Vincent's Laboratory Notes and Footnotes (Updated December 30, 2007)

[Altalazar]

Vincent Character Background

He came for them in the night. It was dark. I remember the darkness. She screamed. She ran. I did not see her. And then he took them both. My parents were taken. I could feel they were gone. But when I got out of my bed and went over to them, I could see them still, unmoving, in their bed. Their blood looked black in the moonlight, staining their sheets and their walls. They were gone. But their bodies were there. And so there was hope.
I had just reached my thirteenth summer, ready for my apprenticeship with my father. But that did not change. Need not change. I started my apprenticeship with him still, my research. I spent my second thirteen summers doing nothing but my research, using all of my parents’ coin to buy what I could not steal from our village. The wilderness came back to our land, long neglected. I ate when there was food. There was always food. After several summers, I know not how many, she would bring me food to the door. She was always bringing me food. Left on the door. Some was bitter, but it was all good meat. She showed me how good it was with her skills learned in the wild. She would leave the food and go, and I would find it in the early morning darkness, fresh meat only half eaten. I would cook it and spice it and leave some of it out for her as well.
Thirteen further summers from when he came to take them, she finally returned to my doorstep, not with food but with herself. She looked at me strangely, as if I were someone she did not know, but only remembered. I remembered her. She had a wild look in her eye, but she was still her.
“Welcome home, Willow,” I said as I greeted my sixteen year old sister back into our parent’s house. She had much to tell me. I shared with her my research into restoring our parents while we shared a nice evening meal.


Book I

Vincent – Chapter One – Road Research Required

I have reached the limits of my research in our old, broken down home. Perhaps I should have maintained it, but no matter. The research is what matters. There is nothing left for me to learn in this village. We must hit the road. Not skilled at theft myself, I’ve subcontracted my thefts to a professional named Belor. He has proven quite adept. He is one of the family, though my sister has not yet joined us for dinner. She is still more comfortable in her wilds. But she has been around, watching, when he is over. She also, I think, enjoys listening from afar to his partner in theft, who cannot speak except through his drums. His drumming is almost primeval, especially when he kills. But while his killing is poetic, it is nothing compared to the precision of the Marshall. He’s my best source of all.
But now that the limits of my research have been reached, it is time for us to go on the road and see what new tomes I can find there. We will live off of the land and the people, together. We will advance our family. Now we are on the road to Oakhurst, where work for coin is in the offing, as well as something I may need.

Vincent – Chapter Two – Oakhurst

In town, we find there is work. Kerowyn Hucrele is looking for two kin, Talgen and Sharwyn, who have gone to the nearby Sunless Citadel, den of goblins, a month’s past, and have not returned. One hundred twenty-five pieces of gold for their signet rings, for each of us, or double that if they are alive and well. I wonder which would ultimately be worth more.
We also hear rumors of an apple of great power to heal sold each midsummer, and another apple of even greater power to harm sold each midwinter. I should like to think both would benefit my research. The citizens of this small town have thus far been unable to duplicate either, their saplings stolen before they could grow much taller than my knees, presumably by the goblins intent on keeping their monopoly. Clever goblins. I wonder if their brains are larger than normal. They have kept their monopoly for the past twelve years. Interestingly, this seems to coincide with a curious story from Garon, barkeep of the Ol’Boar Inn, who told our mute bard that the last time anyone inquired about the Sunless Citadel (aside from our two Hucreles) was a grim man named Belak who stopped by his bar thirteen years ago, a very large frog in tow.
Also of note is the recent attacks on cattle and food, leaving both dead in the morning, pierced by dozens of needlelike claws.
Thus filled with information, we began our long walk down the Old Road, toward the Citadel and goblins, ready to earn our coin.

Vincent – Chapter Three – Research on the Old Road

We walked down the old road single file. I made a note of each of my subjects and their physical characteristics, in case I ever needed to identify a badly mangled body. Willow walked by me, her wolf Breeze coming close behind her. Willow is short and wiry, with dark hair, dark eyes, and she was covered in leather. A dull in color but sharp in blade scimitar swung at her hip. It is good for cutting up food as well as serving other needs.
In front was Lord Malachite, his cape fluttering in the breeze, along with his long blonde hair. His eyes were green, something I’d not seen before. Glowing red eyes are another matter. He was well armored and armed with a blade and a bow. His services as Marshall have proven most useful.
Close behind him was Belor, with short black hair, braided in front. He has done well at procuring reagents hard to come by for those short of gold. He obtains gold of his own in combination with his partner, the mute bard, who carried a long spiked chain and had drums strapped to his back. His playing was a sight to behold. I found out to what degree it was soon after.
And if anyone finds my body, I have short black hair and a goatee, and I am skinny in build, though my sister does try and hunt to feed me well.
A day’s travel on the road left us with half the distance remaining, so we camped on the road for the night. It was Willow who first heard the approach of something in the night while I was studying my notes.

Vincent – Chapter Four – The sounds of Twigs breaking in the Woods at Night – Two Twig Corpses

Willow later described to me the sounds she heard. She said it was like dry leaves blowing across the barren ground, a natural sound made unnatural. She woke everyone soon after, and we all saw their approach. Two short creatures made of downed tree limbs, covered in a sticky sap.
We fought. And with great joy I summoned forth from the place I still do not understand, a wonderful ally! His slim, alabaster limbs shone in the moonlight, so pure and smooth, armor against his marrow! He walked proudly and fearlessly up to the creatures of twigs and fought his empty rib-cage out for me. It was a beautiful sight, and I almost felt tears in my eyes. But then the next moment, he was gone again. If only I could find a way to keep them here with me longer than an instant. I hoped my travels would aid me in this endeavor.
The twigs dispatched, we returned to slumber, and then traveled the remainder of our journey to the citadel in the morning.

Vincent – Chapter Five – Descent into Sunless Citadel – Three Dire Rat Corpses plus one, three goblin corpses

We reached a crack in the earth covered with the ruins of pillars. Attached to one was a knotted rope leading downward. Balor lowered himself first, right into the midst of three dire rats. He ran to stairs off of the platform and we dealt with the rest of the rats in due course.
Willow dealt with their bodies, finding the best way to lay them to rest. We then all joined Belor and took the stairs down several more platforms until we were in the cavern below at the base of a tower on the edge of the Sunless Citadel, a name appropriately descriptive, negating any requirement I elaborate in my notes.
The door to the tower was open. A pit also opened under Belor when he approached the door. Down below were two skeletal goblins, inert alas, but there was also a freshly dead goblin and a live dire rat.
We dispatched the rat and raised the body of the goblin. I took the body into my care, making further notes as I examined it and utilized it, with Willow’s assistance. We also found some coins on the corpse, further financing my research.

Vincent – Chapter Six – Tower – Three Goblin Corpses, Three allies of alabaster!

Inside the tower were three more fresh bodies, one speared into the tower wall. Willow removed the spear, revealing the name “Ashardalon” in Draconic runes upon the wall. Two more doors and one hidden door provided exit to the rounded, hollowed out tower. The mute bard seemed to recognize the name, but did not elaborate.
The hidden door opened first, the Lord Malachite entering the small room first. Three skeletal forms lay within, apparently from the days when the citadel saw sunlight. He began to search them for valuables when they took umbrage and stood to attack him. I could scarcely contain my excitement. They were beautiful! Their pale alabaster forms barely diminished in all of the years they lie fallow in the confines of the hidden tower room. The graceful curves of their armored marrow pressed into such a dark hole. One came out and the other two raked their beautiful bony claws across the Marshall’s chest.
I pulled the skull from my pouch and held it aloft, channeling its cold, strong, energy through my body. I could not tell if the chills I felt were the energy or my own excitement at my first encounter with the beautiful beings of alabaster that did not only wink into existence for a moment, but who remained for centuries. One quickly cowered, and the Marshall dispatched it, sending a tear to my eye, but my tear was short lived. The other two immediately snapped to attention and walked toward me, bowing down and awaiting my every desire. Oh how beautiful they were! I traced their curves with my fingertips, marveling at how solid they felt, excited in knowing that in another instant, they would still be with me. I filled my notebook with my findings!

Vincent – Chapter Seven – Room off Tower – One Dire Rat Corpse

A room off of the tower led to another door, one carved in the likeness of a dragon. The Mute Bard pointed at it excitedly and then pointed back toward the runes in the tower. Perhaps this was the same dragon. Perhaps all dragons look alike. I wonder what a dragon corpse looked like.
We found another dire rat corpse in the rubble by the door, after the Marshall killed it. The door itself had a keyhole in the dragon’s large mandibles, but Belor could not open it no matter how much he tried. This lock needed a key.

Vincent – Chapter Eight – Drinking Problem – One Water Mephit Corpse

Exiting the tower through the remaining door, we found a hallway with a door at the end and two other doors to the side. One led to an empty room, the other led to a small room with an iron cask.
Willow noticed the cask was sealed at the top, and she rectified this, unstopping it with much effort. And then a small creature of water flew forth and spat corrosive fluid across the small room.
This little beast proved quite resilient, shrugging off most of our attacks, and it took the combined efforts of everyone to subdue it. I even sent in one of my alabaster friends to face it, and it did quite well. But then the horrid beast spat a green arrow at my poor friend and it slowly burned his armored marrow into pulp.
“Nooooo!” I shouted as I ran forward into the tiny room, ripping off my gloves and touching it square in the chest, channeling the cold energy that powers me through my fingertips and into its tiny heart, sapping away its life force in a way it could not shrug off. It then tried to flee, and we surrounded it and subdued it at last.
I took a moment to hold my poor friend’s bones, and laid him to rest, tears in my eyes. While we were victorious, and I could feel the rush of another kind going through my body at that victory, we were badly mauled, and needed to rest. We spent nearly two days in the other empty room, resting, and watching for signs of trouble. My other friend, unscathed, stood watch the entire time, unmoving, uncomplaining. He was the ideal guardian. As I watched Willow sleep, I wondered if such a guardian would have served her well while I researched, but no, my research is its own reward. She and I will both benefit, as will our parents.
I cooked up several nice fresh stews for all to share, thought the Marshall and Belor seemed to prefer their hard trail rations to my fresh stew. Strange. Perhaps it is the spices I use. I will have to see what else I can find at the stores of Oakhurst.

