The Journal of Brac'ar Fireface, dwarven wizard, tailor and scribe

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 1
Locked up with Rev and Gotak inside a tower somewhere in broken Forest with little hope of getting out alive, Brac’ar decides this is as good at time as any to start his journal. That way, if his corpse is ever found here, people might get an idea of his exploits and perhaps even bring the journal to his parents in Shoufal.
Sitting himself down before the fireplace, wondering who lighted it in the first place, he takes out some of his still empty scrolls and starts to write.
A couple of weeks ago something strange happened. But the way things are going here; people will soon start considering these things normal...
Anyway, a goblin ran into Hlint, shouting it needed help because its clan was being kidnapped by 'Big Beasties’. The Goblin was from the Redlight Goblin clan, just outside of Hlint. I and my companions went to investigate and just when we got there, we were beset by fire giants! We managed to defeat them so they could not take the last group of goblins still there.
We followed the tracks they had made in order to see if we could save the rest of the clan and ended up at Ogre’s Rest and we immediately felt an evil presence. I scouted ahead being invisible and when I wanted to cross a small hill I saw him.

Fisterion, the Ancient Red Dragon

I didn’t know how fast to move back. I told my companions and we decided to eavesdrop from behind the hill. Fisterion was talking to the fire giant leader, who had to kidnap them goblins in order to keep 'the pesky adventurers from Hlint’ occupied while Fisterion acquired an ancient artifact. After that he flew off and left his 'right Claw’ a small red wyrmling called Flare, in charge of the giants and of getting the artifact.
We decided to charge the giants, capture Flare and make him tell where the artifact was. The first part succeeded, we defeated the giants, but Flare got away, his flight protected by a group of Orogs. Of course we did manage to free the goblins, but not without some losses on our side. Luckily, the fallen ones were restored to us.

We got back to Hlint to claim our reward for rescuing them goblins then pressed on to Melnon since we had spotted Orogs near a cave there before and figured this might be where Flare went.
We went into the cave and were attacked by scores of fire elementals of all shapes and sizes. What a sight they were! If only I could control one myself one day, that would indeed be mastery of fire!
We fought our way to the bottom of the cave, where we found Flare, digging around in some rock pile. We figured this was the resting place of the artifact (and we turned out to be right). However, Flare was under some powerful protection, as we could not touch him. Luckily Gotak had the idea of dousing the braziers Flare was in the process of setting up, I suspect that if he had succeeded in getting them all up he would have escaped with the artifact. Now he just fled, without the artifact which was picked up by Wilson, leaving magma golems in his wake. This was even a grander fight! They kept on coming until we managed to douse the last of the braziers. Then Fisterion's voice echoed through the cave shouting we would all perish in there.

Lava started boiling up from the floor and we ran to the exit. We barely made it out alive!
Now we could finally take our time studying the artifact. Wilson was reluctant in handing it over to me for study, he appear to be obsessed by it! I sensed it was an ancient amulet of Cold Resistance, one whose powers would be greatly enhanced if it was worn by a dragon. Obviously, none of us could keep it, that would be a certain death sentence, Fisterion would only have to wait until that person was alone, swoop from the sky and take it and then one of his weaknesses would be completely negated. We could not allow that to happen.

So I had to destroy the amulet using Fire. Wilson was getting extremely agitated and kept shouting he wanted it back, that he needed it... I turned invisible and ran away so he could not follow me and I could destroy the Amulet.

Casting my fiery magic at the amulet, from a safe distance of course, I managed to blow it up. An immense explosion of Ice and Fire ensued, luckily nobody was hurt. In the middle of this onslaught a Protector Fire Elemental appeared, which was probably what gave the amulet its power. We managed to defeat this one as well, what a mighty foe that was! I wish I some day will have the strength to command these creatures of Flame...Â
*He puts down his quill and stares into the flames for a while*
Anyway, Wilson had lost his obsession after the artifact was destroyed. I am still not clear if he was under the sway of the amulet itself, or if Fisterion was somehow influencing him in order to be able to take the amulet from Wilson after he was alone. I guess we’ll never know, but I am happy that he turned back to the way he was.

I am still wondering if I made a good choice in destroying it, since this must have seriously foiled Fisterion’s plans. I was continuously looking at the sky for days to see if he didn’t sweep down from the sky and burn me on the spot as revenge.

