The Diary of Dalan Ratslayer

[Dalan]

…finally, forced to flee from the main doors, nearly dead and in poor spirits, we retreated to the base of the path to retrieve our mounts and pack animals. Naturally, they were no longer there. Naught but some small bloodstains and stray owlbear feathers gave evidence of there ever having been anything there at all.

Defeated, I waited for Nawoom to set up his tent; my own, like most of my equipment, was on my horse. I had not the priest's immense strength to carry all manner of gear with me at all times. Once the tent was assembled, I bade my fellows good evening and went to sleep.

15th Nightal

I know not when – or if the others rested, but I slept until dawn, not feeling much better than I had the night before. My injuries were still grievous, and at least one arrowhead was still lodged in my shoulder. I saw Saren and Nawoom praying to Tymora, and slowly moved off to get a good view of the sunrise. While the priest prayed for his spells, I silently called to Lathander for guidance. I know not if He spoke to me, but at the end of the hour, I was filled with resolve; the orc scum of the Glitterhame would pay dearly for my fallen companions’ lives. While Nawoom healed the group, I packed up his tent to ensure a quick start. After reminding the rest of the group how long and tiring the journey back to the fort would be on foot, I started up the mountain, determined to find the source of the smoke that had been constantly billowing from somewhere above us.

The deep midwinter snow slowed our movement – waiting on the heavily armoured priest slowed us even more. While we frequently lost sight of the plume, I never doubted which way we needed to go – I could have pointed to the source of the smoke without hesitation at any time during our climb. Thinking back now, I am certain that Lathander was with me this morning.

Eventually, our trek led us to a massive natural chimney far up the back of the mountain. After a great deal of planning, Tanzi tested a nearby tree for strength (Lathander's blessings continued that day, for us to find a convenient tree so far beyond the treeline was surely the act of a god) and we sent Saren down the chimney on Nawoom's rope. I followed shortly after Saren, and though my zeal nearly cost me my grip, I caught up with the lunatic quickly. The Moone was waiting at the very bottom of the chimney, over a massive bed of coals, waiting to see if he should use the pack full of snow or not. Not wanting to make more noise than absolutely needed, I gestured for him to peek into the chamber below and see if we might not be able to swing to one side of the coals instead. Saren decided that the best way to do this was by inverting himself within the chimney and using his feet to slowly descend the rope, into the chamber. After determining that nothing was about to eat him, he dropped the remaining length of the rope to see how much excess there was. After extinguishing its now smouldering end, Saren cut the last few feet of the rope off and swung off to the side. Not happy at the thought of losing sight of the group's madman, I quickly lowered myself out of the chimney and flipped to one side of the coalbed. Not unexpectedly, Saren was no where to be seen. Thankfully, he was simply well-hidden against the nearby wall, and not wandering down some tunnel.

After the two of us were safely down, Nawoom began lowering his equipment and armour down the shaft. While I did approve the large priest's plan to separate himself from his heavy gear for the descent, my feet are still somewhat sore from having to rescue his pack and mail from their place above the coals. As for what happened next, I blame myself. I should never have mentioned how hot Nawoom's armour had become where Saren could hear me; once the idea of putting the pack full of snow onto the hot armour occurred to him, there wasn't really much chance of him leaving well enough alone. This meant that by the time Tanzi made it into the cavern, Nawoom was off in the corner putting on his armour while Saren and I discussed the wisdom of making that much noise after successfully sneaking into the orcs’ kitchen.

As it turned out, I was right. The loud hissing gained us a crowd, and earned me a javelin in the shoulder. (I swear, I could go the rest of my life without ever having a projectile weapon stuck in my shoulder and die a happy man.) With Nawoom off in the corner, mucking about with his overly complicated armour, the rest of us had no decent light source, so Saren lit a torch and dropped it in the corridor from which the first orc had come, presumably planning to fight by its light. Being Saren though, he didn't bother retreating when it promptly went out, and judging by the scream a moment later, I'd say that the orcs had no trouble seeing him. Hearing his parishioner in mortal danger yet again, Nawoom Tior stopped fumbling with his greaves long enough to helpfully place his bullseye lantern at the end of the corridor so that the rest of the group could get put an end to rest of the orcs investigative group. Safe for the moment (at least from everyone who wasn't part of the group), I went back into the kitchen to help Nawoom put on his armour. Saren had decided that more than anything else, what he really needed was one of the orcs' greataxes, which meant that Nawoom was going to have to hold a lantern instead of his shield since everyone else in the group was wielding two-handed weapons.

