Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 13

Dear Journal,

It appears the others believe any mongrel is worth interrogating. We've picked up an odious cyclops here in the wilderness, and they are laboring under the misapprehension that the information he provides will be fruitful.

As usual, I am getting ahead of myself. It's best if I explain how we came upon this unfortunate situation.

We gathered ourselves this morning, fresh and invigorated by a valiant conquest. It occurred to us that we are now miles beyond enemy territory with a corrupted relic whose powers threaten us even as I write.

As we discussed our predicament, Elwoz grew tired and disinterested, opting to venture outside the fortress in search of food. He and Alyana embarked on a hunt as the rest of us began searching Malachi's study for any texts that would provide clues to the Tear's weaknesses. Corath, ever paranoid, kept watch for the hunters' return. Talos, Diesa, Without, and I began digging through dust-covered tomes and tattered scrolls.

After we were done, Without had stained countless documents with the poisonous touch of his erratic magic, Talos broadened his vocabulary, and we taught Diesa that it was not necessary to speak every word that was read. More importantly, we discovered some interesting details about the Tear of Ioun, despite the distraction it inflicted on our minds while in its presence.

Malachi, motivated by the facination he and his countrymen have with the demon lord Orcus, was attempted to construct a permanent rift between this plane of existence and the Far Realm. We were lucky to arrive when we did, for the Far Realm contains horrors the likes of which I cannot bear to impress upon these pages. We learned that the Tear was once a conduit of prophetic knowledge, and determined another possible use would be to alter the course of history by corrupting future events. Our readings suggested it was powerless within the Far Realm, and that its capacity for magic was finite. So this left us with two choices; tempt fate by bringing the Tear to the Far Realm, or finding a power great enough to destroy the Tear from within.

We chose to destroy the Tear through magical means, for we cannot risk the jewel to fall into the wrong hands once again. Since purification will not work, the only course of action is to purge it from existence. Our readings indicated that the Elemental Chaos may be our only source of magic powerful enough to rival the Tear. Tattered maps and the yellowed pages of historical tomes told us that this land has a strong connection to the primordial plane, but did not indicated any rifts between the worlds.

Sensing Malachi may have known where to find such a portal, I once again consulted the arcane powers and attempted the ritual my dear Dierdre taught me. I readied Malachi's body as the ritual dictated, and recited the incantations. Though I was in complete control of my faculties, the essence of this room was corrupted. From within my pouch, the Tear's influence still held sway. My link to the corpse was weakened by the madness radiating from the Tear. The body animated, but was barely able to speak. It told us of Malachi's search for the city of Doors, which held a portal to the various different planes which existed within the ether. Malachi knew an entrance dwelt within the Kingdom of Mercemia, and he had sent others to search, but had not located it. This was all we were able to retrieve, for the bond weakened, and I could feel control shifting to the Tear. Malachi's vessel began to grin, then quietly laugh as it began to absorb the Tear's dark energy. I elected to sever the link at that moment, leaving the body, still with a contorted smirk upon its face, limp and lifeless on the floor.

Our only hope now was to attempt to find civilization amongst this feral land. Luckily, Elwoz and Alyana were able to procure a boar on their expedition, which provided us with warm skins and a hearty meal. We dearly needed these comforts for the trek that awaited us. We set out from the fortress, battling the blistering cold winds. Alyana scouted ahead, and came upon the body of a cyclops. His wounds were remeniscent of those inflicted by a bear, but much more viscious. We knew that there must be an owlbear close by. However, his purse was empty, which indicated that this beast did not act alone, for no owlbear has use for coin.

Alyana led us to a cavern in the side of a steep mountainside. Night was approaching now, and the frigid temperatures would drop even lower. This was a convenient discovery. Unfortunately, the cave was already occupied. Alyana heard several voices, and was led to believe they belonged to the ex-acquantances of the murdered cyclops. We struck hard and fast. Within the cave dwelt 3 of the cyclops's breatheren and the viscious owlbear we had been expecting. We attempted to give the creature a wide bearth, but his reach was impressive. Without attempted again to use his chaotic little artifact, which rendered one of our enemies immune to our sight. Fortunately for us, this mattered little, as we were able to defeat our foes swiftly.

One cyclops clung to life. As I moved in for the kill, our most pious paladin stepped between us, ordering us to spare the life of this swine. To think, the devout Dragonborn sparing the life of an idol worshipper. Perhaps he knew little of this particular cyclop's beliefs. I could smell it on him. Among the scent of fear and shame, I can still sense the presence of the damned Feymorians. These brutes worshipped them as if they were gods, feeding their misguided egos and serving them like eager slaves. It disgusts and enrages me.

He told us of a Dwarven city to the southeast which would take months to reach, and an almost equidistant village within Dreknar's borders to the direct south. His village was a day's trek west. He knew of no other civilization among this chilled region.

Though I consider that somewhat helpful, I do not think he will be of any further use to us. However, the others feel it necessary to keep him here among us, bound so he may not flee. As I write, he lays curled up by the fire, snoring and grunting like a wild animal.

I am afraid I must attend to my prayers and meditations. I do not look forward to following this dim-witted lout through the wilderness, but perhaps his experience among the frigid tundra may prove worthwhile, though no doubt it will be exhausting. Thank you, Corellon, for guiding us to this shelter. Though the cold still pours in from the gaping mouth of the cave, it is comforting to be hidden from any unwanted attention from whatever beasts may be prowling this wilderness. Please watch over us and keep us safe and warm in the coming trek.

Diary of Gallanor Orren: Entry 12

Forgive me, Journal, for I am battered and weakened by today's battle. I fear I haven't much energy to be overly verbose.

As we broke the surface from the tunnels we fought our way through, we found ourselves in the fortress's courtyard. Apparently we had raised enough alarm outside and below, for there was no one at their posts. The ballistas pointed outward, ready for our frontal assault. I am glad we chose the path that we did.

In the courtyard stood a domed building which housed a villainous laboratory. Books, mortar and pestal sets, and furiously scribbled notes were strewn about the room before an immense, spinning orrey. This device, imbued with a powerful magic, assaulted us with powerful arcane blasts. We knew this device must have been feeding power to the tear, so we set out to destroy it.

Diesa, Without, and I used our combined powers to damper the orrey's dark energy, and Corath and Alyana sneaked between its treacherous gears to strike at its inner mechanisms. It was a long and exhausting ordeal, but we emerged victorious, rendering the device useless.

But we were not finished. We felt closer and closer to the Tear with each step. Finding another entrance to the dungeons below, we came upon Malachi's study. We burst in, ready for seek vengeance for his madness.

Using the power of the Tear, Malachi was attempting to cause a dimensional rift, inviting horrors only known to the the depths of the Far Realm.

No force, mundane or divine, could protect Malachi from my vengeance. I was determined to make him pay for his sins. Though Malachi was resourceful in summoning monstrosities from beyond the portal, we focused our attacks on him, striking him down swiftly as his lackeys retreated back into the rift as it flickered closed.

Wrapping the Tear in a cloth, I gave it once last deep stare before I stuffed it into my satchel. One can see that this relic was once a beautiful tribute to the God of Truth. But now it is tainted with great evil. At this distance, I can almost hear it mocking us. It seems to take on a sentience all its own. I know I am being silly, but I could almost swear it was staring back at me. I will carry the burden of this abomination until we see it destroyed. It has taken too much.

Tomorrow I am sure we will find a way out of this place, and find a way to destroy the Tear once and for all. Keep watch over us, my king, and help us to rid the world of this evil.