Vincent – Chapter Nine – No corpses, only Kobolds

The next chamber, through the door at the end of the hall, was a large one. Inside, we found disarray. A large cage with the bars bent and distorted, unable to hold even the idea of captivity. And next to it, a sobbing Kobold. We quickly surrounded it.
“No hurt Meepo!” he said.
“Then Meepo needs to help us,” replied the Marshall.
“The clan’s dragon . . . Calcryx… we’ve lost Calcryx. The wretched goblins stole our dragon!”
The Marshall replied, “What color was your dragon?”
“Meepo dragon white!”
The Marshall declared, “I thought pseudo dragons were red, but no matter, we can help you. But we have other questions for you.”
“Meepo help you! Meepo take you to Yusdrayl, she the leader, if you make nice. Grant you safe passage, if you promise not to hurt Meepo. May be if you promise to rescue dragon, leader make nice to you, answer your questions.”
The Marshall agreed on our behalf, and the Meepo excitedly led us through another hall to a grand hall that ended at a throne. Along the way, we picked up nine more kobolds, who agreed to escort us to their leader, Meepo in tow.

Vincent – Chapter Ten – Yusdrayl, grand leader of kobolds

Yusdrayl greeted us from her throne, a throne backed by a large carving of a dragon that held in its mouth a shiny gold key. She agreed to answer our questions.
The Marshall asked her about the lost adventurers whom we were seeking for a reward.
“They fought the goblins. They never returned.” She then had a proposition for us. “If you return the dragon to us alive, I shall grant you a reward. Meepo will accompany you.”
“We’d like the key,” the Marshall said.
“Then if you bring us the dragon, it is yours!” she said, and then her guards escorted us toward where we found Meepo, on our way to face the goblins.

Vincent – Chapter Eleven – Fountains and Friends, Five Friends

Through several more halls and rooms, we ended in a room with a large, dry fountain. Written above it was a word in draconic, Nainarya, Let there be Fire. Meepo, as fluent as I, said he could read it and the Marshall asked him what it said. As he said the word, the fountain filled a small basin at its base with a red liquid. I examined it carefully, and from my notes I discerned it was a magical elixir of some kind. The Mute Bard gathered it up in a flask, and then we turned our attention to the non-ordinary door in the room.
It was a wondrous sight. Skeletal dragons adorned it in bas relief, and there were words in draconic above it, reading Tana Aman Heka Men, Channel good, open the way. The Marshall and Willow both asked me if I could channel energy to open the door, somewhat skeptical of the descriptor of the energy I controlled. I picked up my skull and held it tight, and channeled my power, feeling its cold liquid ooze down my spine. The door slowly opened.
Inside, we found five dusty sarcophagi on the walls and a dark altar with a candle burning and some other items. The Marshall immediately expected there were five friends in the room, and asked me to be ready. I’ve been ready for thirteen years.
“You think you can handle them all?” asked the Marshall.
“Yeah, they might be vampires,” added Belor.
“I can take them all!” I shouted, and I walked into the room and held aloft my skull.
The Marshall opened one of the sarcophagi. All then opened in response and five more friends entered our sight! I was so happy I almost dropped my skull, but I did not let that show, and I quickly let the power flow through me. Soon four were cowering and the fifth joined me at my side. The Marshall again set out to destroy my friends, but this time I stopped him and asked him to leave them for me to collect later. I assured him I could keep them at bay for quiet some time, and so we collected the candle, potion, and clear metal whistle from the altar and left the room.

Vincent – Chapter Twelve – Two Goblin Corpses – Caltrops and Barricades

Several more rooms of investigation later, following tracks in the dust of four or five humanoids, we found ourselves staring down a short hallway ending in a barricade. Behind it were two goblin pre-corpses, holding javelins. In the hall were small caltrops, making egress difficult. But not for my friends.
I sent forth my two alabaster friends at full speed across the hallway, the caltrops points unable to penetrate their armored marrow. One jumped the barricade, stepping over the arrow-ridden corpse of one goblin while the other faced the second goblin head on. Both then raked their claws into its flesh, ripping out its eyes and heart and sending it to the floor. So many new subjects for my research. So many new friends. I became very confident that my decision to take my research on the road was the right choice. I’d already gained so much. I looked forward to what lay ahead. Soon, very soon, our parents will be able to benefit from my research. And then so will the world.

 

[Altalazar]

Vincent – Chapter Thirteen – Four more Goblin Corpses – Javelins and Barricades and Dragon (no corpse)

Through the room and around a hall we found another barricade with four fresh, still living goblin corpses throwing javelins at us. The Marshall taunted them and drew most of them to him, though they stood behind the barricades still. I sent my lovely, glorious alabaster companions into the room with the others, where they bravely charged the barricade, unconcerned with their own safety, carrying out my will. The others fought them as well. Soon the corpses were not quite so fresh, unmoving, and so I assisted Willow with making sure they found the natural order in this unnatural place.
Belor, impatient to explore, headed forward, into a great hall with many dragon-shaped columns, and then into a room with a creature to match them. He found Meepo’s lost charge Calcryx. We slowly marched into the room, almost filling it as we surrounded the dragon. I stayed outside, my alabaster beauties providing my own presence by double proxy. Willow shouted to Meepo to come take his steed. Meepo charged in, and the dragon, which was busy feasting on Belor’s blood, let out a piercing roar and jumped on top of Meepo and proceeded to try and gouge his eyes out with its claws.
For such a small beast (no larger than a cat!) the dragon fought tenaciously before it was surrounded and finally beaten into submission. Such strength! I wondered just how well its flesh would fare as one of my minions! I took many notes on this later. Dragons in life are powerful. In death, undeath, the must be even more so! I wonder if their breath weapon survives the transition? I wonder if their wings, even with decaying or absent flesh, can still take them aloft? I must find out more about dragons and death. There must be more here, with all of these dragon statues. Such as the one which held the key that, in between my laboratory note-taking, I noticed the Marshall took after handing over the dragon to the kobolds. I wonder if that dragon statue is of a real dragon, now long dead? I asked the mute bard, but he said nothing.
I took more detailed notes into the night while the others mostly slept. My two alabaster friends stood watch all night while we rested in a room generously provided by the kobolds. Such civilized animals, they are. I wonder if they are as good as goblins. I make a note here to ask Willow about that later, for she knows such things better than I.

Vincent – Chapter Fourteen – Four Kobolds Freed – One Gnome, We Lead

In a room near the javelin room, we found four captive Kobolds, whom we freed, and a captive gnome, who Willow could not tell me if he was good or not. He said he was a cleric and that he had been held for over a year. He explained he was captured from the Old Road by goblins. He also claimed his healing magic kept him alive all this time.
We asked him about the grove below, and he replied, “I’ve heard the goblins talk about the Twilight Grove down below. There an evil druid called Belak tends an enchanted garden and harvests the enchanted fruit from something the goblins call the Gulthias tree, but only in the most terrified of whispers. The enchanted fruit grows on the Gulthias tree.”
The Marshall asked him what the fruit’s properties were, and he explained that “the midsummer fruit restores spirit and vigor to those who eat it; the pale midwinter fruit steals the same. Belak allows the goblins to sell the fruit on the surface, but I don’t know why.”
The Marshall, ever concerned about our reward, asked about the lost human adventurers. Erky told us their names were Sharwyn, Talgen, and Sir Bradford, but that the goblins only kept them with him for about a week before they removed them.” He told us Belak wanted them and that was the last he had heard about it. I glanced at Willow when he made that last comment. Belak is most certainly a druid.
Thus freed, Erky offered to join us, assisting us in return for his freedom. He said he had healing magic and knew how to fight, so we gave him a goblin morning star and resumed our exploration of the goblins’ lair.

Vincent – Chapter Fifteen – Six more Goblin Corpses

Belor explored further, beyond the dragon’s room (where apparently the dragon had a small hoard of its own – I only pay attention to such things as they can help fund my research) and found another room with a camp fire and six more goblins. The room, while large, was barely large enough to hold the goblins and every member of our party, including as it does now our original six, my two alabaster minions, and now Erky Timbers. The goblins stood nary a chance against us, and soon we had our fill of them.
Instead of pausing, Belor pressed on further, and led us down a long hallway to the furthest most reaches of the citadel, opening a door into a tower. Inside we finally saw a group that outnumbered our own.

Vincent – Chapter Sixteen – Five Goblin Corpses, Four Hobgoblin Corpses, One Twig Blight Corpse – And the way down

The tower we found ourselves opening had a large open pit in the middle of it, covered with vines that looked good for climbing. In one corner was a large throne of stone with a large, muscular hobgoblin seated upon it. To his left was a large potted twig blight, to his right was a goblin of clerical power. And then all around the edges of the room were four more goblins and three more hobgoblins who wasted no time in charging forward to meet us.
Lord Malachite and Willow were quickly surrounded and overwhelmed, creating great worry in me. As much as my alabaster beauties meant to me, I knew I could always create more. My research had not yet reached the point I could create another Willow. I sent forth my friends and called forth one more from the ether, though his presence would not last long. It did allow me to quickly surround the hobgoblin chief. What I saw next was most impressive.
The mute bard ran into the room, his spiked chain spinning high above his head. Then he began to play the drums on his back with the chain, bouncing them off in an ever increasing crescendo, with counter-points made with each strike of his chains against the head of a goblin or hobgoblin before they returned to strike his drums. It was a literal song and dance of death and it was mesmerizing. Music of death. I must make further notes in this area.
One of my alabaster companions took a serious wounding in that combat, creating a wound on my heart as I saw it. I ran into the room and reached out and touched the chief, pulling away some of his life energy as I did so. It tasted good. I will have to sample more of that later.
The chief went down, but his goblin wench put him right back up with her healing magic. But she was then the last one standing, and so we quickly made mince-meat out of her.
The battle over, I carefully ran my hands up and down the smooth alabaster white forms of my friends. One looked fine, but the other felt rough and pitted to my touch. His bones were almost smashed through! Rest! We need to rest so I can restore him! I must restore him! His bones tasted so sour! But with just a hint of fungus. I wet my lips.
Oh, and I briefly note that various items of money and magic were found on the various corpses and in a chest by the throne, but I left those details to the specialists, like Belor. I knew it was good to hire specialists. It leaves me more time to work on my research.
I took a glance down the pit with the vines, and knew that my research would take us there next.