Much to my surprise, our scouting did not turn up any more orcs. After a few minutes exploration, we found a vast storeroom, full of stolen caravan goods that the orcs did not seem to feel held much value. While I moved through the mess looking for an ambush, Saren decided to commence looting. Instead of valuables, he discovered a blocked off passage into a small chamber. The north side of the chamber had a massive metal gate, and the spaces between the bars had been completely filled with cloths and blankets of all sorts. It was obvious to me that whatever lived beyond that gate was best left alone. Nawoom, of course, seemingly forgetting all the excitement his fascination with the Glowing Ball of Obvious Evil caused back in the Sunless Citadel, decided that we should make every effort to discover just what the orcs were so scared of. After I dissuaded his interest in engaging in reckless and dangerous behaviour, Nawoom went back to happily banging on the strongbox he had found in the storeroom outside. Saren, surprisingly enough, had used this time constructively, and had moved several of the crates back into position, so that from the storeroom, it would hopefully seem as though everything was just as it had been. Initially I wondered at the idea of blocking ourselves into this room when there was still much exploring to be done and a great deal of vengeance to be had. I had not counted on Nawoom being completely drained of divine power already though; once I realised that he wouldn't be able to put Saren together again (at least until tomorrow), holing up in this easily defensible room seemed best.

 

[ChaoticInsaneLunatic]

Having read the diary in secret...

"Let there be no leave nor mention of da time he lit himself ablaze not but once but twice! Or da time he nearly killed da party not twice but thrice. And no where in this neatly writen book have i seen the glow of brilliance on the moments he tied his meak frame of a body to the heavily armored and over-weighted preist as the preist wagered his mortal coil attempting ta cross an unstable three rope bridge that clearly shouted out 'i can not support that bloak, not i today nor tommorow' yet none took notice. If it was not for I, Saren of the Moonshae, my party would have have felt the cruel demise of the reapers sythe by now. Deelee, you are ego stricken ya poor soul. But safe none the less in my Tymorian hands. You should convert before it fairs late!"
-Saren (of the Moonshae)

 

[Dalan]

Spolier Warning: This entry has some fairly large Forge of Fury spoilers

16th Nightal

Going to have to keep today’s entry short — the blood loss is making it hard to write.

For some reason, I actually let my curiosity get the better of me this morning, and told Nawoom that he could go ahead and open up a hole in the rag wall. He ripped open a small gap like a child with a present, and cast a light spell so that he could see the other side. When nothing immediately attacked, he removed more of the padding and Tanzi bent the bars apart as though the steel was little more than soft lead. I hoped over the crossbar, and Tanzi managed to climb it easily enough, but Tior I think would have had trouble if it had been only a foot off the ground, rather than three. Once we were all together in the massive dwarven hall, Saren began poking around at the charred orc skeletons.

After those first few moments of calm though, my day really went to hell. It seems that I had been more prophetic than paranoid when I told the priest that the orcs had obviously been scared of something that would fit between the bars of the gate; an ominous buzzing sound was heard only long enough to get everyone worried before the damnable stirges attacked us. I managed to injure one as it approached me, but they must have been starved, as it, and a second, both plunged their sharp beaks deep into my flesh. I pulled one from my throat and tossed it away from me, but the second was on my back where I could not reach it. I remember something heavy falling on my back before I finally passed out from the pain.

When I awoke, my wounds gone, Saren and Tanzi both looked almost as bad as I felt — the bloodsuckers had left me weak and dizzy and all I really felt up to doing was encouraging Saren to hurry up and shoot the demonic little beastie as it perched up near the ceiling, digesting its horrific meal.

Once Saren’s arrows had popped the last of the stirges like a giant mosquito, Tanzi lead us all to the door at the far end of the room. Not really feeling up to a fight just now, I hung back a bit while the others flanked the door. Finding the stone door both locked, and most likely impervious to her once-preferred method of opening doors, Tanzi simply led us to the opposite end of the room. Not liking the look of the angry dwarven face carved into this door, I again hung back from the others as they flanked Tanzi and the doorway. I should have stayed much farther away from them.

