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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Eccles" data-source="post: 1060573" data-attributes="member: 5675">F.A.O. His Eminence Pietr Orik,C/o the Temple of Ilmater,The Triad’s Road,Temple District,Trailsend. Your Grace, We are currently at ease in the court of Lord Morn, having just been given a mission by that said personage! It is none other than to investigate a group of drow, that have appeared out of nowhere in a maze of crypts some distance to the south and a little west of Dagger Falls. There is a possibility that these drow have direct access to the Underdark, for they are not of any of the Houses that have set themselves up in Cormanthor (q.v. letters: Marpenoth 16th and 20th, 1372 DR (re. House Jaelre); Marpenoth 29th, 1372 DR (re. House Auzkovyn)), according to Lord Morn’s intelligence. I will provide further information to you as I uncover it, your Grace, but for now I will continue with my narrative as I left off previously. We rested after the battle with the Shades, and then went back to the throne room. After some brief searching of the robing room behind the throne’s dais, we chose one amongst the various unblocked exits from the throne room and tried our luck with what lay beyond. This turned out to be a group of scruffy grey dwarves, lording it over an emaciated and vacant-eyed group of Rudenheims, who were chained to their workbenches, and slaving over forges, creating the silvery weapons, which had now become familiar to us. The grey dwarves then proved themselves to be duergar by turning invisible before our eyes. However, their typical dwarven footwear gave their positions away, and in less time than it takes to say, Stedd had leapt upon the nearest and had borne him down. The other two managed to escape—in a manner of speaking—by muttering some graceless nonsense and then throwing themselves from a nearby precipice. Looking down, I could see no method of survival, and they had disappeared at a much faster rate than that allowed by the various floating spells. I stabilised the duergar prisoner, for later questioning, then we turned our attentions to the enslaved Rudenheims. We released them, and Stedd and Halbrinn offered to escort them to the upper levels, and their brethren. Unfortunately, the mist spell I had previously cast in the throne room had by now dissipated, only to reveal something nasty stuck in Adamo’s webs: Two basilisks! Stedd and the dwarves survived, and raised the alarm, but Halbrinn was turned to stone on the instant. The rest of us, hearing the cries of alarm, rushed back to the throne room. We picked up Halbrinn (currently a stone pixie!) and ran from the room, before the basilisks could respond (they are slow and cumbersome, thank Ilmater!). It was then decided that we would take a break, resting to regain spells, whilst Adamo teleported back to Dagger Falls with Halbrinn, to restore the rocky gnome to fleshiness. We took this opportunity to question the duergar, as the Rudenheims were looking at him very darkly, and muttering darkly, too! He could tell us little, other than to say his master (the ‘One Below’) could be found somewhere in the depths of the chasm into which his fellow duergar had jumped. This at least gave us a little forewarning, although we had no clue as to what this ‘One Below’ could be, of course. I then furnished the duergar with a little anaesthetic balm, and allowed the Rudenheims to take him away. The duergar was entirely stoical about this, and made no attempt at escape. I offered a prayer to Ilmater on his behalf, although I did not waste my breath inviting the grey dwarf to prey with me: I could see the sneer already, even as I offered him the comfort of the balm. Some just cannot be helped. Hearing that basilisks use gaze to turn creatures to stone, I had the idea that they could not do this if they were blind. I therefore used my spells to shift several prayers into cause blindness, in the hope that this strategy would prove fruitful. Then, with the doors between the basilisks and us firmly barred, the Clearwater Crusaders, in our various locations, slept to replenish ourselves. Come the morn (a figure of speech I cannot escape, your grace, please forgive it’s incongruity) and we were ready, once again, for battle with foul creatures. A short while after prayers Adamo reappeared with Halbrinn, now looking a good deal less stony! We informed them of our plan to use blindness spells, which Adamo endorsed with the addendum that basilisks gaze attacks are short range: a few dozen feet at best. This would be considerably shorter in range than my blindness spells, so if the others could occupy the basilisks physically, it should be a simple matter for me to curtail their magical gaze. As it turned out, the plan had a good measure of success. On opening the door I was faced with the two basilisks, set well apart, in an ambush. Despite my attempts to glance only from the corner of my eyes, one managed to catch my fleeting gaze, and I felt the force of magic surge around me as a metamorphosis attempted to take me. I resisted, and with the grace of Ilmater, threw off the petrifying force. Then, I took my chance and preyed, summoning the stored energies to empower my words as I threw the blinding magics at the basilisk that had