Not that that matters now that I am locked inside this tower. We’ll probably starve in here... *He chuckles as he writes the last sentence* At least there is this fire to keep us company.


//this all took place in November 2003, but the previous journal is not on these forums anymore so posting it again

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 2
A day passes, without them having found a way out of the tower, kindling the fire some more, Brac’ar continues his journal.
I feel I should commit this to paper as well, else valuable information may be gone should I encounter some unpleasant faith... like Fisterion getting his revenge for the destruction of that amulet. Anyway, weeks and weeks ago, even before the artifact incident, there were some troubles with caravans going to and from Fort Velensk in the south, and I joined a party to accompany and protect one of the latest caravans.
During the journey, we were beset by numerous enemies, fortunately, we were able to defeat them all. The caravan cart that we were supposed to protect was destroyed during the journey, but we managed to carry all the cargo to its destination at Fort Velensk. After this ordeal, we decided to stay in Fort Velensk a while before heading back to Hlint. One morning, I was up rather early, my other companions were still fast asleep, I decided to enjoy the dawn and approached by the captain of the Guards at Fort Velensk. He had sent out a spy, Shael, to follow the iron golems which had appeared outside of the North Gates of the Fort during the night. However, she had not returned yet.
So I went out to follow one of the Iron Golems under cover of my invisibility spells to see where the trail led. I admit, I am no ranger, but I can tell the tracks of some Iron Golems from those of normal tracks. The tracks led up to the Gnoll Watch Tower, where I heard a terrifying scream when I entered the area. Without further thought, I charged through the palisade, past some Golems and some kind of floating armors, hoping I would not be too late.
I was stopped by a spellcaster, who told me in a matter-of-fact way that I was to late. Shael had been killed. He then tried to kill me to using his foul magics but fortunately for me, my magic defenses held. I tried to set him aflame, however, to no avail; he just laughed and called in the Golems and the floating armors.

I ran.

However, the armors came after me and managed to strike me down while I was just preparing to shoot the flare the Captain had given me to call in reinforcements. (Note to self: next time don’t be so stubborn and use it when you’re outnumbered by golems four to one). The flare went off just when one of them armors struck the killing blow... The reinforcements arrived before the floating armors and the golems could have cut my body to pieces and they managed to raise me. They decided to clear the Tower, while I returned to Fort Velensk to report of my... failure.

*He sighs as he writes down the last word and thinks back of his time in his hometown. He stares into the flames some more “Shoufal, Shoufal, jewel in the crown of Berhagen... I wish...” but before he can continue he gets interrupted by Gotak bashing some shadows who try to enter the barricaded room. Dipping his quill in some ink again Brac'ar continues*
By the time my companions had woken up, the reinforcements had not returned. Finally, one of the, badly wounded and his tongue cut out, managed to find his way back to the gates. He was the only survivor it seemed. He indicated by writing that an army of Golems was being constructed.

Of course the ones responsible had to be found. It turned out that the bandits had made a huge camp northeast of Fort Velensk, near the pass to Shoufal of all places! The plan was that Reggub and Gotak would sneak into the camp and blow up the catapults defending it, allowing us to charge. This almost worked, they managed to destroy the catapults, but also set off the alarm. We charged anyway. A fierce battle ensued, one of the largest I have ever seen, several of my companions fell, but in the end we prevailed and even managed to kill their leader. However, during the battle, we saw a female drow escape from the leader’s tent and we were not able to stop her...

ÂWe went off north towards the Gnoll Tower to investigate and were attacked along the way by numerous Golems and other constructs. After going through a cavernous tunnel we ended up in the Blood Desert where the number of golems was even bigger. We fought and we battled, against golems and spellcasters and in the end we Âwere afced with two options. Retreat or die. Gotak had fallen, most of use were the worse for wear and could barely manage to hold our weapons. My spell reserves were completely depleted.

ÂWe retreated.

ÂLater I heard that some organization called the Dark Defense was all behind it probably an organization backed up or sponsored by the drow. They managed to tunnel into Port Hampshire, but luckily some other party managed to stop them from entering the city.
At least at that moment. Some weeks later, me and some companions were in Port Hampshire and were approached by somebody named Piwiel. We were supposed to go to the docks, pretending that some ship carrying important weapons was coming in. This in order to lure out those who were probably in league with the Dark Defense. However, while we were waiting and waiting, nobody came. I ran back to Piwiel who turned out to be murdered. By scorpion poison it turned out. After careful searching we found another secret tunnel leading into Underdark. It turned out that the drow had dug two tunnels!