 

[Altalazar]

Notes – Chapter Seventeen – Flesh is weak! It runs, it fears.

My observations under so many different conditions are proving very valuable. It has become very clear to me that, in so many ways, ways I did not even imagine, flesh is weak.
Observation one – after opening the door locked by the key held by the dragon’s mouth (from the kobolds) we found a room with a glowing, singing globe. As we approached, it sang louder and we all ran from the room. All of us, save my three alabaster friends, who, were it not for their orders to follow me, would have stood there for eternity. Eventually, the globe was destroyed, but that does not matter. What matters is how it easily and repeatedly sent all those of the flesh running from that room. Flesh is weak!
Beyond that room, there was a glimmer of hope. Beyond a troublesome imp, there was a sarcophagus with a giant being inside. It attacked us and at first, I thought it was a new and wondrous being of the undeath, but this turned out to be wrong. At first I could not discern how it could live so long, but then it must have been preserved, much like the flesh we eat. This was true even though its flesh seemed to regenerate. But then we burned it and it lay still. Flesh, even regenerating flesh, is weak.

Notes – Chapter Eighteen – Flesh is weak. It decays, it rots, it infects.

Further observations ensued in the last branch of this complex to be explored before our descent into the lower level. We found a long corridor full of dire rats, including a bloated queen that took great exception to our explorations. We set off a trap of poison gas and several of us were bitten by the rats and diseased, laid weak and frail by the festering wounds left behind by those dirty rodent incisors. Those same incisors chewed on my friends of alabaster, but beyond scuffing their bones, their disease had no chance to find purchase there.
My alabaster minions stood tall and strong while the others in our group were laid low, weak with fever, for days. It is true they did recover on their own, but only with much help and nursing. Even my healing magic, which so quickly heals even the undead, could do nothing for them. Flesh is weak. It decays. It rots. It makes host for an infinite number of infections. Not like the purity of alabaster.

Notes – Chapter Nineteen – Bugbear flesh – looks strong, as weak as the rest

We climbed down the large shaft, and ended in a huge garden of garbage. Several twig blights met us in battle there. But that did not matter, because I found two more alabaster minions who quickly submitted to me, standing mute, waiting for their calling from my power.
Willow and I ventured north while the others ventured south. We found a large bugbear and his two dire rat hounds. I regretfully lost two of my alabaster companions to the powerful, and apparently magical, morningstar held by the bugbear. Fortunately for me, fate had already intervened, and I commanded the two docile alabaster minions in the garden to replace them. By then, the others had rejoined us in the north and the bugbear proved that even his powerful flesh was ultimately weak, and we dispatched him.

Notes – Chapter Twenty – Interesting – is plant fiber strong where flesh is weak?

In the next chamber, we found a room with six more rooms leading from it. Each one held goblins, or experiments done by goblins, all involving plants. Most interesting of all was the dire rat that was strapped to a table, branches like plants growing from its flesh. I will have to consult with Willow when we have the chance to discuss it. Could this be another path? Flesh turned fiber, fiber of a plant, fibers that are strong where flesh is weak? I have my doubts. We have snapped the twigs of the blights easily enough, but then, they were but saplings compared to the mightiest of trees. And it is true that even alabaster can snap. Trees can certainly live far longer than flesh – even the flesh of the elves. This will bear further scrutiny, though I fear it is outside my expertise. Willow must help me here.

Notes – Chapter Twenty-One – Even more interesting – Rock as flesh?

In another chamber we discovered a creature seemingly made of molten rock that attacked and burned us. But that was not what was interesting about it. What was interesting was that the creature had no flesh, and truly was made of nothing but rock. Rock lasts even longer than trees. Rock is, but for magma, eternal. Is this the secret I seek? But then this creature was born of rock, and I did not know how one could ever turn living flesh to living rock. So many questions. I have, for now, very few answers. But I have learned enough to know that my leaving my home has proved very fruitful for my research. I’ve discovered far more in a few days than I had progressed in the prior few years. These explorations must continue! And I hope we find this druid here so I can question him about his experiments with plant fiber from flesh. We must find him! Or at least his notes.

 

[Altalazar]

Notes – Chapter Twenty-Two – A Powerful Friend – and Belak’s Notes

We traveled through several more chambers of gardens and such, which I left to Willow to examine. We also found more alabaster friends, which would prove fruitful for later. They were quite beautiful, even covered in fungus-dung, or whatever it is they were doing. Willow said it was compost, and I take her at her word.
We found a chamber with a very powerful being, something of darkness and shadow. It had a beauty of a different sort from my alabaster friends. It was almost insubstantial. It was almost not there at all. It’s chill touch drained away the strength of one of my party. It was also strong! So strong that I could not control it, though I did quickly set it to cowering. No matter how many times I tried to hold my skull aloft to tame it, it remained wild and free. What a wondrous being! I will have to study this further, though I fear its insubstantiality makes it a poor choice for my research. One cannot easily lift a spoon or a pot with hands of shadow.
The chamber also had a statute, one that looked like a dragon. The Marshall stood before it and said, in Draconic, “Let the Sorcerous Power Illuminate my Mind” and found that it did, as a red mist enveloped him. He commanded his legions much more effectively, at least for a short time, and would return to that room later.
But none of that matters as much as what we found in the next chamber, down a long hallway, through some soggy stairs. We found all of Belak’s notes! Volumes of them! I could (and did) spend weeks studying them. Perhaps there is something to plant-flesh after all, but I would need Willow’s help to make sense of them. I had hoped to ask Belak about them, but then he did not provide us an opportunity. He did make an interesting comment before we slaughtered him, however.

Notes – Chapter Twenty-Three – Belak’s Grove – The Gulthias Tree

Beyond the room with Belak’s notes was an enormous underground grove. It was thick with thorns and plants and was difficult to traverse for us (except for Willow, of course). At its far end, though really its center, was an enormous tree. A singular tree of evil, its blackened, twisted limbs reaching upwards like beautiful alabaster hands clawing their way from the earth. Around its base was a cobbled courtyard surrounded by a half-height stone wall.
Standing at the base of the tree was two humans with skin of bark, a large frog, several twig blights, and Belak himself, in all his glory. As we reached the edge of the briars, he spoke to us.
“I am Belak, called the Outcast. The druidic society expelled me, the fools. And why? Because I dared to expand nature’s reach in ways their puny minds couldn’t grasp. I don’t care. I have found what I long sought, embodied in the Gulthias tree.”
He paused and then looked up at the tree behind him. “It’s beautiful, no? It lives, though it looks dead. In an age long past, someone staked a vampire to the earth on this very spot. The wooden stake was yet green and took root. And so grew the Gulthias tree, reverberating with dark primal power to those who can tap it.”
I would later learn from his notes that the vampire staked to the ground had something to do with the ancient dragon Ashardalon, though exactly how was unclear. I also learned from his notes that the twig blights grow from the seeds of the apple that grows on the tree. They mature in a year and then walk off in search of prey. And they can reproduce themselves as well in some way plants do, from a piece. Willow would understand better.
Belak then reached his climax of conversation. “While your remains would enrich the compost, you’ll better serve my needs as supplicants to the Gulthias tree, much like these two adventurers here. You retain your lives, after a fashion. Submit peacefully, or it will go the worse for you!”
And so then began the epic combat with Belak. Willow tried to entangle him and his ilk, though they were safe on the cobblestones. And Belak entangled all of us. And for good measure, a dozen more twig blights came from the brambles around us to join the five already by the tree. It was a long, slow fight, as we moved through entanglement and brambles to slowly make our way to the courtyard, slaying twig blights as we went.
Belak sent forth a ball of fire that seemed almost alive as it followed the mute bard around, burning him nearly to death. The adventure supplicant who used to be a paladin nearly killed Erky Timbers, and he did slay two of my alabaster friends! For that, he must be killed, though it did not matter, because as a supplicant, he was dead already. His sorcerous companion was felled by arrows.
Belak himself was finally slain by our combined strength when he was all that remained of his tiny empire. I did regret not having the chance to parlay with him about his research, but his notes should suffice. No need to talk to him if I have all of his knowledge in such an easily accessible form. And being dead does not prevent one from asking questions of one.
Hanging on the tree was a golden fruit, ready for picking. It has powerful healing properties, so we kept it, and hopefully we can keep it preserved for when we need it.

Notes – Chapter Twenty-Four – Back to Oakhurst – To sell for Research Funding

We returned to Oakhurst, leaving my alabaster friends behind (for now) so as not to alarm the good citizens there. We sold much of what we found and we claimed the reward for the two signet rings we found. Our funding would have been better had their owners still lived, but then my research has not progressed quite that far. I still had an idea about that, however, though I kept it to myself.
We found good prices for everything we sold. In particular, we found an old dwarf who was quite excited about the notes we found from an old dwarven citadel. It was the last refuge of Durgeddin the Black, a dwarven smith and leader of great reknown. The old dwarf told us the papers we found (and sold to him) showed the location of his citadel and forge. He said he would go to it himself, were he not so old and infirm, but he asked us to go for him. He said we could keep whatever we found there with no insult to dwarven kind, but he asked that we retrieve any weapons we could find forged by Durgeddin and sell them to him. He offered to give us the full market price for each, plus 500 gold coins, a very generous offer, according to the Marshall. Such coin could fund my research for some time. So we agreed to his contract and set out for the mountain citadel (after a brief stop for supplies in Oakhurst with our newfound coin).
And we had one other stop on the way. I returned to the corpses of the two adventurers by the tree. We buried them in shallow graves and then, over the course of week, we used the clear metal whistle over those graves, and raised them both as zombies, loyal to us. While not as pretty as my alabaster friends, they provided other benefits, with the help of Willow’s talents.