attempted to turn me to stone… And saw its eyes dim. Plainly, as its head shifted left and right, it was obvious that it could see no more, and the power in its gaze had been negated. The plan was then put into action, and the remainder of the Crusaders surged forwards to disrupt the remaining basilisk and put an end to the blind one. I used a second blindness spell to affect the second basilisk, and offered a prayer of thanks to Ilmater as that spell also worked, without the creature resisting the blindness. With the blindness spells both having been successful, the battle was all but won, and no more need be said. We were now free to search the remaining rooms off the throne room, finding little of interest, excepting some of Vorin’s gear, in a locked storeroom, and a dwarven ghost. This ghost, it was quickly surmised, was not of the sinister variety, being purely the spirit of a Rudenheim, murdered by ogres. The poor shade, who’s appellation was Korgan Axegrider during his living years, could not leave his chamber, conveying to us that he would turn to mist on attempting this. We could do little for him, though we were quick to offer to inform the living Rudenheims of him predicament, that they might help him. Further exploration turned up nothing except empty storerooms and sleeping quarters. We were just about to give up, when we happened upon a room with crates. Boredom having superseded his normal good sense, Halbrinn bashed open one of the crates without pausing for thought (I blame this lack of good sense on the osmosis of stupidity from his metamorphic form—currently he was masquerading as a hill giant—to his natural form. Whatever the explanation, the result was the same: A huge golem burst forth from the crates and promptly attacked us! This particular variety was a clay golem, and we were quick to learn that it had a rather horrid array of abilities, the worst of which was the ability to cause wounds that could not be healed by any normal means: a direct affront, if ever there was one! We managed to best the device with some good old heavy-handed smiting, although diverse of us were left with painful ailments, which I could not salve. We learned later that powerful magics could be used to heal the hurts, but those hurts had to be borne until we returned to Dagger Falls, which was no small misery, of that I can vouch! Returning to the throne room once more, we took the one last exit we had not explored. This only uncovered a shrine to Moraddin, which had been desecrated. Knowing that the Rudenheims would soon be by to clear the mess up, we left well alone and returned to the throne room again, to take stock. There were only two routes left that we had not taken: The route past the roper, and the duergar-swallowing chasm. We chose the chasm, not feeling any need to meet the roper again. So we returned to the chasm’s edge, which provided us with a particularly unedifying scenario. We could neither see far into the dark, nor hear anything above the amplified splash of the stream that tumbled into the darkness from the lip of the crevasse. Adamo, taking the initiative, lit a sunrod and used a spell of flying to explore the upper reaches, where a ladder was illuminated. Halbrinn, still in giant form, whispered some words of magic and became invisible. We heard him move over to the ladder, and then the noise of his movements was lost above the racket of tumbling water. Some time later, two bobbing lights indicated that Halbrinn had found an alternative route to get to the ladder (a secret door had been placed beside the ladder, partway down, with a passage leading back to where we were standing, or thereabouts. This we used, grateful for the chance to bypass the leap of faith we would otherwise need to reach the ladder, which began partway around the chasm from us, and some way below our feet! On reaching the bottom of the ladder, we were confronted by a body of water, and an assault course, probably used by the Shade monks. We followed the bank of the water until we got to a small bridge, which we began, gingerly, to cross. Most of us had crossed, when suddenly a projection of viscous, green-black fluid sprayed across Halbrinn and I. I reacted with enough speed to dodge the ichor, but Halbrinn was less lucky, and we heard the unmistakable sizzle of acid, as Halbrinn yelped in pain. I looked across and saw the shape of our assailant flap out of the darkness: By the Triad, it was a large black dragon! Without pause we all turned tail and fled, even Vorin! Not all were affected by the dragonfear, but we might as well have. The bridge had been set as a trap; there was nowhere to go once it had been traversed. I used mists to try to cover our escape, by which time all except Vorin and I had removed themselves from the death trap set for us. The dragon laughed off my attempt at cover, chillingly calling to us that we were still plainly visible to it. It confirmed that by jumping across and landing on the strand behind Vorin and I, but we took this opportunity to escape, as it had not closed off the route between our friends and us. All had become dark, however, a magical darkness that my eyes could not penetrate. Vorin launched himself over the bridge using the last directions I could provide to guide his way, whilst I took the opportunity to use my ring