ÂFighting our way deeper and deeper into Underdark, we finally came upon a large cavern filled with scorpions. Battle raged. In the end the only ones of our company who were still standing, albeit barely, were Reventage, myself and some hooded man. If a man he was. When he was running off into a tunnel somehow several giant scorpions appeared to cover his retreat. There is no way they could have walked through the tunnels to the cavern, so how they got there is still a mystery. With our last strength we managed to defeat them and then a booming voice echoed through the cave “You may have won this battle, but the Scorpions will return.”

ÂReventage managed to raise the fallen and we returned to the surface. I did not hear of the Dark Defense again, but I cannot shae the feeling that they have been totally annihilated with that 'man’ still loose... A couple of hours later, another party came upon the tower, among them Nathan Birche and Quintayne Rosewyne, arrived at the tower and together they managed to get out.

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 3
Shaken, Brac'ar enters his inn room. After staring into the flames of his fireplace for a while he composes himself and takes out his almost forgotten journal.
Had the scare of my life today...
My good friend Xiao LinÂand I were on our way to Sielwood when we saw a halfling woman going into the woods as well. She was attacked by Grizzlies but we managed to save her. It turned out she was from Rambleshackle, some unheard of village near Far Reach somewhere, which had run out of grain after their fields had been ravaged by some creature. So she was on her way to Hlint to buy more grain.
ÂXiao and I offered to accompany her and see what kind of creature was responsible. We met up with Kirianna and Gotak and set out, after the little halfling had bought some grain from Perum. She whispered something to Perum about the field being scorched, something which she had witheld from us... This roused my suspicion, since she hadn’t told us this before.
ÂOn the road, we encountered a small red wyrm. However, before we could vanquish it, it magically disappeared after the halfling told it to be gone. This increased my suspicion even further, why would these small wyrms obey her command?ÂDuring our tripÂI continued to question her about the fields and she admitted they’d been scorched. Probably by the people from the village who tried to scare of the wolves... Wolves that nobody had seen of course, and which she only had suspicions about.
ÂWhen we were near Fort Llast she told us she knew a shortcut and led us north into the swamp where we were attacked by more of them small red wyrmlings, which we easily defeated. However, something was not right. All signs pointed to a great dragon being in that area very recently. So we confronted her and she suddenly vanished!! Then Xiao heard something from above... A giant red dragon was hovering in the air above us!
ÂIndeed, it was Fisterion.
ÂStill alive, still menacing and toying with us. I am sure he could have killed us on the spot, had he wanted too, I am not sure if he recognized me as the one that destroyed that ancient amulet of cold resistance he was after a couple of months back. He must have recognized me, but perhaps he’s saving me for some gruesome fate later.
ÂAnyway, all he wanted was give us a warning: He was still there, and we’d see more of him soon...
I do not doubt Fisterion's words.

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 4 I find my tailoring skills increasing by the day. I have gone into a partnership with Xiao and we're now producing lion bags, of course Xiao's a far better tailor then I'll ever be, but then again, I have also picked up the art of scribing. Took me a while to not get the scrolls scorched when scribing fire spells, but I think I've got it under control now.
*chuckles as he points a finger to the lantern at his desk and launches a tiny fireball at it, thus lighting it*
Anyway, my scribing is also progressing nicely, who knows I may even start to earn a living from it and eventually buy a tower in ....
*sighing at what he's about to write down he closes his journal and stares into the night for a while. Shaking his head, he continues.*
Anyway, a couple of weeks ago something strange happened as well. I encountered a dragon who called me "Descendant of Flame" when I told him I was just my parent's son, he told me "Exactly" and flew off. Not sure what, if anything, it means though.
(around January 2004 more or less)

