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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Mahiro Satsu" data-source="post: 304791" data-attributes="member: 4970">Episode X Ooltugula’s PortalCharacters: Bronn Spellforger (shield dwarf male Wiz7); Caramip Murnig (gnome female Brd6); Roman Gemalee (gold elf male Ftr6); Saeita Neví (wild elf female Mnk7); Van Dyksun (human male Rgr4/Rog2/Clr1); Velm Trueforger (shield dwarf male Ftr5/Clr2–Clangeddin).from the journal of Velm TrueforgerThe crunching clack-clack of wagon wheels on a leaf-strewn autumn road is the most comforting sound I’ve heard in these past two months. I am headed along this road in the company of a mule named Lars, my destination Thunderstone, village of my birth. My name is Velm Trueforger, Hatchet of Clangeddin, blood of Nor.At first glance you’d think me an everyday dwarf, with my simple green hood and battered boots. My blond beard is as braided as the next dwarf’s. Hail and well met to you, fellow. But look a little more closely and you will see the long handle of a waraxe propped beside me. Is that otherworldly shine the evidence of light glancing off mithril?Look more closely still, and you will see my scars. I’m laced with them; they stitch me together. Aye, my spirit has traveled beyond this world to stand at the side of the Lord of the Twin Axes, and I’ve seen things beneath this world that would turn your hair white and cause you to fall over stone dead.And when you see the crossed silver axes hanging from my broad neck by a stout chain, you know I speak the truth. I am headed home to bury my dead. My wagon’s canvas tarp shrouds the doomed and the lost. But we saw it through to the end, didn’t we?*** *** ***Eleint 28-29After we had put an end to the Spawning Mother, she who had birthed into the darkness score upon score of wretched and stinking troglodytes, we stayed briefly within the Hall of Clangeddin. But there the water was crusted with an oily foam, and we thought it best to retreat into the corridors of Moradin’s Fane and shelter in the Hall of Gorm Gulthyn, the Fire-Eyes, protector of dwarves.Our rest was punctuated by mysterious happenings, as well as the bickering that had been welcome among us–a trusted friend–since our humble beginning in Even’star two months earlier. Best I should stick with the mystery and spare you yet another account of my quick temper, Bronn’s ever-expanding hubris, Saeita’s stubborn and enigmatic silence, the good-natured but irritating braggadocio of the gold elf Roman, Van’s well-meaning but–all praise to the Moonmaiden–increasingly preachy leadership, and Caramip’s growing obsession with the drum of Hathos. Even though it had fulfilled its purpose, still she persisted in tuning, fine-tuning, devising new rhythmic patterns, insisting that no one else touch it.More interesting were the rumblings that passed through the very foundations of Cindarm’s Hall above and into the halls below, where we sheltered. The walls and floor trembled as though shaken by earthquake, or upset by distant concussions in the earth. We did not dare guess what this could mean, but we all had suspicions.We healed our hurts, we readied magic and blades, we armed ourselves with the contents of Iolar’s armory. Clad in gleaming mithril shirts and armed with mithril blades, we were the dwarves of no Clan, the descendants of Selûne’s grace, who would set Aerunedar free of the Coil. Only a single dragon stood in our way.Much of our time was spent in planning our confrontation with that fell beast called Nightscale. If Bronn was a little fatalistic or cynical during those hours of planning and re-planning, I chalked it up to nerves. I didn’t dwell too much on his request that I lay his body to rest at the Crystal Caverns, if he did not live through the coming battle. How could I have known that he intended to face Nightscale alone?We were all wary of this fight; the Curse of Hathos had been lifted, and the power of the Coil was, arguably, broken. By the yardstick of Hathos’ own verse, we were entitled to pack it in and head for home. But to do so would have dishonored me in Clangeddin’s eyes, and would have done the same for Van Dyksun in the eyes of his goddess. According to the map we had taken from the corpse of the sage Mellomir nearly two months before, there was yet one more cavern, downriver, that we had not yet visited.There we expected to find a ziggurat to the reptile god Meerschaulk, and someone or something called Ooltugula. We knew nothing of this being but its name, and its habit of piecing together patchwork slaves, soldiers and minions from the still-living remains of its enemies. We were destined to learn far more.</blockquote>

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