Book II

Notes – Chapter Twenty-Five – Wilderness path to Mountain Entrance

Willow was quite excited about our trek through the trackless foothills before the small mountain that held the fortress. She pointed out tracks of orc patrols that led to the mountain as well as their former encampments and hunting parties. Her knowledge led us to easily ambush four orcs on patrol. Their corpses piled high, we headed forward, ripe with the knowledge that their brethren occupied the top of the citadel we sought. We reached the base of the mountain and began to climb, heading toward the entrance. As we neared the final turn along the edge of the mountain, two orcs came into sight. They were certainly going to be in for a shock when they saw our party, a dozen strong, a half-dozen still living, heading their way.

 

[Altalazar]

Notes – Chapter Twenty-Six – Orc Flesh is weak

The orcs had some self-awareness that their flesh is weak. They departed the escarpment as soon as they saw our undead army approaching their position. We quickly gave chase, the zombies bringing up the rear. The former paladin looked particularly grim as his dead flesh clawed its way along the mountainside path. So interesting to watch the dead flesh move, its pieces slipping off the bone in places. I wondered why the zombie flesh, while stronger, was so much slower than its nimble alabaster cousin. There was only one answer. More research.
As we rounded the corner and entered the face of the mountain, arrows began to issue forth from hidden holes in the rock face. So the orcs know flesh is weak and take appropriate precautions to protect their flesh. The mute bard sent his magic into their holes and hopefully put them to sleep while we followed the self-aware orc flesh though the door to their fortress and into the mountain. Their flesh did not live far past that threshold.
I followed slowly behind with my zombies, verifying that at least for that time, the arrow orcs were silent. Inside, I saw a large chasm that was crossed by a small rope bridge guarded by two more orcs on the other side. My alabaster beauties charged straight across the bridge and engaged them, allowing my research assistants to cross unmolested.
The walk across the bridge was not easy. Such things are better written about in a research report than experienced. One can be far more objective that way. My objectivity was sorely tested. I do not enjoy heights. My flesh is as weak as my parents’ was. But I made it across.
On the other side, there were caves and more orcs. We freed two farmers who claimed they would give us a great reward if they returned to their villages, so we let them go. Then we went further into the caves and ended more orc flesh, along with what my reference materials assure me was an ogre. The ogre had two pet wolves, much like Willows, only much less accommodating.
We cleared out all of the orc flesh save three and thoroughly explored the tunnels. Then there was a bit of trouble, but not with orcs.

Notes – Chapter Twenty-Seven – Orc flesh unpreserved for research

The last room to contain orcs, though we did not know this in advance, contained a respectable orc named Burdug. She appeared to be deep into her own research when we stumbled into her room through a hidden door, her pot brewing with exciting possibilities beneath her old, gnarled hands. She was enraged at the interruption, which was entirely understandable. Research is a delicate business! Her two assistants were ready to fight as well, but then they all sensibly decided to talk to us after we surrounded them and showed them they were outnumbered almost four to one.
At least, she decided to talk. When her assistants refused to fight, she threw a flash of alchemist’s fire onto each of them and burned them alive as she called them “useless fools!” That was not very sensible. It is very hard to find good research assistants.
The Marshall asked her what she was working on. She told him, “potions! You ought to try a taste!”
“I’m on a special diet,” he replied.
“Let’s talk about your research,” I asked her, eager to get inside her orcish skull to see what she had learned. I also figured that once I had emptied her mind, she would make a fine specimen herself for my research. Balor disagreed. As her lifeless corpse dropped to the stone floor, I screamed at him, “wait, she was useful!” To which he replied, “She has no knowledge, and orcs are useless in every respect.” As I said before, good research assistants are hard to find.

Notes – Chapter Twenty-Eight – Fire and stirges and tunnels down – Stirge flesh makes other flesh weak

There was one room beyond hers, through a locked door that had the key on our side. We cautiously entered and were met by four flying bird-like creatures that my research reference manual indicated were stirges. They feast on blood. They take the strength of flesh and make it their own, what strength there is. Their flesh, despite partaking of so much of ours, was still weak, and we dispatched them. Which just proves that weak flesh begets weak flesh.
At the far end of the room was a door that did nothing but fill half the room with alchemist’s fire when opened, as evidenced by the four old, charred orc skeletons on the floor in front of it. After confirming that this was indeed the case, and after we put the flames in Belor’s flesh out, we headed down the enhanced, but natural, staircase that led further into the mountain complex. We crossed a short stream before reaching an open cavern, which had nothing remarkable in it save two more stirges. The next room was far more interesting.

Notes – Chapter Twenty-Nine – An unused tomb – what a tease

One of the caves beyond was filled with open caskets of stone, all prepared for the final resting spot of the dwarves who built this fortress. Unfortunately, dwarf flesh was even weaker than orc flesh and it appears that almost all of the dwarves perished before they could be placed here. Only three of the sepulchers of twenty-three were in use. Only one of those had anything of note, a masterwork warhammer bearing the mark of Durgeddin, which made it worth far more than its weight in gold to us. Research is expensive, after all.
Looking east, we saw a huge cavern that was accessible to us from a short stairs to the south, but we abandoned that for now to head west, through a small passage leading to a pool of water at the far end of the stream we found earlier. We sent in my alabaster beauties first, and they sniffed out two foul smelling beasts which they fortunately could not smell at all. Troglodytes. We dispatched them, then searched the cave further to the east, finding a large subterranean lizard on a chain that guarded a chest. We guessed that the chest contained great riches, so our dead paladin accommodated us by approaching the chest, just out of the creature’s grasp. Unfortunately, it was not out of the lizard’s tongue’s grasp, and Sir Bradford soon found himself being slowly eaten by the lizard. There goes our meals for the week. On the plus side, this means the magic of the whistle was freed up to raise one of our dwarven friends in a sepulcher. Though on second thought, perhaps Troglodyte flesh should participate in my next experiment.
In that vein, we opened up a plug in the Troglodyte cave to the west and prepared to face the tribe as a whole inside. At first, all we could see was the darkness and all we could smell was the dank, putrid smell of troglodytes in domestic bliss. Then came the claws.

 

[Altalazar]

Notes – Chapter Thirty – Troglodytes apparently fear flesh?

Our small troop marched into the troglodyte complex on the Marshall’s orders. We soon dispatched them all, save one large one and its pet lizard, and their dozen offspring. The lizard soon died, but then the large one disappeared, having last been spotted standing upside down on the ceiling of its room, sniping through its open doorway.
We searched and searched for him, to no avail. Willow sent forth spiders to feel for his vibrations, but they did not find him before they vanished back into the ether. Belor had inspiration, which I understood. Parents and their offspring. Offspring seeking the flesh of their parents. He told the apparently empty room that we would execute younglings if he did not appear. Belor brought one in and slit its throat, but there was no reaction. The experiment thus over, I asked Belor not to kill any more because it was apparent from the evidence of the first that he did not care. Plus, I wanted them alive for my research. At least initially. He did not listen, and two more young corpses joined the first.
Finally, we all just spread out and waited, hoping whatever magics he had would soon wear off, revealing him. As it turned out, he was revealed, but still well hidden, and it was not until his further magic holding his feet to the ceiling wore off that he appeared before us. Several seconds later, his flesh was no more than rotting on his stinking alabaster bones.
We had much more to explore, so we decided to leave the younglings here for later experiments. The old one we killed was also so tough that I began to wonder if he’d be a better choice for the whistle. We were about to leave and replug the troglodyte cave when the Marshall suggested we take all the corpses of the adults and pile them up by the door to discourage the young ones from trying to escape. I did not understand why that would make any difference. Why should their parents dead flesh prevent them from leaving. If anything, it would attract them to that area as a tasty source of fresh food.
“Vincent,” he told me, “some have an aversion to dead flesh, especially the dead flesh of their parents.” This still does not make sense to me. But since I could not see the harm of it, I did not argue further. This bears further investigation. Why would anyone have an aversion to dead flesh, particularly when that flesh is so well known and revered?

Notes – Chapter Thirty-One – The Glitterhame

Such a thing of beauty. So lovely in shape and form, and how the light glitters off of it. Such was my admiration of my alabaster friends as I healed them from their prior battles and polished their bones. In the meanwhile, my research assistants began to explore the huge cavern we saw earlier that was filled with shiny, glistening, multi-colored minerals that made the whole ceiling look like it was built out of the fiber spun from a million tiny rainbows.
At the far end of the cavern was a locked iron door. There were also further passages north and south. The south passage led to back to the small stream and then down a waterfall to another level below us. The passage to the northeast led to a ledge containing the remains of those who did not survive the pair of gricks we found in its entrance, and subsequently killed before they ate Belor.
To the northwest, we found the remaining cave on this level, which contained two more soon-to-be-dead troglodytes and a black bear in a cage. Willow quickly befriended the poor animal, and then we released it out of a tunnel here that appeared to lead to the surface. Nearby we found two corpses covered in yellow mold, mold Willow warned us to avoid. One of them had a gleaming bastard sword with the mark of Durgeddin on it. I quickly discerned that it was magical and we added it to our spoils. Our avenues thus exhausted, we returned to the large iron door.