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 5
*exhausted, Brac'ar enters his room at the Wild Surge and collapses on his bed. A couple of hours later, he wakes up and starts writing in his journal*
Well, today has been yet another eventful day. Some woman asked Gotak, Rufus and myself to babysit her kid while she went to the market, when all of a sudden harpies swept down from above, kidnapping the girl.
We followed them to the Broken Swamp, where a pixie halted us saying something bad was afoot, as if we hadn't figured that out already. All the pixie's sisters had been trapped, and even from afar I could feel the emanations of some kind of rift.
It turned out the rift was leading to some other plane and that malicious creatures, the harpies among them,Âused it to enter the world. We went ahead to investigate and fought our way through scores of creatures, until we arrived at the portal. However, in front of the portal was the stuff of legends, a bebilith. A foul spider-like demon that hunts other demons and eats them. It took quick care of Rufus, Gotak and I retreated and after coming up with a plan we managed to vanquish it.
*Brac'ar looks up from writing as he remembers one of the toughest fights in his life and takes a long sip from his canteen*
As there was nothing we couldÂdo for Rufus, we pressed on and tried to close the rift, but it was too much magic for a single mage to handle.
*He chuckles when he thinks of Gotak trying to slash it apart with his axe.*
Then we noticed tiny shapes hidden within the webs the bebilith had spun, it turned out to be the trapped pixies! We freed them and working together, they managed to close the rift. Using their powers, they also managed to bring Rufus back to life. Unfortunately for him, there was not much they could do to the horrid scar on his arm, he'll probably bear it for the rest of his life.
With the rift closed, we could move north again and located the girl, tied up by the harpies on a piece of rock. We managed to dispose of all of the harpies and re-unite the girl with her mother in Hlint.
I swear, that'll be the last babysitting I do for a long time!

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 6
this page of Brac'ar's journal is very scorched at the edges, more so than the other pages*
It has now been two weeks since Plenarius walked up to me while I was scribingÂand asked "Did you hear about Gotak?". I could hear from the sound of his voice that something was wrong... very wrong.
My friend, Gotak Gungur, is no more.
Torn from this plane by foul magic when battling slaad, he died in battle, and I hope heÂnow has joined Vorax in his Hall of Warriors. Never again will we explore forgotten dungeons. NeverÂagain will he rush into battle in front of me, chasing one of my fireballs, and jumping into the fray while our enemies were still writhing in flame.ÂNever again will he disarm traps the Gotak way. Never again will we talk of our travels in the comforts of an inn. Never again can I whack him in the head with my staff if he tried to solve some magic mystery with his axe.
I still half expect him to be beside me if I turn my head, it will take getting used to not having him there.
Goodbye old friend, you will be missed, but not forgotten.

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 7
The last couple of weeks, I joined several memebers of the High Council in their search for a lost library somewhere in the Berhagen mountains. It was a long and harsh trek, and we were beset by numerous monsters along the way.
Eventually, we arrived at the foothills of the Berhagen Mountains, and I knew that something I could not avoid was about to happen... I'd see my home town again. I told my fellow travellers I'd be entering the city invisible, but without telling them why. I simply cannot afford to be seen by some of my old friends, or even my parents.... The shame would be unbearable. Although I had wanted otherwise, I stayed in town for as short as I could, barely taking time to get a view of the Temple of Dorand and utter a short prayer towards it. I did not dare go close toÂmy dad's smithy... We left town soon and continued our search, to end up in front of a collapsed passage which Ozy claimed to be the entrance to the lost library. There was no way we could continue so we eventually returned to Hlint. Putting down his quill, Brac'ar stares out of the window, whispering:
"Ah, Shoufal, Gem in the crown of Berhagen, how I would like to be able to walk your streets again unashamed."

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 8
Well, I've spent enough time in Kheldell library for now, there's hardly not a book left on magic that I haven't read there in the past couple of months I was there. They gave me an ultimatum, leave or become a librarian! Anyway, I never managed to find that secret compartment Ozymandias told me about, even though I did search quite thoroughly. I'll be sure to take his next claim with a grain of salt. As for the library itself,Âit hardly compares to the one atÂthe Academy of Magic in Port Hampshire, but one's got to make do. I doubt they'd have given me unlimited access.
However, I did manage to pick up a nifty new spell during my time in Kheldell. ItÂallows me to summon a floating armor that wields a flaming sword. The sword's practically bigger than me!
I have called the armor Svevarr, I may not be able to forge armors and swords, but at least now I can summon one. I also managed to extend my control of Fire magic, I can now hurl fireballs which do not immediately explode on impact but wait with exploding until somebody comes close to it. I'll have to see if this is of practical use though.

