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.
