Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Joachim" data-source="post: 2767322" data-attributes="member: 9531">Excerpts from the journal of Giovanni Vito, aka 'Havok' 7th of Mirtul, 1373…With the destruction of the Apostle of Kyuss, the panic in the crowd began to fade away.  Slowly, inexorably, that panic transformed into elation.  Before long the throngs that had borne witness to my comrades’ great victory began roaring and shouting.  “IMPOTENT RAGE!  IMPOTENT RAGE!  IMPOTENT RAGE!”  The chant continued for several minutes before Talabir Welik was able to get the crowd under control.  The old magister made his way down to the arena floor and gathered up all of the combatants, Khellek included.  The coliseum patrons stared at the small congress in the center of the arena, quietly awaiting the judge’s announcement with impatient anticipation.  You could have heard a pin drop in the sands at that moment.Welik inquired as to what in the Nine Hells had just happened, and we obliged him with our knowledge of the creature, how it came to be here, and (most importantly) who was behind the monster’s summoning.  At that point, the unimaginable happened.  Khellek, previously so filled with arrogance and skepticism, told Welik that the crowd needed a champion to be named…and he relinquished any claim to such a title!  Despite our promise to him the night before, the wizard demanded that Welik award us with the Champion’s Belt.  Upon the announcement, the crowd exploded into a cacaphonic uproar.  Pyro, in his air mephit form, grabbed the belt from Welik and flew around the arena with his fists pumping, whipping the crowd into an even deeper frenzy.At this point, I couldn’t help but notice that two of my teammates were not enjoying the party…Grim and Hawk.  The two of them leaned over the hole from which the giant maggot had erupted, peering into its incubation chamber thirty feet below.  I will never forget the paladin’s cool determination and his confident words as he looked down.“No one threatens my town and gets away with it.”I teleported the three of us into the chambers below.  It was our hope to find Prendergast and catch him red-handed, but in this we had no luck.  The fiend had escaped.  However, as far as I was concerned, not all was lost.  As we passed through the doors into Bozal’s sanctuary, I was filled with glee when I saw the remnant Apostolic Scrolls laying on the floor of the chamber.  The magic had been spent from the artifact, but I knew the lore contained within would be of immense value.When the two warriors and I returned to the arena sands, the crowd was beginning to file out, making their way into the streets to proclaim the might of our intrepid little band.  I was shocked to learn that Pyro and Shay had agreed to Khellek to pay for half of the cost to return Auric’s soul from Ysgard, and that they would see to it that Grubber perform the ritual himself.  I would never have guessed the two of them to be philanthropists, but I guess that you can’t judge a book by its cover…or the first dozen chapters in Pyro’s case.Sad news came to us later in the day.  Grubber and Dwilt had returned from their Dagsumn’s tower, only to report that they had found the old sage and his wife murdered in their bed.  Making matters even more gruesome, they had been decapitated and their heads stolen!  This, I assume, was to prevent using divination magic to speak with the dead or possibly to prevent raising the dead.  Shay quickly returned with Dwilt and Hawk to the scene of the crime.  After a thorough search, the rogue had located a stack of letters and notes to be delivered to the group’s patron back in Daggerford.  The first letter in the bundle seemed to have been written with an urgent hand, and demanded that Aundabar forward the information on to the two sage's old ‘master’.  The letter's ending trailed off, as though the writing had been suddenly interrupted.Most conspicuously, under Dagsumn’s bed Shay located a small silver pin.  The pin was that of a stylized bastard sword, which he quickly recognized to be the symbol of Prendergast Brokengulf’s guard.  While this may be a real clue, it seems to be all too convenient.  I am skeptical of the validity and I believe that it could be an attempt at a set-up.  I have been wrong before…-----------------------------9th of Mirtul, 1373Today, a formal parade and celebration were held in dedication of the Champion’s Belt winners.  Not only did they award us with the belt and the finals prize money, but we were offered a position with the Grey Hand Enforcers themselves!  While none of us accepted, it was still a thrill to be considered for such an honor.  The Grey Hands command great respect and immense authority, but their duties and responsibilities to the city of Waterdeep are a bit too constricting for wandering souls such as ourselves.At the same ceremony, we were also witness to the promotion of Civilar Hawk and Civilar Dwilt, both to the rank of Senior Civilar.  When the Senior epaulettes were placed on Hawk’s shoulders, the aasimar beamed with pride.  For so long, this paladin of Helm had waited for such a moment.  This pride however, was not shared with Civilar Dwilt.  We learned later in the evening that after the ceremony Dwilt not only rejected the promotion, but he turned in his tabard and resigned from his post.  Simply, the man explained to us that the City Guard had become too corrupt, and he had no desire to continue in the charade.  Hawk understood and genuinely respected Dwilt’s decision, but the aasimar was not about to give up hope in the institution to which he had already given so much.Speaking with Talabir Welik at the ceremony, we learned what we had already had feared: Prendergast Brokengulf is missing, and no one in the city has been able to locate him.  Considering the vast conventional, not to mention magical, resources available to the local magisters, I truly find that hard to believe.  There just might be something to Dwilt’s accusations.  Either they are hiding him, or they are conveniently letting him get away.Upon breaking for the evening, I returned to my room and continued in my study of the Apostolic Scrolls.  The lore contained within was amazing.  Absolutely insane and terrifying, but amazing none the less.  The scrolls, written in dark Abyssal, contain a long and complex litany filled with horrific annelidic imagery and descriptions.  It was in this reading that I have come to understand the meaning of the Age of Worms, and I am more frightened of the possibilities more than ever before…--------------------------------12th of Mirtul, 1373I write this entry in the middle of the night.  Since reading the Apostolic Scrolls, I have found that my nightmares have been increasing in their intensity.  More than once I have awoken screaming, trying to shake off hundreds of imaginary worms.  Once, I almost released a burst of eldritch power in my sleep, but I awoke in just enough time to control it.  The disturbance has gotten so bad that other patrons have been complaining and the innkeeper has threatened to throw me out on the street if it persists.  That...is the least of my concerns.  What could this mean?  I have always believed that my dreams were in some way linked to my dark magic, but is it possible that my powers are somehow linked with the coming Age of Worms?  Am I some kind of unwilling thrall to Kyuss?Whatever the case, I believe that it is not happenstance that I have encountered these adventurers and their ever-expanding quest.  Tymora has guided me here and I must follow this path if I am to learn the truth, regardless of how dangerous that path may be.  Once they have completed spending their hard-earned prize money on new equipment, my former teammates are planning to leave Waterdeep to return to Daggerford so that they might take counsel from their patron Aundabar.  Maybe they won’t mind if I tag along.  I think that I have proven myself somewhat useful to them, so it’s possible that they won’t question my motives.  Besides, they might be the only people on the Sword Coast that I actually trust…</blockquote>

Verification