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 9
Brac'ar returns to the Wild Surge and sits behind the desk in his room. He takes off his helmet and then reverently removes a book from his pack. Dwarven runes are written on the cover of the book: "Silverhammer, Master Smith", they read. Looking at it for several minutes, he places it on the desk in front of him.
With a smile on his face, he takes out his journal from one of the desk's drawers, lights a candle and starts to write.
Today, I have returned from a week's long trek across the continent of Dregar, seeking to aid a master smith. This was not ordinary smith; it was the near-legendary Master Silverhammer, one of the greatest smiths ever to be born on Layonara, at least, if I am to believe my father.
We met him in Point Harbor, and he told me and my companions that he had returned from some insane subterranean system, called theÂGreat Rift,Ânorthern Dregar. Master Silverhammer and his party had ventured there in search of the famous cobalt ore so he could craft his greatest armor ever before joining Dorand at the Great Forge. His party bravely went into the caverns, andÂthey faced many dangers, drow and beholders, undead and mindflayers. One by one, Silverhammer's companions fell, andÂin the end, severely wounded to the leg, only he made it out, with the ore.
However, in order to forge the armor, he would require an ancient dwarven tome of strength, located deep within the crypt where clan Silverhammer buried its dead. While the wound to his leg had healed, it had not healed properly as he was now walking with a limp; hence he required our aid to retrieve the tome from the tomb of his ancestors. He offered to pay us handsomely for our service, but accepting money from the Master Smith did not feel right. I asked for a private word, thinking he might write a letter to my father after I had helped him, but before I even could utter my request, he already started speaking.
"This is about your father, right?" he said. I could only nod. "Well, give him this the next time you see him." and he gave me a book. His smith's book describing in fine detail all the ins and outs of his craft, how he forged all those countless masterpieces. In short, the tools of a Master Smith's trade. I could not utter more than a bare: "Thank you, Master Smith." I think. He'd given me the book even before we had completed his task.
Brac'ar puts down his quill and looks at Silverhammer's book and smiles again. Taking a sip of water, he continues to write. We set out to Dregar, and traveled far and wide, as we had to locate two gems in order to be able to retrieve the tome from the crypts. We got a fire opal from the Forest of Mists and got a sapphire like gem from a gorgon herder in the Storm Horn Mountains. Then we set out to find the crypt in the Dark Forest on Dregar's eastern edge. Finally, we found it and battled our way though mummies and skeletons. Guided by the spirits of the fallen of Clan Silverhammer, we finally arrived at the location where the tome is kept. Using the gems the way Master Silverhammer had told us, we retrieved the tome and returned to present it to him.
Using it he started working on the armor, what a grand sight that was! Using his hammer, forge and fire he bent the metal to his will, putting his entire soul into his last and final work, he forged an exquisite armor.
And when it was completed, and he looked in satisfaction at what he had forged, he collapsed. Dead.
His spirit appeared shortly thereafter, to bid us a fond farewell and then it slowly disappeared, no doubt to join Dorand and the Great Forge. Brac'ar sighs as he thinks back to this moment, the look accomplishment of a life's work on the face of the Master Smith.
And now, I have returned to Hlint with the Master Smith's book, which I hope to present to my father some day. I may not have become a smith, but I did aid one of the greatest who ever lived, that's got to mean something to him! Closing the journal, Brac'ar carefully wraps the smith's book in a piece of cloth and then returns it to his pack. "Not ever letting this out of my sight." he chuckles. He puts on his hood, takes his pack and goes downstairsÂto have a well-deserved dinner.

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 10
Brac'ar sits on the edge of his bed, looking at a blue gem that glitters somewhat and is slightly warm at the touch he places it on the desk and takes out his journal. "In case anything ever happens to me and I am lost, you might be able to use this to track me down. Not that I'm planning on getting lost, mind you." That's what she said when she gave me the gem that lies in front of me now. It is some kind of magical stone, attuned toÂher soul, possible even containing some part of it. I think that's the first time somebody has ever entrusted a piece of somebody's soul to me. I also think that's one of the few times that I actually heard her say 'you' instead of 'ye'. He chuckles. I will not lose this stone, Reventage D'vinn,Âand I hope that I'll never need it to come get you from wherever you got yourself lost in.
Laughing at the last remark he wrote, he closes his journal, takes Rev'sÂsoulstone from the desk, he puts it in one of his robes many pockets and goes down to have dinner in the common room.