Notes – Chapter Thirty-Two – Iron Door – Iron Dwarves

Belor, with much effort, managed to pick the difficult lock on the door and we found stairs on the other side of it. The stairs led up to a large octagonal room that held three metal statues of dwarves, one with two axes, two with one axe, standing before two doors. We quickly discerned that opening the doors led the axes to swing down and slice into the flesh of whomever was standing within their great reach. We also determined that both of the doors led nowhere. Which did not matter, because a third door hidden in the east wall led to Durggedin’s main throne room.
Our approach was well known, perhaps because of the magic mouth that shouted “intruders!’ as soon as we approached the room. Another live voice soon followed, warning us, “Go back the way you came! This is the only warning you will get!”
The Marshall, never impressed by warnings with dire consequences, attempted to parlay with the disembodied voice. The conversation turned bloody when he ordered us all into the room, which was of considerable size.
Halfway across the stone floor, we still saw nothing, until the nothing became three dwarves of dark complexion and of rather considerable size. They nearly killed Breeze, Willow’s wolf, before two were dispatched. The third then retreated toward the throne, where a fourth appeared to ambush the Marshall and Willow from their pursuit. My alabaster friends were about to make the killing blow when Willow was knocked to the ground! I could feel her life force draining away. Her flesh, weak or not, must not expire!
My alabaster friends all abandoned their fight and quickly picked her up and carried her to me. Even before she arrived at my feet, my fingers were weaving my most powerful healing magic, ready to bind her wounds and end her suffering, knitting together her flesh. Fortunately, my magic was powerful, and she was well. Some time later, I noticed the fight was over, and the four dwarves, now back to dwarf size, were all dispatched. My research assistants looted their flesh and I continued to knit Willow’s. It was then that I noticed the faint sound of hammer on anvil coming from the south.

 

[Altalazar]

Notes – Chapter Thirty-Three – Weak Flesh, but Strong Metal

Belor quickly moved to the door, his ear pressed to it. “The hammering is coming from behind here,” he announced. My alabaster friends moved to flank him by the door and we all prepared to enter the room.
Belor opened the door. We saw a huge room filled with anvils, split by a fast river, spanned by two stone bridges, and three gray dwarves stood pounding metal on metal. Then Belor closed the door.
A few preparations later, the door was again opened, and we “surprised” them, moving in at the Marshall’s direction at a speed unheard of before in my research. We were across the river and slicing into their flesh before they could even stop hammering their anvils. Or rather, my research assistants and alabaster friends were across the river. I stayed where I could get the best vantage point, near the door. After all, one cannot get good research notes from the thick of the action. One needs to be a detached, neutral observer. I pulled out my notebook and began to transcribe.
Fascinating how angry they were at being interrupted. They began to hammer at my lab assistants in protest. Their protests were in vain. Even more fascinating were the three more grey dwarves, these ones as large as giants, that appeared from the ether and attacked us. Two were on this side of the river, one of them swinging at me, nearly disrupting my note taking. The third send a spray of colors toward Willow, but they did not affect her.
The Marshall, still outside the room, moved in to engage the large dwarf on myself, allowing me to properly record what occurred. For instance, were it not for his move, I would never have had such a good vantage point to see and record the rat that jumped out of the shadows at the Marshall and sunk its teeth into his boot, sending a discharge of negative energy with its first bite and a large burst of electrical energy with its second. Were it not for my brave note taking and research acumen, I would not have been able to then discern that this rat was the familiar of the color spraying dwarf, nor would I have been able to deduce that its bursts of energy were spells cast through it by its master. Such knowledge would have been forever lost after we had killed its master, which we of course proceeded to do, after a short delay.
First, we dispatched the anvil workers. Then we dispatched the two fighters on our side of the river, as they were quickly swarmed by research assistants, alabaster friends, and a wolf. Then the wizard vanished from sight, just as Willow’s summoned spider was bearing down on it. Her spider then climbed over the river, via the ceiling, and began to skitter about on the bank on this side of the river. My careful observations had its mandibles snapping at air, which I dutifully recorded as consistent with the position of the dwarf wizard, who then appeared on our side of the river with a burst of energy against the Marshall, just as he was about to sweep the huge room with a rope. The wizard was back to dwarf stature by then, and he did not last long. I had hoped to interrogate him about various matters, to clarify them for my notes, but I forgot to tell the Marshall to stop because I was in the midst of making a sketch of his change in proportions when the final slice of his flesh ended his life in a spurt of blood. The mute bard, dutiful as always, took a sample of each specimen, something I’d seen him do with each freshly generated corpse on our travels, and this without any direction from me whatsoever! Good laboratory assistants are truly hard to find.

Notes – Chapter Thirty-Four – Sinkhole, Angle One – More friends for research – Table flesh is splintered

We further explored the room and determined that the river we saw had an eastward flow that ended in a giant sinkhole into darkness. We explored its edges, but left the rest for another exploration, which is more fully explained in my laboratory observations in chapter Thirty-Six.
Our avenues in that direction exhausted, we opened the southwestern door in the throne room, and discovered a kitchen. Upon our entry, the table there animated and attacked. I had first high hopes for the strength of the table as compared to flesh, but we splintered it quickly, leaving not even a corpse behind to study, though the Mute Bard did take a sample nonetheless. In the room beyond was a pantry, where we rested and recouperated.
I began to cook some meat stew. I happily and generously offered to share it with all of my hardworking assistants. We had gotten a fresh infusion of supplies in the anvil room, and I looked forward to tasting it, fresh as it was. The Marshall was again reluctant to partake, as was Belor and the Mute Bard. The Marshall said he’d eat the dead rat familiar, but Willow was shocked, as was I. And Willow had already seen that the dead rat would meet a natural end as a meal of natural carrion. Belor and the Marshall then both said they’d eat any ANIMAL flesh that we cooked for them. This was too much and I threw up all over myself and the floor. Animal flesh? How barbaric and disgusting! How could they possibly eat the flesh of animals? “More meat stew anyone?” I asked as I continued to cook, trying to keep the horrid thoughts created by the Marshall out of my mind. Again, they refused, leaving Willow and I the only to partake of my cooking. They really will need to keep their strength up. Flesh is weak. Though it can be tasty.
The northwestern door from the throne room was next. And inside, to my delight, were corpses and bones!
Two large pile of bones lay to either side of an altar. A dessicated orc corpse stood before a prostrate dwarven corpse, each in half-plate armor. The Marshall directed my alabaster friends to scout it out, but they found nothing. Then we all entered, and we found something wonderful! The orc stood and attacked, as did two large alabaster beauties! I could hardly contain my excitement, and I almost dropped my skull before I held it forward to them and spoke my calming words. The large skeletons both immediately bowed down to my command, and the orc cowered in the corner. I was so upset that he did not take my commands, but I did keep my researcher’s objectivity as I studied him carefully. From my research, I was able to determine that he was a wight, a rare specimen, that up until now I’d only read about. Such dark, ugly flesh, yet so beautiful. I could feel its beautiful ebony energy flowing from its fingertips as it stood there prostrate before me. Such strong fingers, so dangerous, able to drain the life force of anything living with but a touch. I burned with the desire to have it follow me and obey my every whim, but it just was not to be. With great reluctance, before it could recover from my rebuke, my research assistants slashed its leathery flesh to ribbons, ending its unlife forever.
And though I could command the two large alabaster beauties, I had to surrender control of two of my less imposing friends. I left them here in this room, this forgotten shrine, to keep the dead dwarf, the great Durgeddin, according to the scribblings of the mute bard, to keep him company. His bones, at least. The Marshall was quickly looting his corpse of his half-plate.

Notes – Chapter Thirty-Five – Allip makes my heart flutter, rugs smother me

We then went to the last door unopened from the throne room, the northeast door. There we saw a room with two halls leading off of it, and a dark pool in the center of it. And most exciting of all, we saw a floating apparition, dark and misty, like black smoke, that was jabbering and gibbering unintelligibly, moving ever closer. Before it could overtake us, Belor closed the door yet again.
“An Allip,” I breathed excitedly. “I’ve never seen one in the flesh!” I said, and then corrected myself. “Of course, I meant that literally, since they have no flesh at all and are entirely incorporeal.” I further explained, “They are creatures born of those driven to suicide by madness. And trying to listen to them breeds more madness, for they say nothing but the unintelligible.” What I did not say was that I wondered if there really was something they said, and that researchers had just not figured it out yet. If only I had more time to study it! I hoped I could command it, but from my fleeting feel of it through the open door, it felt very strong, probably too strong for me to control. But I knew I could rebuke it, for nothing I had faced, no matter how strong, could ever stand up to me in all of my travels. I readied my skull and Belor opened the door for me.
I held aloft the skull and channeled the ebon flow through me as I had done so many times before. The Allip immediately stopped its babble and hovered in the air, rebuked and forlorn. I wished I could study it further, but I knew it would take some time for my alabaster friends to end it. We gave them our two enchanted weapons (which I explained would be necessary to harm it) and then left them to slowly wear it down while I scribbled down notes as fast as my fingers could write them. When it at last faded away to nothing, I felt very sad, and ran forward and tried to get some fleeing feel of its cold form before it vanished entirely. I felt a brief chill, and then nothing at all.
With a sigh, I returned to my place of good observation from the rear, and we explored the many rooms along the two halls to the east and west. We found nothing of interest in most, though Willow did find a scimitar of exceptional quality in the bony grip of a long-dead explorer (as evidenced by his non-orc and non-dwarf status). We also found a room full of a half dozen alabaster beauties of normal size, which I rebuked and then left in their place for our possible return. And finally, we found a room of some wealth, which included a desk and many papers. I went in at once to collect them, and was nearly enveloped by the large rug that covered the floor. At the Marshall’s urging, I ran out of that room before it could move again and we dispatched it with arrows and fire from the safety of the hall. Then we found the last rooms of all, and met a woman of unearthly beauty, in the literal sense.

