Dear Journal,
It has been quite the adventurous day! I am torn between the excitement of glorious battle with the enemies of Corellon and concern for the well-being of one of my partners.
Our rest in the night was interrupted by a gaggle of nymphs. I detected a form sifting through Elwoz's belongings and, without thinking, I fired a divine bolt toward the thief. Though my aim was poor, the momentary illumination revealed a startled wood nymph and other shadows moving amongst the trees. Though not normally a terrible threat to travelers, these nymphs, taking to thievery, were obviously very desperate. I had ruined any chance of diplomacy through my overzealous response, and battle ensued. Soon more forms appeared, surrounding our campsite.
The nymphs skillfully wielded their daggers and possessed strong, seductive magic. To boot, we were in their home, and they drew strength from the surrounding trees, stubbornly battling their wounds and pressing on with the fight. We were at a great disadvantage, despite Without's current affliction of arching strands of lighting illuminating the battlefield. In the end, two nymphs remained and, realizing their misfortune, finally succumb to negotiations.
In the battle, our foolish guide decided to flee, running into the dark night with his hands still bound. Thankfully, our prisoners offered to guide us to the end of the forest in the direction we needed to go.
Not late into our trek, the nymphs were alerted to one of their many traps. The cyclops had attempted to take refuge in a large burrow into a tree trunk, finding himself trapped in an illusion of a deep cavern, with no escape. He was more delighted to see us than he was ashamed at being recaptured.
The nymphs led us safely to the end of the forest, guiding us around many of their magical traps. As we broke the tree line into another frozen valley before a large mountain range which ran parallel to the forest., the nymphs turned back into the forest.
As we reached the mountain base, Alyana scouted ahead. She returned with news of two possible paths. The first was guarded by a group of Drow in front of a large tarp. The other was a cave entrance. We decided to follow the cavern, believing it would help us avoid unnecessary conflict with the Drow.
The cyclops led us to a door at the cavern entrance through which we heard the rumbling snore of another elderly cyclops our prisoner called Bouge. Our guide broke away from us, barreling into the room to warn of our arrival, but as he entered the room beyond the door and short hallway, he fell through a well-hidden trap door. None of this seemed to alarm the senile sentry much. After speaking briefly with the squinting old coot, he let us pass, slipping into a deep sleep while babbling quietly to himself.
Talos had to drag me away from a fomorian statue which I was busy trying to topple. It was well beyond why my strength would allow, but I was caught up in my anger at these treacherous monsters. Through the fog of rage, I left the room with my allies, overhearing the cyclops muttering the word "digba". I barely hear him over the sound of my companions shushing my stream of curses. I suspected there were fomorians about this place.
We ascended a flight of stairs into a cleaned carved rectangular room with walls at perfect right angles to the floor and ceiling. On either end of the room sat an active forge. Three iron statues against separate walls stood guard over a flaming pedestal in the center of the room. Within the flames rested a shimmering ring. The allure of this trinket was too much for Alyana to pass up, and as soon as she plucked the ring from the flames with the nimble flick of one of her arrows, one of the statues animated. As it approached Talos, preparing to strike, I felt the urge to repeat the word the old man muttered as we left the cavern entrance. "Digba" sent the statue back to its post where it stood quiet and still once again. We were not taking any chances, however, and heaved the statues into the forges, melting them down to a molten liquid.
Through a short hallway, around a corner, lie an entrance to a dining hall. Alyana scouted this area and returned with news of a fomorian. I do not recall the rest of her report, as the news of a fomorian sent me marching around the corner and into the room, the others scurrying to maintain a defensive position. I tore into the room, faced with three cyclopes, one female and two elderly males, and a lumbering, grotesque fomorian. I lept upon a table, making a point to brandish every piece of Corellon themed jewelry and insignias, and mustered all of my willpower. A radiant ball of flame set the formorian ablaze as I rebuked him and his kind. He rushed at me as my allies tore into the room, blades singing alongside the plucked tune of Alyana's bowstrings and Diogi's threatening growl. The fomorian was able to reach out with his whip and strike me down from the table, leaving me reeling from a blow backed by wicked necrotic energy. Talos was able to hold him for a while, but soon fell under the hypnotic spell of the accursed beast and was incapacitated. It was Elwoz who felled the monster, summoning a hazy spirit from the surrounding stone to assail the fomorian's spirit, leaving the beast a withered, empty shell. The battle quickly turned again the heretic's minions.