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 11
Brac’ar walks into an inn in Shoufal, gets a room, goes up and takes out his journal. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Today, while I was walking around in Karthy, I was bothered by some cold mist which seemed to be following me. To my surprise, Master Silverhammer stepped out of the mist, asking me why I was taking to long to go back to Shoufal and return to my parents with the journal he had given me. I might not be a dwarf with axe or hammer, but I was still a dwarf, and not a pansy, so [/i]<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">“Face it and be a dwarf”, he said. He was right of course, I had only been making up excuses to not go back, going to this library then that one in order to increase my knowledge, but never going home.[/i]
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">So I set out, back to the town of my birth, the town of my shame, the town of my family: Shoufal, Gem of Berhagen. [/i]<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">After an uneventful trek I found myself in front of its gates and after asking some of the locals, it turned out my parent’s smithy was still in the same spot. [/i]<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">So in I went. [/i]<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">My father was still upset about me leaving without word, and not becoming a smith, but my mother was happy to see me.[/i]
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">I presented the Master Silverhammer’s journal to my dad, and he left to go read it, telling me he did not forgive me yet. I was very disappointed, but mother did point out that he hadn’t even finished the platemail he was working on, so I still have hope he’ll come around. [/i]<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">I chatted with my mother a bit about what I had been doing since I left, I could hear my father laugh and shout out in “So that’s how ye do it!!!” Âa couple of times as he was reading the journal, so I guess he’ll turn around. [/i]<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">After chatting nearly all night with Mom, I left, but am sure I will return soon. [/i]Leaving his helmet on the table in his room, Bra’ar goes down into the common room, ordering a meal.

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 12
I have visited my parents again, this time with my friends, Plenarius and Reventage. While travelling to Shoufal with them, I told them my story. About the accident, the desctruction of the smithy, and ultimately, my face.
The left half of his face grimaces as he writes.
They weren't in total shock, which, in retrospect, shouldn't have been that surprising. I guess I could've shown them the 'real' me long ago, as it truly doesn't make a difference.
Anyway, we went to my parents. Mother was pleased and gave me one of her bear hugs. Chuckles as he thinks of those hugs. But dad didn't appreciate me bringing a human and an elf with me. He locked himself in his room and continued to study Master Silverhammer's book. Suddenly, the ground shook and he shouted. We stormed into the room to find dad unconsious next to a large hole in the floor. It turned out some creature had burrowed its way in and stole my dad's hammer as well as Silverhammer's journal. We jumped into the hole to give chase... And found ourselves in a very damp and wet cave system underneath Shoufal. I couldn't even get my fire spells to work. We pressed on, beset by the frog-like kuo-toa's of various shapes and sizes. We even had to swim though a tunnel, which caused Rev to nearly drown. Then we came to a dead-end, without having found the hammer or the journal. I was almost despairing. Suddenly I felt energies gather and a gate opened. It was unbelievable but my old teacher, Garrim the hedgewizard, appeared. I thought he was dead as the last time I went to visit his cottage, there was nothing left but ashes. When I told him so he started laughing and told me to use my wits as he had just stepped from a gate... Brac shakes his head as he remembers "Must have been all that water fogging my brain." If my teacher came through a gate, he must have come from another plane... Prankster as he was, he first tried to pose as a balor, but then assumed his original shape... That of a dwarf from the plane of fire. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Then, as teachers go, he taught me how to first focus my magic into my staff before releasing it at the last moment, bypassing the wetness which prevented my fire magic to work. I didn't believe him at first, but of course he was right. Blasting my way through the dead end cavern we were able to continue downwards, where ultimately we came up a gigantic purple worm. After we disposed of it we found my dad's hammer and Silverhammer's journal in its lair. Just as I was wondering what a purple worm needed a hammer and a smith's journal for the ethereal shape of Master Silverhammer appeared, laughing boisterously. Brac shakes his head "Dwarven humor..." It turned out that Silverhammer had taken the hammer and the journal so I could prove to my dad that even though I was no dwarven smith or fighter I did have what it takes to be a dwarf. The Kuo-toa would have breached the surface sooner or later anyway, so Silverhammer thought it good to go down into their lair now while they were not at full strength yet. To make a long story short, we returned to my folks and I returned the hammer and the journal to my dad. He finally forgave me for destroying his smithy and runningÂawayÂall those years ago. I briefly contemplated to take on my old clan name again and call myself Brac'ar Kilring from now on, but decided against it. My face made and makes me who I am, so Brac'ar Fireface I'll remain, although I won't hesitate to introduce myself as Brac'ar 'Fireface' Kilring if that is needed.
Closing his journal contently, Brac'ar takes up an arcane scroll he recently acquired and starts to study it, making notes as he goes...