Notes – Chapter Thirty-Six – The Wizard’s Library and Guest – And Sinkhole, Perspective Two

We opened the door to a library, a door left unlocked, but no less a prison. Inside we saw a form quickly resolve itself into a woman of some beauty. But there was something somewhat off about her. Looking closely at her, and remembering what I saw when the door opened, I realized that she was not of this plane. Her name was Idalla, which she quickly told us. What she had failed to tell us, but which the Marshall confronted her with at my urging, was that she was a demon known as a “suck-yoo-buss.” I was unsure exactly what that meant, but knew enough that one should never kiss such a beast unless one was already in the ebon flow.
Before confronted by the Marshall, she said, “A vile wizard has imprisoned me in this library. Please, tell me I can go free!” At the same time, she worked some magic, which I discerned to be an enchantment to detect those of good hearts. I assumed she found we all met the description, which is why it puzzled me when she later said that her curse “only allows her to leave if one of a good heart gives permission” but that none of our party would be able to help her. Strange, indeed. This curse must also have made her lose her mind.
The Marshall did convince her with some well-spoken words that, despite our knowledge that she was a demon, “hey, we can work with you” and he promised her that “we will return with someone more suitable for granting your freedom as soon as we are able.”
She explained that she did not know where the vile wizard was, and when the Marshall asked her how we could trust her if not to attack us if we freed her, she replied, “I have a date with a wizard.”
After looting the adjoining bedroom, we returned to the hall, where the Marshall decided that if we could not free her one way, another way is just as well, and we fired arrows at her from the safety of the hall outside the library. She shrieked, and then she laughed as all of the arrows bounced harmlessly off of her demon-flesh. I took a great many notes. Perhaps demon flesh is flesh that is not so weak.
We searched the adjoining hall and found a secret passageway that led to a sinkhole, which by the sound of rushing water beyond our vision, seemed to be another angle on the one we saw before in the forge. And this one had a chain ladder leading down along the side into darkness. We rested again in the kitchen, were I again offered to share my somewhat less-fresh meat, but got no takers but Willow. Then we returned to the sinkhole and descended into darkness.

Notes – Chapter Thirty-Seven – The Black Lake

At the bottom of the ladder we found a pool of water that collected the flow of the water from above. The water was frothing from the great waterfall from the sinkhole. There was a ledge for us to stand on and a stone bridge leading to the waterfall to the south and then another stone bridge to the east that led to another ledge around the outside of a great, dark, black subterranean lake.
We first checked the bridge in front of us for safety, and then crossed it, to explore the base of the waterfall. Willow noticed tracks leading in the mud from the water up to the rocky ledge. She said it looked like the tracks of a four legged reptile with a long tail. We all figured she had discovered another reptile like the long-tongued beast we had seen above. We were wrong.
The Marshall suggested sending my alabaster beauties, particularly the two large ones, to dredge the bottom of the falls to see what they could find that was shiny and valuable. It seemed dubious, at best, but search they did, and one did eventually return to the surface clutching a shiny longsword, glowing with enchantment and stamped with the mark of Durgeddin.
We then returned to the rocky path and headed toward the second bridge. This bridge was pitted and frail-looking, but still seemed strong enough to hold at least one of us at a time. We carefully crossed over it one by one until we were on the other side, by the lake. Balor saw it first.
A black reptilian head appeared out of the water in front of us. It took a quick breath and then exhaled a long stream of acid right between our ranks, melting away to nothing one of my poor, large alabaster beauties, right before my eyes! Through my tears, I saw that the Marshall, the Mute Bard, and Willow were also hurt by the acid. Before we could react, the head then disappeared back into the dark, murky water.
The Marshall ran back across the bridge and back to the ladder, where I joined him with some healing from my wand. He did not look in great shape, though I was still weeping over my alabaster loss. The tears did not prevent me from seeing what happened next.
Suddenly, bursting forth from the water came the reptile, colored black, standing on the bank and slashing at the Marshall. This was no lizard. This was a black dragon!
At the Marshall’s direction, my alabaster friends and laboratory assistants all ran back to the Marshall and nearly surrounded the beast, slashing away at its thick hide. I stepped back and let them work. The dragon then slipped back into the water and disappeared.
Willow send into the water an alligator, summoned from the ether, and I sent in an ether-zombie of my own, to chase it beneath the surface. They were nowhere near it, as it turned out, until it swam back toward the lake, when they both took swipes at its scaled hide. By the time we all returned to where it lay beneath the water, it was ready to spray us with its acid breath again, nearly dissolving away another one of my alabaster beauties! It then turned to flee, cowardly beast, and so I threw into the water every one of my beauties to surround it, and then the Mute Bard screamed a voiceless scream and charged, jumping from the shore and landing upon it, his magical touch changing its skin from black to bright white, making it stand out as a target in the darkness. My alabaster beauties then combined with Willow’s crocodile to tear its flesh to ribbons until it slowly sank down toward the bottom.
My large alabaster beauty helped us pull the carcass out of the water. We then went to its small island in the lake and recovered its treasure, which included many coins and our last great find, a dwarven waraxe, magical, and stamped with the mark of Durgeddin. Such a find was surely to gather us even more coin from the dwarven collector.
The Marshall set about carving up the carcass of the dragon for trophies, but I stayed his hand. “I have a much better idea.”

Notes – Chapter Thirty-Eight – A Better Idea

The complex thus cleared, we packed our finds and I finalized my notes for the journey back. But first I, I sprinkled out on the ground a large circle of silver dust, intoning the words of darkness as I did so. The air grew noticibly colder and I felt the ebon energy flow outwards from the circle to all of my alabaster friends standing nearby. It was a warm, good feeling, one which I felt a fleeting presence from within me fuel before the spell took over and then filled the entire area.
The ritual thus complete, I sat down on the ground, my legs crossed, and began to play. The tune was melancholy and dark, but it had a beauty to it that I always enjoyed on the few occasions I’d had thus far to play it. The tune on the whistle thus complete, I felt the freshly dug ground beneath me stir. First a claw, then another claw, then a wing appeared, until standing before me was the unliving corpse of the dragon, its flesh only just starting to rot. And its undead flesh awaiting my first command. Yes, a much better idea.

 

[Altalazar]

Book III

Notes – Chapter Thirty-Nine – Another good idea – Fruits of Research

The troglodyte younglings proved to be useful for my research. My most important find was that living troglodyte flesh was actually much more offensive to the olfactory nerves than dead and decaying troglodyte flesh. Proving what I already instinctively knew, which is that many types of living flesh, for many reasons, is much more unpleasant than dead flesh. This proved especially true when it came to troglodyte cuisine, though there was a certain spicy rush when consuming their living flesh, this can only be appreciated if one does not immediately expel the fresh meal.
My experiments thus complete on them, I stored them for travel, as rations were low, and based on previous delicious snacks with our sorceress, I decided that her flesh was not going to stay long on her bones, so I ended her unlife and, with the whistle, picked up the troglodyte chief as my new erstwhile companion. His first duty to me was to carry our fresh troglodyte-veal rations for our long journey back. I tasked the large alabaster beauty with carrying our sorceress rations, and ration her we did, because such delicate flavor is somewhat addictive. Though strangely, still, the Marshall did not seem particularly interested in my stews. Perhaps he favors other flavors. I will have to keep trying out new recipies on him. My large alabaster beauty also carried our emergency kobold jerky goblin rations.
Thus well stocked for our epic journey, we returned to the road to civilization, much to Willow’s sorrow. She and I certainly enjoy being out in the fresh woods. She wisely sees the decay inherent in the city stomping out the living nature, and I can see all of the flesh wasted on the living serving a similar polluted purpose within civilization’s cobblestoned prison.

Notes – Chapter Forty – Awakenings

The Marshall took and sold most of our valuables, starting with the Durgeddin weapons. I assume he managed to get a good price. All I know was that he came back and gave both Willow and I nearly ten thousand gold coins each. Willow immediately spent all of hers on various things, including a breastplate made entirely of wood. It was very nice. I’m not sure what else she spent it on. I was too busy researching and assimilating my research notes. I had much to transcribe! In the magical arena, I have discovered a magical formula that can allow me to control the undead, any undead. I was so excited when I saw it, I had to tell Willow right away! I also found another necromantic enchantment that allows me to touch at a distance, something Willow said would keep me out of harm’s way.
In my research, I discovered something most exciting! There is a way to give a spark of intellect to my mindless friends, or the “quiet ones” as I call them. But it requires magic well beyond my meager skills. But then I thought perhaps the Great Old One could help me, and I was right!
I found him where I usually do, in his crooked cottage on the edge of the woods that stretch back to our own empty cabin. As I thought of that empty place, I wondered if our parents were ok. I will have to go and check on them the next chance we get. I’ve almost learned enough to help them, though I still think it may be some time before I can put that knowledge into action.
The Great Old One peered at me from the cracks in his repeatedly-patched door and asked me what I wanted.
“I want to awaken my quiet friends,” I told him, and gestured to my four alabaster men, my large alabaster man, my troglodyte, and my dragon. “Please, can you help me? I can pay,” I said as I showed him a handful of platinum coins.
His eyes widened, then his gnarled hand reached through the wooden planks on his barely-intact door and his dirty fingers opened on his palm. “One hundred ninety-one platinum, it will take,” he said.
I eagerly scooped the coins into his hand, and then stepped back, my eyes darting back and forth between my friends and his bloodshot eyes peering through the gaps in the door. His dirty hands, fingernails curled at the ends, both appeared and he began to whisper words of great necromantic power. Dark energies flowed out to my friends and enveloped them, and then their eyes, dull and lifeless, turned bright, and they all began to look at one another, and at me. I was so excited, I forgot to take notes, and just stood there gasping with delight.
From what I later remember, I spent some time talking to them all, telling them all how much I appreciate them all, how much I valued their friendship. We all held hands together and I told them stories, taught them games, and we had a grand time. It was one of the happiest moments of my life. My friends could finally talk to me, and share my dreams! I told them of my plans to save my parents, and they all listened with rapt attention (after I ordered them to do no less).
I could not wait to show them to Willow, and to the Marshall as well. Now his orders to them would be much more effective in a fight, and they would be able to independently plan as well. I gave each of them a potion for them to drink if they were injured, giving several to some, and told them to drink it as soon as they were hurt, unless they were in no immediate danger and could come to me for healing. I did not want to lose any of my friends!
I also bought chain shirts for them all, even the dragon, along with a few more weapons, greatswords all. Now they were well armed and well protected, and able to heal themselves. And the Marshall’s special talents will now give them full benefit, which ought to make them invincible! Dead flesh is strong!

