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.