There are fewer things in existence I despise more than the fomorian. They declare themselves the best of the Fey races, while allowing lower, less intelligent beings to openly worship them as living gods. So deep is their hatred of Corellon's beauty and magic that they devote their very being to undermining the Divine's influence and creations. It brings me great pleasure to have seen the fall of one of their kind. Elwoz refuses to take credit upon my congradulations, granting the honor upon the spirit he conjured. Though I was only able to detect a deep, smokey haze surround our foe, Elwoz insists it was the spirit of a dire lobster from a time when this land was far beneath a great sea. I believe the forces of nature guide him and bring him great power, but I find his often detailed descriptions to be suspect when his drunken vision barely allows him the ability to lace his boots.
We ascended another flight of stairs into a small chamber on a flat opening to the surface, into which Corath and Alyana ventured. We remained behind, awaiting their signal. Upon the first cries of battle, we stormed out just as Alyana and Corath were engaging a couple of drow and a hideous drider. To think the drider's form is actually considered a blessing from the Spider Queen. Well her and her followers be damned, for the curse of the drow proved to be the lesser against the might and power of the 42nd.
Our battle was not without its challenges, however, and I did not remain conscious for its conclusion. The surface storm was raging once again, and our vision was severely obstructed. The stealthy drow dove in and out of the shadows, striking with weapons laced with dizzying poison. Elwoz was the first to succumb to the venom as a Drow's blade nicked his right side. Getty pushed the drow back from his master, back into the melee of Talos and Corath's blades. In moments, however, Elwoz had dropped to the ground, rendered unconscious from his tainted wound.
I, too, was struck on my forearm as I sloppily parried a blow from a rushing drow who caught me off guard. A blast from my magical rod sent him to his eternal rest. In the midst of the storm, we could make out the towering form of an airship, and I made my way towards it, in hopes of readying an escape if the need arose. As I neared the ship, I saw it was manned by no more than five grimlocks, bustling about the deck. I gathered my remaining strength and summoned a great wind which blew the monsters from the desk, off into the roaring white oblivion. As I ran up the ramp to the deck, I tried to hold on to consciousness, for the sounds of battle behind me had not ended, and I feared for my allies. Unfortunately, the drow's poison was too strong. Darkness overtook me.
I awoke later to the others standing over me, ushering me onto the ship for our departure. After learning that the enemies were neutralized, I felt obliged to christen our new vessel with something from the heart. I retreated briefly back into the mountain tunnels, coming upon the fomorian corpse. Cleaving his head from his shoulders, I returned to the ship and affixed it at the bow. Let all those before us know we are enemies of evil!
As we took inventory of the ship's supplies, we noticed Without was frantic. Sweat rolled off his face in buckets, and we though he had been caught by the drows' poison as well, but he simply pulled his orb from his pack, rolled his eyes back into his head, and collapsed, still clutching his magical relic.
He still breathed, and his heart rate was normal, but he would not respond to our attempts to wake him, so we gently put him to rest in the lower decks, upon a bed in the crew's quarters. His orb was turning a crimson shade of red, and dark, black cracks appeared deep within the sphere. I suspect it is the cause of Without's affliction, though there is nothing we can do but wait and pray.
We have decided to travel to the land of the dwarves, since the trek will not take as long by air, and it will do us good to be amongst allies of the kingdom once again. Perhaps there are skilled clerics who will be able to determine what ails our halfling friend. For now, Diesa stands by his bedside, chanting prayers and incantations to ward off any potential sickness, but there is still no sign of improvement.
Our flight has taken us a significant distance from the mountain, by my estimation. The storm still continues, and it is hard to gauge distances or even see clearly what lies around us. We have momentarily stopped in a clearing to rest for the night. It is a much needed rest, for the battles we faced today have surely taken their toll, and left us with more questions. Why has the Dreknar empire enlisted the aid of Fey monsters and Underdark thugs? What are they planning now?
Again Corellon has blessed us with success in our battles, and fueled my determination against this Dreknar enemy. I had once believed my allegiance with these warriors of the kingdom to be appropriate to combat a general evil threat of the Tear. It has now become personal. The forces of Dreknar ally themselves with the enemies of Corellon himself! Their guilt for the sins again the races of the feywild extend by association. I look forward to the fall of Dreknar, and I shall see it through until the end.
I am to take first watch tonight, Journal. I shall write again tomorrow, no doubt of our continued success against the forces of evil. May His light guide the way and His grace follow us wherever this journey leads.
