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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 2234171" data-attributes="member: 143">The Shackled CityBook X: “Strike on Shatterhorn”Chapter 387Journal Entry of Balander Calloran1 Nightal, 1392 DalereckoningThe “Lucky Monkey,” in eastern CalimshanLast night was the Feast of the Moon.  Always a somber occasion, to memorialize those lost to us, and to recall those who have come before, this gathering was made especially meaningful by what we’ve all come through to get here.  I did not feel like speaking, but I did so, mostly for the sake of those poor souls who have gathered here, who in many cases have nothing left.  My words did little for my friends, especially Benzan, who has spent the last several days in seclusion, isolated from us within a wall of grief and guilt. It is too soon to say whether Cauldron will be rebuilt, but even if it is, the city has been forever changed by its ordeal.  That final tremor that we’d felt only distantly in the Cagewright stronghold created an opening in the rim of the caldera.  A wedge of the city encompassing several city blocks is just gone, and the lake is no more, drained into the bed of a new river that descends from the summit down the southeastern face of the volcano into the lowlands.  Arun noted that the Temple of Kelemvor was situated almost exactly within the center of that ruined zone; coincidence, perhaps, or an expression of anger by the Lord of the Dead at the sins committed by his former servants. It has rained almost constantly since we departed the city.  Dannel tells me that this downpour is nothing compared to what the region experiences a few months later, in what the locals call “Flood Season.”  And despite the rain the winter here is mild indeed compared to what we’re used to in the Western Heartlands.  Still, it is enough to make the situation of the refugees here truly miserable.  The roadhouse, even jammed as it is, can only accommodate a fraction of those gathered here.  Yesterday Jenya Urikas and Dana cooperated to summon a pair of massive earth elementals that cleared a section of forest and raised walls for crude barracks to house these people.  Lok, Arun, and Hodge have worked almost non-stop on their behalf, and the magical foodstuffs created by Jenya and Dana will likely stave off starvation for more than a few, at least until supplies can be delivered from Almraiven.  Each day Jenya conjures multiple heroes’ feasts in different parts of the camp, and each day she walks among the people, curing sickness and injuries, helping them prepare their shelters, or just sitting with them, listening.  The Cauldronites have come to see her as a saint, and even this jaded old bard is impressed by the dedication that fires this woman through adversity.  The templar, Beorna, rarely leaves her side.  Arun was quite grateful when I returned from my trip to the gem markets of Calimport, bringing the diamonds needed for Jenya and Dana to raise our fallen.  The treasures of the pyroclastic dragon were put to good use, and even after restoring Clarese and Beorna to life, we still have a considerable cache of the precious stones if further such intervention is necessary.  It is my fervent hope that they remain unused.  Clarese has been restored through the grace of Selûne, but I can sense that she has been deeply troubled by her experience.  Having returned from Beyond myself, I can understand what she feels, to a degree.  And on top of that, she must come to grips with the death of her closest friend.  Her confidence has been shaken, and I fear that some of the verve with which she seizes life may be harmed.  I will speak to her, but ultimately it will have to be she that decides how she will choose to embrace her life.  Both my niece and my friend will need time to grieve, and time to heal.  Unfortunately, that is the one thing that we may not have in abundance.  From what we learned from that wretch Wiejeron, and the other evidence recovered from the stronghold of the Cagewrights, our foes remain dangerous despite the crushing blow we have inflicted upon them.  Six rings we have collected, but seven of the Thirteen remain at large, and beyond them, their unholy master, the imprisoned divine, Adimarchus.  We do not know who or what holds the former angel hostage, but it is clear that he is able to exert a considerable influence yet from within his prison.  Dana and Jenya have dedicated themselves to tracking down the Cagewright remnants; from what we have learned they likely have another hidden base that must be uncovered and destroyed. It might be better if Benzan were distracted somehow from this mission; his single-minded focus on revenge may cloud his judgment and put all of us in jeopardy.  There is little chance of that, however.  There are times when I miss the less complicated way things were, back when we were all simple travelers on the wild roads of the west.  Even now, with my talents expanding to levels I had only dreamed about in my youth, there are times when I would discard my spellbook and magical accompaniments, take up my lute, and find a small but pleasant tavern in some backwoods settlement.But as I have so often told others, life is usually about what is, not what may be.  The struggle for Cauldron was not initially our fight, but when Izandra and Clarese chose to make this place their home, it became our home as well.  Our foe is a dire one, perhaps the deadliest we have yet faced.  But we have been literally to the Abyss and back, and we have new allies, friends whose skills and dedication will be a vital bastion against the suffering yet to come. It is late, and when I start to get this poetic in my private journals, it is time to go to bed.  Perhaps treating with that polearm earlier has drained me more than I thought.  It is “watching” me even now, I suspect.  The shator’s weapon is sentient and surprisingly intelligent; in fact I believe it is the most powerful weapon of its kind that I have ever encountered.  I had expected it to be suffused with taint, given its former owner, but it seems aligned to neutrality, and truly indifferent to the crimes of Dyr’ryd and its associates.  I have established dominance over it for now.  In our exchange it mostly seemed curious, although it suggested repeatedly that I relinquish it to the custody of Lok.  Perhaps it merely is drawn to the warrior that bested its former master.  Oddly enough I felt some jealousy at its comments, which suggests that I should dispense with it as soon as possible.  I suspect that if I kept Mindbite in my custody for any length of time it would live up to its name, and I would not be willing to part with it. Tomorrow will be a busy day; I intend to put my newly-mastered spell of greater teleportation to the test.  If the gods smile upon us we may have a new mission by the next sunset. </blockquote>

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