Notes – Chapter Forty-One – Mysterious Keep Beckons

I returned to Willow and told her the good news. I discovered that not only was all of her gold gone, she still wanted to buy more things, so I bought some armor for Breeze, though it did take some time to find some that could be adapted for a wolf. He looked a little uncomfortable in it, but then I would be too. The studded leather shirt I had been wearing was proving too difficult to work my magic in, so I removed it.
I bought a cloak to protect me, along with more potions for my friends, and a wand of curing for my lab assistants benefit to complement the one Willow bought. Our nearly depleted wand was given to the Mute Bard.
Willow and I then retreated to the forest and I had my newfound awakened friends help her pick berries and gather tulips in the wild. We had a wonderful time together. We were one big happy family again.
Some time later, the Marshall found us in the woods and we arranged to stay outside an inn on the edge of town while my lab assistants stayed inside. The Marshall had a dwarf with him, named Makkal. He first told us we had a job that would pay us each a thousand gold coins. I said, “Great! Let’s go,” and then I said, “wait, what are we doing?”
The Marshall explained that there was an abandoned keep, Brightstone Keep, that used to protect a lucrative mine known as Brightstone Mine, a great source of iron ore, gold, and gems in its day. The Marshall told us that there was trouble there, and trouble in town as well. The military was occupied elsewhere, leaving the town at night free for brigands, and the sheriff and town council were unable to do much about it.
The Marshall said that the head of the council offered us one thousand gold coins each if we were to deal with the keep menace. He then said, “it is rumored that undead and ghosts walk the keep.”
“A keep of undead,” I said, excited. But then I thought for a moment and was confused. “Wait,” I said, “so what are the undesirables that they want to get rid of?”
The Marshall replied, “The rumors could be wrong, and there could be other things in the keep.”
“Ah, ok, I understand, and perhaps those other things are keeping the poor undead hostage!”
With that matter settled, we retired for the night. My large covered wagon and horse was parked by the inn, and I slept underneath the wagon, while Willow slept in the trees nearby. My friends kept watch in the wagon above me and in the woods by Willow. The Marshall suggested I keep them out of sight in town. I considered this a very sensible suggestion. After all, it wasn’t safe out at night, what, with all the brigands about town. I would not want any of my friends hurt in the night while I slumbered.

Notes – Chapter Forty-Two – On the Road

In the morning, we set out, Makkal going along with us. The Marshall explained to me privately that we need not worry if he is going to betray us or otherwise act in a bad manner. We could just kill him. It is hard to argue with that logic. I wondered if regular dwarf flesh had a different consistency than the gray dwarf flesh we experienced earlier.
The road at first was well-traveled, so I kept my friends in the wagon, out of sight, to protect them from bandits. Willow was concerned that the poor horse had to work to pull the cart, but he was willing to do it.
We stopped for a short while for a meal during the day, and I offered some of my stew, as always, to the others. We were off to the side of the road, so my friends could come out and stretch. The dwarf came out and saw my friends sitting in a circle, talking and playing cards.
“Wait, the sheriff hired THIS group?” he asked incredulously. “I’ve got to give it to you guys if you managed to get the Sheriff to approve this.”
“The Sheriff did not see our whole group,” replied the Marshall.
“Still,” the dwarf said, “that is impressive.” He then explained that he had a few run ins with the Sheriff himself,, and so that was why he was not hired by him.
Back to my stew, the dwarf approached as I was offering it, and he agreed to try some. He seemed to really like it. He asked me for the recipie. I promised him I would get it for him, though I told him it involved a unique ingredient that we had in short supply. (After all, I thought to myself, we only have the one ex-zombie, ex-Gulthias-tree supplicant, ex-living human sorcerer, and she can only go so far), but I did thank him for the complement and gave him seconds.
He was less impressed with the offered kobold jerky, and side of troglodyte sticks, and so he did not ask for those recipies. Which was just as well, since I did not make the jerky. We finished eating and resumed our travels.
Once we reached the intersection with the less-traveled road to the keep, my friends could finally get out and walk and talk with me as we went. My large alabaster friend took over wagon-pulling duty, giving our horse the chance to rest in the wagon. At Willow’s suggestion, we positioned the horse’s rear end off the back of the cart.

Notes – Chapter Forty-Three – Glowing Red Eyes – Damn, wrong type of eyes!

It was starting to get toward dusk when my normally dull ears heard something in the deep underbrush on the left side of the road. My normally blurry vision happened to resolve itself there on two red glowing eyes, barely visible through the brush. My heart beat faster, could it be more potential friends for me! But no, charging from the brush on the other side of us was a giant wolf, and it went right for Rolo, one of my alabaster friends.
At the same time, another one struggled out from the side I saw, much slowed by some quick entangle magic from Willow. Before we could react, the wolf was on top of Rolo and nearly destroyed him. Bad wolf! To make it worse, he knocked Rolo to the ground, and things looked grim. Rolo shrieked for help. And Simon came to the rescue!
Simon, another alabaster friend, ran up to Rolo and grabbed him, taking his own wounds from the wolf in the process. He then dragged Rolo away from the beast, next to me, where he was safe. Rolo stood up and pulled out a small skull, unstoppered it, and drank down his healing potion. The magical fluid went through his jawbone and then melted away into his open rib-cage where it vanished as his bones mended themselves back to normal. Rolo was safe! Simon waited by my side for my own healing magic, saving his skull for later. I could not heal him at once because I was sending a ray of weakness toward the red eyed wolf to the left, which struck it squarely between the eyes, slowing it down.
Brunt let go of the wagon and moved his large bones over to the right-wolf, joined by my lab assistants, who then quickly overwhelmed and killed that wolf. The second wolf was then surrounded and finished off as well. Willow was sad to do it, but that is life in the wild.
After they were dispatched, Willow followed their tracks back to a small cave where there were two large wolf pups. She quickly rescued them and placed them in the cart, with the horse, who then decided he wanted to walk beside the cart. No wonder the wolves attacked us. There was no food whatsoever in this area to eat. And there was nothing for us to eat, either, beyond our stores. The Marshall again suggested we eat, ANIMAL flesh, the flesh of the wolves, and I threw up all over my boots.
“That is just so disgusting! How can you keep saying that? That’s like cannibalism,” I said, and Willow silently agreed. She left the wolves out for carrion and we prepared to continue on. We did collect the wolf skins. Then Brunt picked up the wagon hitch and we walked the rest of the way to the edge of the forest before the keep.

Notes – Chapter Forty-Four – Keep on the Borderlands in Sight

From the road, we could see the keep in the distance, on the side of a mountain. I sent up Blackberry, my dragon, to scout from the air and then report to us what he saw. He said he saw humanoid shapes walking the three towers of the keep, but he did not get close enough to see what they were. He also said he saw trails up the side of the mountain that would allow us to approach the keep from above on a relatively unprotected angle. The only problem would be how we would then climb down to the keep.
We approached closer for a climb up the mountain, and eventually we were close enough to determine that it was orcs in the towers. I hope the orcs haven’t hurt any potential friends in there. The only thing weaker than orc flesh is orc brains (at least, that’s what Trosty, my other zombie friend, told me).
We left the horse and cart and pups in the edge of the woods and started our climb up the mountain. We decided to go in the day, hoping the orcs would be nocturnal, and even if they weren’t, we could not see in the dark and they could, so we need not give them that advantage (so says the Marshall – my friends can see just fine).
Once we had climbed around and above the keep, apparently still out of the vision of the orcs, we had a problem. How to get down? But Blackberry solved that for us. He helped lower everyone down by rope, flew some others down, and then he flew down last, taking the rope with him.
At the base of the keep, we saw an entrance to the mine, an entrance filled with tracks of humanoids, orcs and humans and others, heading in and out. Finally, we find a source of food! The Marshall and Willow debated whether to enter the mine or the keep first. We did not want to leave anyone behind us in either place, but then we settled on the keep first, because that is bound to be where the military might is held. After all, that’s what the keep was built for – to protect the mine. We then entered the keep through a hole in a wall and crept up on a large winter wolf tied to a well.

Notes – Chapter Forty-Five – Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing (Well, White in Color at least) – Then Towers of Orcs

The white wolf was rather hostile at first, but Willow talked to her and calmed her down. She was well-fed, but she had been beaten by the horrid orcs. Willow offered to free her, but since she could not pick the lock on the chain around her neck, and since the wolf would not let anyone but Willow touch her, Belor had to talk her through it. She eventually succeeded, and freed the wolf, who slowly crept off. We then turned our attention to the first tower.
Belor moved quietly into the first tower, and we followed. On the first floor, we found nothing of note. On the second floor, Belor discovered that the orcs there were asleep in their beds, and he helped them to remain in bed indefinitely with a quick slice to each of their throats. Finally, we have some food.
We heard footsteps above, and they must have heard us, because we heard shouts from above, in orcish, which Belor quickly replied to. Belor called them down, and two orcs descended. We quickly surrounded them and killed them without too much difficulty, though it was noisy. The orc above seemed unsurprised by the sounds of combat. I looked at Trosty, who then nodded to me, seeming to say “see, I told you so,” with his glowing red eyes.
The Mute Bard opened up the trap door to the roof again, and tried to send the remaining orc (that we could see) into slumber. The first try did not work, but the second did, and then the trouble began. The orcs twenty feet away, across the gate, on the other tower, who apparently do not care about fights, do care when they see an orc fall.
Thinking quickly, I sent Blackberry over to their tower. Unfortunately, while he is strong and powerful, he is not quick, and by the time he got there, they had descended into the tower. Or rather, the ones who had not been put to sleep by another bardic spell descended. To cut them off, we all ran down the stairs of our own tower, outside, and then into the base of their tower. We met in the middle and faced six orcs and their sergeant in an epic fight that ended with a large jerky and stew resupply of orcish flavor.
Not wanting to break our stride, we ran to the other tower, and before they could escape, we slew those orcs as well. Now we had a lot of work to do, and we had to act fast, before other orcs in the keep could react, and before any of this nice, fresh meat could spoil.

