Dear Journal,
One gets used to the musky stench of this place rather quickly when one is desperate for warmth. Moraldrum's lower city is heated by an array of ever-buring forges. The searing heat of the burning coals and the hissing steam of cooling metal upon water is the dwarves lifeblood. I find proximity to the furnaces and forges most comfortable, but the cavern fortress is not warmed as it should be. The magical storm sends a cold wind through the avenues and walkways of Moraldrum, chilling its citizens.
I arose from my meditative trance early this morning at yet another assault from the Tear of Ioun. I heard its mocking voices in Wellspring, and I heard them in Malachi's fortress. Thought I hear it now still, I am able to block it out. I was able to defend myself once more, but the latest assault left me weary, and it took me several hours to regain focus. I retreated farther below deck as our mental battle waged on, for I do not wish to involve or upset the others.
When I finally came above deck, the others were gathered at the starboard railing, pointing into the distance. To the northwest sat an ominous dark cloud which flashed with colorful streaks of lightning. Elwoz, noting that he had seen such a storm once before, identified it as a rift between this world and the elemental chaos. Cheers rang out as we realized our opportunity to destroy the tear, but Corath held up his hand to silence us, noting that the dwarves have no more than two weeks to prepare for the Dreknar assault. Knowing they must be completely off guard, we pondered for a moment before deciding to press on to Moraldrum. The tear caught a break today, for I value the life of the countless souls in Moraldrum and Merkemia that would fall to the might of Dreknar. I shall continue to carry the tear as long as it takes.
My spirits were low for a long while until we spied a mountain rising over the horizon. As we sailed on a bit further, we could see the face of a mighty fortress through the snowfall. The mountain ran from horizon to horizon, breaking in this one spot to form a natural pass. It is here the dwarves build their tremendous towers, flanking a stone wall and an enormous ornate door. Tiny dots scurried about the tops of the towers, indicating we were also visible to them. We descended onto the top of one of the towers and were greeted by a crowd of hammers and axes. Ballistas and crossbowmen took aim upon our vessel as it groaned to a halt and slowly sank down to meet the cool stone.
As we disembarked, led by Talos and Alyana, the dwarves lowered their arms and began excitedly chattered amongst themselves. The crowd parted as we were met by a well-decorated, though nervous-looking dwarf. As Talos requests an audience with King Thonin, for he knows of Moraldrum from dwelling within Merkemia all his days, our dwarf greeter takes the time to introduce himself as Commander Krull, second-in-command to King Thonin himself.
Krull explains that, as the 42nd, we are well respected amongst the people of Moraldrum, and would be allowed an audience with the king. However, he stops Corath and our other crewmen, who wear the insignia of the Dreknar empire. Though we protested, Krull would not budge, shooting a angry glare at Corath as he repeated his order. Corath accepted, agreeing to use this time to mend the ship and monitor Without's condition.
As we were escorted to the king's chambers, Talos explained that, though the dwarves of Moraldrum were allies of the kingdom of Merkemia, they were very reclusive and did not typically entertain visitors. They were obviously making an exception for the 42nd, much to Krull's chagrin.
All the dwarves we passed gazed in awe of the two veteran members of the 42nd. As we were led through the city, the banging of blacksmith hammers ceased along our path and those in view hooted and cheered. Annoyed at the attention we were receiving, Krull was obviously trying to lead us through less densely populated areas of the lower city.
One excited dwarf ran alongside our procession, shouting "Where is the hero Terrion?". Talos somberly told the dwarf that Terrion had fallen in battle. At the sight of the dwarf's deflated esteem, I attempted to bolster the poor creature's spirits by telling him Terrion fell a hero, for he took countless enemies with him to the grave. It warmed my heart to see the dwarf swell with pride once more.
We entered through a great iron door in an ornately decorated stone wall. The wall carvings seemed to depict a scene of dwarven conquest of the mountain from what appeared to be orcs. Onward we were led to a small chamber at the end of a well-guarded hallway. As we entered, we were met by the sight of a sickly dwarf sat up on the edge of a small bed.
King Thonin greeted us with a rattling cough. As he made a move to stand, Talos held out his hand to stay him. This dwarf, though proud and sturdy, was gravely ill, and was doing too much to sit up as it was. I explained the urgency of our message and our desperate need to speak with him concerning Dreknar. Krull, all the while, stood in the corner of the room, still eyeing us suspiciously. Talos and I exchanged knowing glances which indicated he shared my uneasiness over the commander's presence. We asked the king if we could speak with him alone, for the message was very sensitive. Krull began to protest, but the king raised his weakened hand to silence him and ordered him out of the room.
As we began to update King Thonin on our adventures, I could not shake a nagging feeling that we were being observed. I motioned for Talos to check the door, and when he swung it open, there stood Krull, who had been pressing his ear to the door in an effort to eavesdrop. Annoyed, Thonin barked for Krull to leave. The grumbling dwarf shot Talos an evil sneer and stomped away.
The king was aghast that there would be a traitor among the dwarves, though he said he should have seen the evidence. The storms would conveniently escalate when anyone would leave the fortress. Troops sent to Northwarden for supplies were either turned back by the raging tempest, or never returned.
To our amazement, Thonin explained that Baron Stovokor now leads the city of Northwarden, Merkemia's sentinel city on the Dreknar border. Stovokor must be notified of this calamity that threatens both Moraldrum and Merkemia, but Thonin has no more men to send. Not only has he fallen ill, hundreds of his men are in a similar condition.