The only thing I really managed to notice before the liquid fire stole my consciousness was Nawoom Tior, somehow managing to dive clear of the sheet of flame that poured from the entire eastern wall of the hall. Perhaps happily, I passed out too quickly to really experience the worst of the burning. I woke up seconds later though, still on fire, with Tior trying to lay his hands on my body without igniting his own clothes in the process. After some rather painful efforts, I managed to extinguish the alchemists’ fire, and went to help Nawoom put out Tanzi. Seeing that Tanzi was not about to expire, the priest moved to keep Saren alive while the fire burned itself out.

I think that if I ever make it out of this gods-forsaken fortress, I may just go back to Eveningstar and spend the rest of my life quietly in the monastery. At the very least, I’m going to just shave my head at all times from now on — I’m on fire much too often for it to ever get much longer than stubble anyhow.

 

[ChaoticInsaneLunatic]

Having read the diary in secret again...

The memory of a wee knat deelee has,
Within the room of stirges primary attack did I naturaly glow with marksmanship of one blessed with the sweetest kiss from the very lips of Tymora herself.
The first wave came as I saved all with a zinging counter-storm of arrows frum me bow and sheer natural talent.
The second wave came as i grabed another handfull of strige killing arrows. And then for no known apparant reason...Deelee in his gargantuian and educated wisdom, flails forth sacrificing his own for the the good of my party. And as the invited stirges made lunch of him of all things to happen next, my party panics and step before me line of fire wacking their weapons against the enfeebled Deelee. Da poor non-Tymorian soul. So naturaly I had to intervine and save all but thricely. And I did triumphently.
There was no third wave after the failing of the first two.
Da priest did what priests do i guess and Deelee was ok.
And then after that there was alot of fire and screaming and burning and such. But living in Tymora's favor having bunrned and sizzeled twice as long as the entire party put together...i survived. Which in turn would mean my party survived as well and as I now recall...fanned my flames if anything none the less...hmm.

-Saren (of the Moonshae)

 

[Dalan]

Everything goes to hell

The next day, after some discussion, we decided that before we wandered any deeper into Kundrukar, we ought to finish exploring the caverns behind us to ensure that we hadn’t missed anything either important or dangerous. Besides that, I knew that the orcs who’d killed Belmar and Meepo were still alive and that they were somewhere in those caverns. Once the crates were again moved away from the narrow opening, we crossed the store room and headed back toward where we started.

Since we hadn’t been afraid for our lives for almost five minutes by this point, the priest got bored and decided that the quickest way to remedy the situation was to cast light on my face. With this blinding light in my face I couldn’t decide if I should be angry at Nawoom, worried about permanent damage to my eyes, or scared of getting killed by whatever evil beastie decided that my very bright face made a very good target.

While I worried about my now-impending doom, Saren apparently wandered back to the store room to find something. All I know for sure is that after a few seconds, I heard one hell of a loud clatter. I’m not sure if he found what he was looking for, but shortly after Saren came back, we could all hear orcs investigating the storeroom. Since even Saren and Nawoom realised that getting found by a large group of orcs while I was glowing like a bonfire and unable to fight would be bad, we crept up the hallway into the kitchen.

While I hid in the corner and Saren smeared some sort of gooey crap on my face to try and dim the light, the orcs sent a scout to look for us. I’m not clear on just what happened, but it seems someone tried to prevent the scout from giving us away and failed. I heard a hail of javelins clattering against the walls and floor before someone told us demanded our surrender.

Unfortunately, while trying to stall for time and generally confuse the barbaric simpletons, we may have given them the impression that there wasn’t anyone who’d be much interested in paying for our release. Since I wasn’t going to be much use in my current state, I let Saren and Nawoom do the planning. Not surprisingly, the plan involved the excessive use of fire.