of water walking to escape across the water. I used a hand on the wall to guide myself around the corner from the dragon, before its lethal breath or claws or teeth could make a mess of me. Fortunately Ilmater granted us a boon, and Vorin and I were able to join the rest of the Crusaders. We were also favoured by the confines of the cavern we were in, which prevented the dragon taking flight. However, it had enhanced its movement, so there was little chance of our escaping up the ladder; it would be after us too quick! Therefore, with all other options removed, it was left for us to don the mantle of heroes, and become dragonslayers (or die trying!) Our first feint was to get Miles and a selection of Adamo’s monsters on the far side of the dragon, that we might flank it. Miles got his usual sneaky stabs in, but was repeatedly tail slapped and bitten for his trouble, and fell to the ground. However, Stedd, who kept up the distracting barrage, quickly replaced him. Hence, with the pincer maintained, and with a third angle of attack provided by myself standing on the water to the beasts left, we provided enough damage to send the beast back to Tiamat, with none of us dying in the battle. A remarkable feat! That left us with the dragon’s treasure to sort through; I must admit even I was intrigued as to what the dragon might be in possession of. The treasure was buried in the water, but Adamo called forth a water elemental to dredge the lake for all items within. Other than the usual treasure (of which there was plenty your eminence, be sure the church will share!) there were diverse minor items, and one unusual one: a small black wooden box with a white skull upon the lid and no lock. On using a spell of magic detection, Adamo was amazed to discover that auras from all eight schools of magic were emanating from the box. The following morning, Halbrinn checked for traps on the box, and found none. Even more intrigued, we enspelled Adamo with various protections, then he went into a room on his own to find out what was in the box. On emergence, a white-faced Adamo suggested that we not use what was in the box except as a last resort. This I took to be good advice; having seen some of the things that Adamo experiences on a day-to-day basis, if he says leave something alone, you can surely consider my interest un-piqued! We took our leave of the dwarves soon after this, laden as we were with the spoils of dragon-hoard. The dwarves did not even seem particularly avaricious towards the dragon hoard, a sure sign that they consider themselves lucky: They may not admit it, but I think we have impressed the Rudenheims by what we have achieved. A shame that Khondar did not live to see his stronghold liberated, but it was his own choice not to return from the Halls of Moraddin, or the forges of Dumathoin, or wherever he has chosen to abide. I wish him well. And that, as Ilmater knows, is the choice a martyr may make, to ensure his name is written in illuminations for future generations to remark over. Who would be remembered as the lord of a small outpost, when history may remember you as a glorious liberator of downtrodden dwarves? On the journey back to Dagger Falls, a large white wolf joined us. This turned out to be Vorin’s mount, which is unusual to say the least. Still, the beast is loyal to its master, and we have no horses, or other creatures that would take umbrage at it, so no harm will likely come of it. And I must say, it is a daunting beast, to say naught of its fighting and tracking ability. When we got back to Dagger Falls, we each went our separate ways to complete personal business and the commissioning of items of magic that our not insubstantial capital could purchase. I reported to the watch that the mystery involving the murderous monks of the Old Order (q.v. letters sent in the second-third week of Nightal, 1372 DR) was actually the work of Shades posing as said monks. This went pretty much over the head of the sergeant I was speaking to, but I had to try to explain. I then went to the church to explain the same to Sir Dundragon, who seemed similarly confused, but hid it better. I have a simple equation for measuring Sir Helm’s comprehension: The lower the level of understanding, the higher the loudness and heartiness. Still, he is a good and stout defender of the church; if only he was a bit less roundhouse with his backslaps! Finally, as I mentioned at the top of my report, the Crusaders were summoned before Lord Morn, and a small group of what I took to be his intelligence service. There, the government man (F.Y.I., your grace, he is in fact an elf by the name of Respen Moondown) described the nest of drow we are to extract the pledge from. I’m sure he knows more than he is letting on, and I believe I noticed some virtually imperceptible interaction between this elf and Miles, but that really only confirms what I have already suspected. The quest seems genuine enough to me, so I have accepted it. It does seem to tie in quite nicely with the path I have already chosen, so will take it as a further sign that all is well with my own private quest. So, until next time, your Grace, I will sign off. For now, I go to hunt the dark elves of the Underdark! Yvgeny. Ilmater save the king.</blockquote>

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