 

[Altalazar]

Notes – Chapter Forty-Six – Troll Flesh is resilient, but ultimately weak

After my alabaster friends cleaned the meat and hung it to dry in the rafters of the tower (while we rested), Balor explored the courtyard. When he returned, we all went down to stand behind him while he opened up the door to one of the two main buildings in the courtyard. Inside, he found what at first seemed like some sort of warm food storage facility. It turned out to be a bit more than that, and most of the food escaped, but I will get to that later.
What drew my attention and fury was the other building, which soon disgorged four goblins and two trolls, who had the temerity to attack my friends! I had Blackberry and Brunt standing to guard the door to that building so that we would not be ambushed while dealing with the first building, and so Brunt took the brunt of the damage from the first troll. The second troll attacked poor Rolo after charging him. Rolo was hurt badly! His bones were about to snap. Quickly, I ordered Simon, Edgar, and Twig to start to surround the second troll, while Blackberry charged him from behind. That troll did not last long. Unfortunately, the first troll did.
Brunt stood valiantly against him. He held him off as long as he could before that horrible, evil, vile, disgusting troll snapped Brunt’s large bones like twigs and Brunt collapsed in a pile of alabaster inside a large chain shirt.
“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” I screamed as I heard his undeath throes. I was not close enough to him to hear his final whisper, and that will haunt me for the rest of my days. In my fury, I conjured a ghostly hand and sent it to grab the throat of the remaining troll to ram a spirit worm down it’s gullet, but it moved and I missed. The hand hovered nearby while my companions and my friends assaulted the troll and took him down. Willow was busy putting fire to the troll that went down first to make sure it stayed down. As she and the others were about to do the same to the troll that killed poor Brunt, I stopped her.
“No, he’s MINE,” I shouted, and I ran to his corpse. I could see its wounds already starting to mend, and I knew it would be all healthy again. If we had more time, I would take his body, strap it down, and have my alabaster friends endlessly torture him for what he did to Brunt, secure in the knowledge that his regeneration would make him last a very long time. But time was short. Goblins, an elf, a gnome, and a dwarf had run out of the first building, and may have been warning those in the mine about our presence. They were all unarmed and held against their will, which was why I assumed it was a warm food storage building, but we later found a schedule that showed they were slave labor for the mine, so they really had a dual role.
In any case, I knelt before the troll that killed Brunt. It was interesting to see flesh that could repair itself so easily, though it still was ultimately weak because it could not repair damage from acid or fire. And it would repair no further, because I reached out my hand and touched it, calling upon the spirits of death. I felt the beast’s heart stop underneath my palm. “No fire for you,” I said to him. “Now you are mine.”
Blackberry, Rolo, Simon, Edgar, and Twig then dug a grave for that troll while Trosty started cleaning the other one plus the four goblins. After the grave was filled, I sat and waited until nightfall. I had Trosty sit beside me. I knew that once the Whistle had done its work, it would no longer control Trosty, so I weaved an enchantment I had recently learned to exert my own control (Trosty being too resilient for my to control directly). As I felt its bindings fall into place, I then blew the whistle over the troll’s fresh grave. He crawled out of the ground and stood before me, my servant.
“Your name is now Brunt’s Revenge,” I told him. His cold, lifeless eyes stared back at me uncomprehendingly. He had no mind. He needed my mentor’s enchantment. I missed Brunt so bad. I began to sob. Brunt would have known to hold me without my having to order him. Brunt’s Revenge had to be ordered to. Somehow, the rotting troll flesh, while thicker than Brunt’s alabaster, did not seem to comfort me as much. Especially not during Brunt’s funeral service.

Notes – Chapter Forty-Seven – Brightstone Mines – Necro Duel

After my rest in Brunt’s Revenge’s arms, I prepared my spells and we cleared the area of the keep. Only the mines lay ahead of us. Balor managed to open the complicated lock on its entrance, and we ventured into the darkness, Blackberry leading the way with his darkvision, Trosty following behind our group. I was still unsure about him. He no longer was under my direct control, but the enchantment I gave him should last at least three days. He seemed willing enough to be our rear-guard, but I decided not to press him. With any luck, we’d find enough riches in the mine to cover my coveted purchase of a phylactery that would allow me the power to command even him.
The entrance tunnel opened up into a large cavern. There appeared to be nothing there but columns of natural rock until Blackberry circled to the side and noticed several alabaster beauties standing behind them. We all surged forward, though no one attacked, as they let me pull out my skull and parlay with this new potential friends.
I held my skull aloft and called upon the power within me, but they did not stir an inch. Fascinating! Could these be some new, more powerful friends? But alas no, as I got closer, it was clear there was nothing special about them. This could only mean there was one well versed in the necromantic arts standing nearby, bolstering them.
Confirmation was achieved when the Mute Bard assaulted one of the skeletons and then an orc appeared and raised a holy symbol of his own. I could feel my control slipping away, but only over my alabaster friends. Blackberry and Brunt’s Revenge stood strong, showing their true loyalty to me.
Rolo, Simon, Edgar, and Twig now stood uncertain. They knew I was their friend, and yet this orc was now poised to command them. But I could not lose so many friends in one day! I already lost Brunt! I raised my skull aloft and tightened my control over them. They all quickly returned to my nest, though they still stood dazed for some time from the transition.
In the meanwhile, Blackberry and Brunt’s Revenge assaulted the orc. We soon had him surrounded. He was tough, but that did not change the fact that orc flesh is weak, and he was soon added to our list of provisions. His remaining skeletons still stood bolstered, so my research assistants dispatched them. It seemed like such a waste, but time was short, because we discovered another betrayal.

Notes – Chapter Forty-Eight – Makkal’s Image

We soon determined that Makkal’s flesh was gone, even as his image remained. He must have cast some sort of illusion magic. The last thing I remember him doing was running to the side of the cavern, near another tunnel, and shooting a crossbow bolt at the orc. Then he never moved from that spot. But I was too busy with the necromancer to notice much more.
We searched the other tunnels, and found the orc’s treasure in a chest by his living cave. It was all gems, which gave us hope that this mine was not completely depleted. We searched the tunnels for some time, and determined that there was still iron ore and gems to be mined, at least on this level. The way down into the deeper levels of the mines was through rope elevators, but the ropes and elevators were long gone. It will take us some time to fully explore the lower depths of the mine.
Willow said that Makkal’s tracks went down one of the tunnels and then ended. Either he teleported out or had some other means of traveling without leaving a trail. Whatever his agenda was, we still do not know. We may see him again.
We found the orc necromancer’s journal, which indicated he had grand plans to raise an undead army to take over the whole region. It was great reading. I didn’t quite understand why he would want to do it. It sounded very dangerous, and it sounded like he would lose a lot of alabaster friends if he carried his plans out. War is dangerous! How could he justify risking so many friends’ lives on something that seemed to have such dubious chances of success. Better to live in peace and prosperity, your alabaster friends all around you, safe and sound.
I did wonder how he was going to raise an entire army, one he could actually control. I will have to study his notes further, and we will have to explore this mine and see what secrets it hides.

Notes – Chapter Forty-Nine – Reg’s Reluctant Heroes

The keep and mines secure, we returned to town to collect our reward from Reg, the Paladin Sheriff. He did not seem pleased to see us. The town council was very pleased.
“I had you followed out of town,” he said. “I know who you travel with.” He then gave a huge sigh. “As much as I hate doing this, you have shown you are willing to put your lives on the line to help the community. We don’t have the forces to spare to man the keep, but we need it manned, so,” he paused, a pained look on his face. “Would you consider taking over the keep to help protect the area?”
The Marshall quickly agreed.
Reg responded, rolling his eyes as he did so, the town counsel pushing him forward. “Good to see ‘good’ adventurers such as yourself taking such responsibility for the good of our town.”
The town counsel leader behind him beamed and said, “Now that you will be the ones in charge of the keep, the area will return to good!” As he said his, Reg slapped his forehead and then, shaking his head, walked out of the chamber.
Before he left, Reg had expressed some concerns about how we could live there with all the animals gone, leaving minimal sources of food. I pointed out to Willow, though, that with the escape of the goblin slaves, there would be plenty of food to hunt, not to mention the orcs and goblins already curing.
Now we just need to figure out how we will man the keep. If only I could make alabaster friends of my own. I will have to visit my mentor in the woods. Unfortunately, I will need more coins, having spent them all (including the new ones found in the keep), because I’ve spent them all on my phylactery. On the positive side, now I have no problem controlling Trosty. Now where can I find some new friends?

 

[Altalazar]

Ok, I just have to ask - anyone who is reading this have any commentary about this, good or bad. I realize this is a rather, uh, non-traditional sort of adventuring party. (If you hadn't guessed, the alignments are either Neutral or Neutral Evil). But at the same time, they are still heroic, in a sense, at least in the jobs they take.

Or as I like to say about Vincent - "He's neutral evil, but not in a bad way."

It's more like he's evil by his attitude about undead, well, and perhaps his dietary choices, but otherwise he tries to be a decent fellow. Or maybe not...

Also, just an aside - Cordozo and Kamakawiwo will be resuming adventures shortly...