By the time they got everything ready though, at least some of the orcs had become bored and wandered away from the tunnel. From what little I could see, there was next to no opposition until we reached the crossroads, where some manner of spellcaster sent Tanzi running off into the darkness, screaming her head off. After a bit more blurry motion and clanging steel, Saren pushed me out of his way – I think an orc had snuck through the narrow side passage to try and get behind us. While I bumped into a couple of walls that I couldn’t really make out, Nawoom splattered orcs left and right and eventually shouted something about the sorceress running away on him. I was too busy being distraught about my blindness to point out that that was probably a good thing.

About the same time as Saren and Tior killed the last of the orcs, Tanzi, presumably recovered from whatever magical fear had afflicted her, returned with tales of a possible exit. She wanted to give up on the plan to get back to our campsite and try to make it out of the fortress altogether. The rest of us considered it, but the desire to stick with the plan for once, combined with the uncertainty of what lay between us and this distant door convinced everyone that we’d be best off continuing to our previous night’s camp.

After a few moments’ hushed discussion, we were ready to try and get across the storeroom to the hidden crevasse and into our defensible camp room. As Saren and Nawoom jockeyed for lead position, I silently prayed to Lathander for the idiot priest’s light spell to just go away already. I’d like to believe that my prayer was answered, but it seems that the far-too-easily bored cleric had just forgotten about it since the spell ended just as soon as he told it to.

As we tried our best to quietly move across the storeroom without attracting attention to ourselves, Saren decided it might be a good idea to use the lantern to see if anyone else was in the room with us. I used to think the villagers in Eveningstar were being foolish when they said ignorance is bliss, but I was certainly happier before I saw Ulfe and his minions calmly waiting for us.

Nawoom and I moved to keep Ulfe away from the entrance to our camp while the orcs and Ulfe’s pet wolves charged Tanzi and Saren. Ulfe himself came running right up to me and started swinging that enormous axe. I don’t know if the light from Saren’s lantern was throwing off his aim, or my nervous banter had him too angry to swing straight, but I was glad that he was taking chunks out of the stone floor instead of me. Tanzi was making short work of those few orcs she could get at, but Nawoom was almost totally ineffectual against Ulfe, and Saren was getting mauled by the wolves, so I decided that it might be best if I distracted Ulfe a bit.

I quickly moved behind him, using the well edge as a pivot point for my backflip and smacked him square in the back with the magical morningstar that Nawoom had loaned me after my chain melted the day before. I guess I was still weak from the blood loss though, because the last thing I remember seeing after my sudden bout of dizziness passed was an axe bigger than my torso as it split my chest wide open.

 

[Dalan]

I think all my phobias are going to be related to Saren in some way.

18th Nightal

When I woke up in the campsite this morning, the first thing I saw was Saren cleaning blood (presumably mine) off Ulfe’s giant axe. I’m so very glad that he’s decided that objects from my nightmares will make for good trophies. Nawoom told me that after taking care of the orcs, Tanzi helped him put Ulfe down while Saren fought the wolves. Judging by the damage to his armour, Ulfe must have damned near taken Nawoom with him. He’s mostly annoyed about some orc who was throwing axes at him though.

It seems that the others are planning to stay put for another day or so, and I’m not going to argue.

 

[ChaoticInsaneLunatic]

Tales of yet another glorious battle!

(spoken to Preist Nawomb Tior while cleaning the axe)

"...and after the fire began with you unscathed by the melting of flesh and metal from the flame did ya at all think about the others, whom panic stricken state, began fanning the flames when the flames on them died? Or did ya think I, Saren of the Moonshavian Islands, enjoyed the test of resiliance against the hellish burn of the sticky, yet satisfying, fire? Oh sure it cold within this forsaken wintery tomb. And this snow outside is indeed frightful. But as a fan of flame I asked not for the flames to be fanned. Or fer ya to sit idlely by. So as I got tired of screaming as I burned, as I watched me armor and stuff begin to melt and fall away, as I asked Tymora if this cruel fate was mine, I decided that...oh hey look what poor would-be corpse awoke! Whatcha think of me new axe Deelee? Ha...what was I saying?"

-Saren (of the Moonshae)

 

[shaemas]

The way of the Raven

As the group had just finishing off the group of orcs in the slaughter hallwa, we decided to rest for a little while. With my magical powers drained I also thought this was a good idea. But ididn't dare tell the rest of the group that my powers were draining. that would be a sign of weakness and with Tanzi around you didn't dare say the word weak!

