared for the task ahead of us. May Corellon guide my hand as I aid the people of Moraldrum in their time of need, and may my allies travel swiftly and safely to Northwarden.