We explained to Thonin that we have been getting a very uncomfortable feeling from Krull since we arrived, and it may be best if he not share any more tactical information with his commander until we conduct a thorough investigation. Talos also insisted the king should not accept any more food from his kitchens, handing him several days of his own rations. The king reluctantly accepts our terms, and agreed to allow us to have the freedom to go where we please within Moraldrum. He also relented on Krull's order to keep Corath on the ship, for he is just as much a part of the 42nd as any of us, and we owe him our lives countless times over.
We opened the door and called in one of the guards. Thonin repeated his order to allow us to conduct a special investigation within the city. He said the shops within Moraldrum would be most accomodating to our needs as well, insisting our fame would bring us a handsome discount whereever we went. Leaving Thonin with our thanks and blessings, we followed the guard back to our airship.
Without stood at the top of the ship's ramp as we ascended onto the tower platform. Clutching the orb, which seemed to have lost some of its sinister coloration, Without exclaimed that he had been given a series of visions. The orb, in a frantic attempt to contact Without, stuck him unconscious long enough to relay an important message. In two visions, Without explained, the orb had attempted to warn him of our fate. In the first vision, Without witnessed the 42nd, without the Tear of Ioun, in valiant battle within an empowering shower of light, slashing down foes and vanquishing evil. In another, we were shrouded in a dark fog, the tear pulsing a red glow from within my pack. The orb cracked and shattered, and we were cast into oblivion.
Without has been given direct orders from the orb, it seems, to destroy the Tear of Ioun, lest it detroy us and everything we hold dear. In spite of this dire news, Without insisted we retain our hope, for the orb is able to fight off the assault from the tear if its power is not unleashed often. How shocked I was to hear this! The tear is not lying dorment and collecting power to assault me! It is in constant battle with the orb! This short time we have spent apart has allowed the orb to cleanse itself from the tear's corruption.
Corath had explained to Without where we were, and the well-rested Without was eager to venture out into the city. We decided it wouldn't hurt to visit the local shops and gather supplies while we had the time.
We decided to split up and return to the ship when we each were ready to rest for the night. I made my way to the fortress's infirmary and, after asking directions, was led to a small carved archway in the cavern walls. As I ducked into the opening, I entered a quaint little magic shop. The walls were covered in parchments and books, and on several scattered tables lay magical trinkets and crystals. Introducing himself as Gunt Orcsmasher, and clad in the garments of a cleric of Avandra, the shopkeeper approached me and asked what I needed. I asked to see his ritual manuals, to study while I was in Moraldrum and perhaps master some additional incantations. After all, I am quite out of practice. I rely more on the divine manifestation within me, and rarely have a need for magical spells. However, those few I know have come in quite handy in my recent travels, and I felt it necessary to improve my skills for the good of the 42nd as a whole.
He explained that he is not really in the business of magical rituals. He knew a few himself, but had none for sale. Most of the books and parchments I saw, he said, were chronicles of adventurers long gone, or alchemical recipes. Then he smiled at me and told me he had something special just for me. He claimed it was Avandra, goddess of the wanderers, who had led me to him, and he could not ignore the sign. From behind his counter he pulled his personal spellbook. He began flipping furiously through the pages until he came to two pages with green dwarven writing.
He recognized me as one who appreciates the wonders of nature, and offered to teach me two incantations contained within his spellbook. He asked for my ritual book, turned to an open page, and placed a small yellow crystal atop it. He then told me to place my hand atop the crystal, and take his hand in the other. He placed his free hand upon his spellbook and began muttering an incantation in the dwarven tongue.
His incantations stopped and, in an instant, a wave of energy pulsed through me into the crystal, and beautifully written Elvish appeared on the blank page of my tome. Suddenly Gunt appeared unnerved. Shaking off his worrisome expression, he told me to meditate with my book in the night, and the book would speak to me, instilling the incantations in my mind.
He then began guiding me out of his shop. He told me he wished me luck in my travels and, pointing to my pack, told me never to bring "that" anywhere near his shop again. His expression answered my next question. He had felt the tear's influence during his spell. I thanked him and assured him I'd like to be rid of it soon.
I considered looking for a leathercrafter or similar armorer, but I was growing tired. My attire suits me well enough, I suppose. I met Talos and we walked together, admiring the intricate detail of the dwarven structures. We stopped on our way by the general store to replenish our gear. I had expended my sunrods, and my ink supply had run low. As we left, Elwoz was crawling on his hands and knees upon the cold stone outside the shop, calling out to Stoneroot, an ancient primal spirit created by Moradin before the Dawn War. Noticing us, he paused for a moment and instructed us to be on the lookout for the fire goat and tell him to get back to work. Mad and drunk as he his, one must appreciate his wise attempt to get in touch with dwarven history. Here's hoping his efforts prove worthwhile.
As we all arrived back on the ship, we assembled below deck to rest. Elwoz emerged from the storage room with several bottles of wine held clumsily in his arms. Pleased at his find, we all sat for a while and talked, passing the bottles around. Blim, our gnome crewman, and Without spoke together at length, since this was their first real meeting, and the gnomes and halflings always seem to share a deep comradery. Perhaps it is their size and perspective on the world which gives them common ground. Regardless, our new crewmen adjusted quickly.
I see it is time for my rest, for my thoughts are losing cohesion and I am beginning to ramble. Thank Corellon for guiding us to this safe place. It is good to let down our guard for a night and rest easy. May the light open our eyes tomorrow so that we may get to the bottom of the troubles facing the dwarves, and perhaps identify the traitor among them. Our time is short for, by Corath's estimate, we have about two weeks before the army of Dreknar assembles. Though the odds are against us, I have faith that we will prevail. We are here for a reason.