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 13
I partook in yet another fascinating series of events, I am not entirely sure of what went on before or what happened afterwards, but I will recount my experiences. Apparently, there is some beast on the lose, a beast that is part fiend and part celestial. I do not know how such a creature came to be, but it was made clear to me that it intends to destroy Katia.
Â
Shakes his head “Poor Katia seems to be under a lot of stress lately it seems.” He then continues to write.
To destroy this beast, a Scion of Binding needed to be made, and we need two rings, a piece of basalt from a statue of Pyrtechon, and the Chasuble of Rofirein. Apparently, the Chasuble is the only thing that is lacking. We went to the Citadel of Rofirein in Pranzis to learn more and encountered an old man. He told us the following: “Rofirein was rumored to walk the world, sometimes favoring human form, as he was quite fond of it. When he walked as human, Âa shimmering garment of white rested on his shoulders. In one of these roamings the chasuble was created, tears of the dragon god on a village of the dead. They flowed across the land, cleansing it of the vile murders committed by the ancient enemy. Freeing souls to peace and justice. And where his tears fell on the vestment it became changed. Some would say infused with his compassion, some would say with his grief. Most would just agree with a portion of his essence. |Rofirein, not being a stupid dragon realized that in his empathy he had given a great deal. A great deal to the people as well as to the garment itself. He gifted it to the High Priest of the time. However, good is always at risk to harm. So, while He gave the chasuble to the high priest intending good, it was not to be, it's powers caused far more harm. It was placed into the hand of the enemy who then used it to cause much grief and destruction. The church rallied and fought to retrieve the sacred artifact. Over time and constant battles that cost many lives, the armies of Rofireins faithful retieved the chasuble. It was then that the god himself decided it was too dangerous. Far too dangerous for mortal hands. He took it from his church and with a few selected for utmost loyalty and devotion spirited it away. A citadel was constructed deep within the lands where people rarely trod, and warded it carefully from prying eyes. Great spells went to ward the entrance. It was sealed behind strength, love and loyalty and those who were chosen happily gave short lives of their own for long lives of service. Guardians took the vow of the ageless, a swearing of eternal vigilance. The guardians who hold this vestment are reputed to have taken this vow, to hold it safe as there other for all time. Ageless to duty, death in defiance.”
After some prodding and questioning, it turned out that this old man had almost become one of the Ageless as they needed a replacement. However, he did not pass the test to become one and left before taking the Vow. He took with him an exquisitely carved crystal dragon which should reveal the entrance to this lost Citadel as well as grant entrance. So we set out to find it. After a bit more than a week of travel we came to the region it was supposed to be, as we searched suddenly an entrance appeared, a large gate filled with carvings of dragons in various postures. One of the carvings at the top was a fake one and a 'human’ pyramid of Arestes in minotaur shape, Remial, Reventage and some dwarven support from Kobal and Hargranar was able to reach the top of the gate where the fake was.
He puts down his quill for a minute to laugh as he recalls Rev falling down from the pyramid on her behind.
Rev managed to pry out the fake and replace it with the genuine and and the gates opened. Inside, we encountered many monks who immediately attacked. Unfortunately, they were not to be reasoned with. We made our way through the halls and came upon a library. I soon found the journal of the Ageless’ headmaster and started to read: "And to the most loyal, I among them, the great lord handed down the duty of guardianship. His form blazed with holy light as he passed on the most sacred relic to be held in secret for all time. As I accepted, his deep resonant voice insinuated into my thoughts, and he made me aware of the vow my brothers must take to ensure the constancy of duty.
The Vow of the Ageless I call it, the path of vigilance eternal. With that he passed frm my sight imparting only knowledge of where to build our most holy bastion. We gathered, a small group of twenty, the original of us and headed to the mountains where our lord commanded we take the artifact. And so we did being construction, ageless we strive, perfection of duty and craft became our vigilance. Stone by stone it rose to challenge even the sky with its majesty. Over time we finished. The gate became our one true vanity. We depicted our lord in every guise, in every turn of his glory and power. The gate alone was worth an eternity. Great spells were cast, light and time were bent to shield us from the outside lands and only those with a portion of our vanity could pass.”
Browsing to the end of the journal it mentioned that they’d lost a member to demon wanderings, and had contacted and agent for replacement. This replacement was probably the old man we met before.
As I read on I read about the most important room in this ancie