After some rest the group opens the door and rounds the next corner. waiting them was another..... group of orcs (go figure - this being a campaign with nothing but your typicvals orcs and skeletons). After THAT group of orcs - the party then decided to open the next door. Guess what we found. HAHA nope wasn't orcs - got you there! It was a 6 doorways. We, in our infinite wisdom, decided to open all 6 doors at one time. After that things got fuzzy and all I remember is " look at all the damn orcs!"

When I awoke or rather came into redefined conciousness, I realized I was either dead or saved by some god. After a little searching my instincts told me that I had acquired a magical ring that transported me into the realm of SHADOW!

And so begins my tale of that realm. A realm backwards life, of backwords people and their backward ideas!


Stay tuned for the next episode of ..............

The Way if the Raven!

 

[Dalan]

A new member, an old member, and a some freed hostages.

19th Nightal

Feeling a little better, we resumed our efforts to explore the caverns.

We found an orc-built wooden door, and heard someone making noise behind it. A quick look at the floor allowed me to determine that the door didn’t get opened much, and would probably be quite loud and attract a fair bit of attention once it was.

We left it behind for the time being to try and find the exit Tanzi had seen two days earlier. The large stone doors looked quite familiar, and once it was determined safe enough, we pushed it open. We’d found our way back to the chasm that had taken Balmor’s life. Since the bridge was still out, we headed back up to the wooden door; after paying our respects. Finding the door locked, I let Saren go ahead and try to trick the inhabitants into letting us in. The only thing we heard was more muffled struggling. After the priest and I agreed that it sounded like someone trying to shout through a gag, Tanzi and Nawoom charged the door as one and more or less obliterated it.

Once we freed and fed the two halfling prisoners, I managed to calm them down and convince them that, appearances and behaviour aside, none of my companions had any interest in harming them. Reassured that we really were rescuing them, the halflings told us that they were taken prisoner when their caravan was raided and had been left to rot in the cage while the orcs waited to see if anyone was interested in paying for them.

With charges in tow, our explorations were now focused mainly on finding a way out of the orcs’ lair so that we could return them to civilization. Since the caverns had been explored, we headed for the hallway at the far end of the storage room. At one end we found a short staircase leading to a door and another door just before the hall ended with a large statue of a dwarf. Apparently oblivious to what happened last time we mucked about with things with carved dwarven images, Saren happily waltzed right up to the statue, and set off some sort of gas trap. It didn’t seem to do anything to him the first time, but the gas didn’t look at all healthy. I guess he forgot to hold his breath the second time though, because after the second burst of green vapour flowed from the statue, our resident loon looked quite ill. Since Saren was done playing with dangerous statuary, we opened the door and moved into what seemed like a pretty disgusting bunkroom. Tanzi and Saren went into looter mode while I kept watch on Nawoom to make sure he didn’t threaten to eat the halflings.

Still hoping to find a way out, or at least the room with the arrowslits, we carefully approached the door at the top of the stairs. It seems that the human skull that was nailed to the door was just Ulfe’s way of saying “No Admittance” and not a warning of deadly traps ahead. After seeing the state of the ogre’s room, we were no longer surprised by his horrid stench. If you’re not smart enough to disregard your own feces, can you really be considered to be more than an animal?

Having still not found an exit, we decided we’d have to head back into the dungeon and check the far end of the hall. We didn’t have to go far before finding a second bunkroom, not significantly different from the first.

With all the halls and tunnels and rooms in the orc’s lair searched – and surprisingly empty since at least two of the orcs had escaped alive – we had no choice but to return to the room with the stairs and the fire trap. After Tanzi again bent the bars apart, we all climbed through. Worried more about one of them setting it off than about lighting them on fire, I made certain that everyone stayed well away from the dwarf-faced door as I desperately searched for the triggering mechanism, or at least the openings that the alchemist’s fire had blasted out of. Unable to find anything, and having neither the skill nor equipment nor strength to open the other door, we had no choice but to go deeper into the Glitterhame in our efforts to get out of it.

After descending deeper into the mountain for a few minutes, we discovered an underground stream that had cut into the rough stairwell. It wasn’t very wide, or very deep, but it was very cold, and quite fast. We managed to get across just before the stirges attacked.

I’m really, really starting to dislike stirges.

This lower level seems to be mostly vast caverns and cold, fast, deep streams. The stairs led into the first of several such caverns. After looking around for a few moments (made a lot easier by the bits of phosphorescent moss growing on the walls and ceilings), I decided to investigate the small shelf on the wall just above the point that the stream entered the wall. While I didn’t find any stashes of gold to donate to Lathander, I did discover that some sort of three-toed bipeds were crawling through the opening fairly frequently. Curiosity satisfied, I encouraged everyone to jump across the stream so that we could continue our search for a way out. Tanzi and Saren both made the jump without too much difficulty, but Nawoom the Turtle Priest, unsurprisingly, managed to jump only a few feet, and landed squarely in the centre of the water. Saren dove into the water before anyone had time to tell him what getting that cold can do to a person. While Saren fought the current, Tanzi simply reached down and hauled Nawoom out of the water with a single lift. Once Saren climbed out of the river and began stripping his soaked clothing off, I encouraged the halfling merchants to take running jumps across the river. I suppose that wasn’t really the best idea though, since Geradil didn’t get much further than Nawoom. Saren, somehow still able to function while turning blue, dove back in to save the little guy while Courana quailed at the sight of her husband floating downstream. Once Geradil was returned to dry land, I acquiesced to the halfling-tossing plan that the others had suggested earlier. I really had expected the merchants to be able to jump better than an armour-plated, overweight priest though. Once Courana was across, thankfully without any serious injury, I was the only one left. The massive blood loss that the stirges had inflicted on me chose the final step of my run up to cause me to nearly faint – I suppose there would have been more inopportune moments to collapse, but I doubt that most of them would have been as embarrassing as that.

Finally beyond the accursed streams, we began exploring the caverns. By this point, the rest of the party seemed to have forgotten about our goal of getting the halflings home to Blaisingdell – every time I tried to point out that getting ourselves killed by doing something stupid would be a bad thing, they began to make “coward” comments. At me. The hero of this little group of lunatics and loot seekers. So I wasn’t really surprised when Tanzi insisted on looting the dwarven tombs we found, despite the warning about Moradin’s curse befalling desecraters.

I have to admit though; the chain she found me is a thing of beauty. Courana read enough of the dwarven runes on it to tell me that it has the entire story of the Forge of Fury written on its links. I’m going to have to spend some time trying to decipher the whole thing next time we have some significant downtime. For now I’ll simply have to accept using it to remove the orc scum from these dwarven halls.

Not far from the tomb, we found yet another underground stream. This one was much bigger and moving much faster though. A quick investigation proved that the roaring sound we’d heard was in fact a waterfall, just as we had thought. It’s really too bad that we hadn’t made more of an effort to look at the rest of the cavern though – we might have noticed how slippery the rock near the water was before we started sliding down it. I’ll just have to look on the bright side – I can add going over a waterfall to the list of things I’ve survived…

After recovering Courana – and my new chain – we returned to main cavern and began following the path through the fungal forest, toward the steel door we’d seen from the vantage point of the tomb area. While we didn’t get attacked by anything hiding between the giant mushrooms (yet) – Saren and Nawoom did manage to attract the attention of some sort of tentacled monsters that were hiding on top of a ledge that the path went right next to.

My attempts to free Saren from the mass of tentacles that were wrapped around his head were thwarted when a third set attacked me and began hauling me up into the air while choking out what life was left in me. Before I passed out, I saw Raven and some elf come wandering out of the mushroom forest. When I woke up a little later, on the ground at Tanzi’s feet, Saren was busy trying to pick a fight with the new guy.

No longer all that interested in the door, or much of anything else for that matter, we fell back to the hall between this room and the river to make camp. While this new druid fellow went off to gather some edible mushroom, Raven explained something about a cursed ring that takes him to the Shadow plane and then back to normal reality at random times. I wonder if it will always bring him to where the rest of us are?

 

[Dalan]

Rest and Relaxation behind enemy lines

20th Nightal

Today, I mostly just laid around and regretted having ever left Eveningstar. Still, that magic Nawoom used on me has me feeling a lot better. If he does that once or twice more, no one would be able to tell I’d ever been bitten by any stirges.