Dahl Ma’here (Darkness Within)
Journal entry 1
I begin this journal now as I feel my life has only begun.
Yes, I have committed all manner of atrocities in the past. Who would have thought I’d end up like this, a silhouette of my former master, the Necromancer Martell de’Baunch. After his destruction of our village and the inhumane way he treated me when I was a child, one would think that I would have turned the other way. I new I should have, but in my captivity and service, I developed a skill to the art. He new it also, that is why I believe he did not allow me to die. And after his demise it was all I had left. First it began as a dabble, then a taste, before I new it I was dependant on it. But it wasn’t he art that lured me into hatred and distaste for others. It was the people themselves. A necromancer has no place among civilians. They made sure I was driven away. Fools, it only fuels my ambition to become stronger and allow the hatred fester until a time when I will unleash my full wrath upon your pathetic souls. And now, after so many years, I find myself treading in my predecessors footsteps. I only hope I’m smarter than he, wiser and more discrete. Yes, discretion is the key.
Since that time fate has drawn me to others who follow the dark path, like a moth to an unholy flame. These are the Priestess Chanda and Marcus Perrin. It was a man named Nethro who claimed me as his catch. He was a pathetic individual who deserved his punishment from the Mad God, now my God, the Black Sun, Lord Corath. I have devoted all my time to the art and to his service. I feel myself changing with every foul ritual and dark blessing. I am getting colder and my body seems to be changing. Many months ago upon completing a Blood Sacrament I fell unconscience and woke two days after. The sacrifice has cost me my left arm. At first it began to turn purple as blood ceased to flow from my shoulder down. Then it began to rot. I remained inside to avoid the flies laying their lava on it, however, it wasn’t long till I saw the first cluster of maggots feasting on the dead flesh. That was an extreme test of my fortitude. To witness ones arm decomposing to parasites and the smell….oh how I remember that smell. I can’t remember how many times I threw up. It was agony, however once all flesh was striped from my bones I found that I still had use of the arm. Odd, but this was the process that had been prophesized and I accepted it. However the arm is serving as a useful tool for the necromantic arts. I am able to channel negative energy through it to paralyse certain creatures. The damn Giants and Ogres seem to be immune to the touch, however some humanoids have felt its icy chill.
I am excelling in most crafts. Together, Chanda, Marcus and I have developed the Arm of the Ram, a name which symbolises our Dark Lords taint. We have collected near 500,000 gold. Our ambition to use the gold to build a Temple on Mistone seems to be coming along quite well. I take glee at every sale. The fools don’t know that every gold spent is an extra brick for our malevolent Grace. Once we achieve this Temple we will then focus on attaining dominance in Mistone. Then we will attain dominance over Dregar and together with Arabel we shall be a force to combat the likes of Rofieren, Aeridin, Toran or any who oppose us. The Reign of the Dark Lord will be seen, his footsteps shall shake the foundations of the earth and his eye shall bring chaos and terror to all of Layonara. Sinthar will not have a chance.
Another stage of my past that concerns me is that the Drow have interest in me. Why? I simply don’t know. It was at a time whilst scouting the Silent Watch mountains with a band of mercenaries. We came across a mass of shadow warriors that attacked on sight. The group fled but my curiosity forced me to push forward and examine this new entity. Well, it led to my demise. However that was when a shade came to me and spoke. It promised my life restored if I was to perform an act for them. I agreed. So shortly after being revived I bluffed the group and led them all back into the forest. Into a trap. They were all mercilessly slain. Their souls were taken. The next stage of this journey led me to a meeting with the Drow Shadow council, a plane of darkness. Here they gave me a new challenge. In return I was to be rewarded. And rewarded I was.
By using an item of their foul magics and my own illusion of deception I infiltrated the abode of Veldrin, a great Drow warrior and husband to Lalaith Valesh. The meeting went well and I witnessed the power of the Drow as their magics polluted his body and transformed him once gain into a warrior of the underdark. Before he left to join his bretheren he forced an agreement on me. That I must speak to his wife and convey what had happened. In return he would give me her wedding band. A black ring that is needed to complete the Ritual of the Diadem. This ritual will give the Drow powers to successfully bring chaos and evil to the land. I agreed to aid them since they will be the focus of evil when chaos begins its reign on Layonara. This will give the Corathites space to conduct their own tactics. With luck the Drow will be slaughtered, but not after they inflict huge casualties on the land. I have no doubt that I am aiding a future enemy. That one day I myself will be in direct combat with the Drow. So if I can use the Drow against the so-called righeaous, I might be able to weaken both sides and swoop in for the kill.
Sinthar however will be the only contigent to ruin my plans. I must race to become powerful enough to meet his hordes. We must be strong enough to succeed against him. Otherwise all these plans are useless.
So I completed Veldrin’s task. I must say the kitten Lalaith has a nasty scratch. I am left with a scar across my neck. Lucky actually that she didn’t manage to go any deeper with that blade. But it was worth it to see her heart broken….pathetic elf.
The drow have rewarded me appropriately. The prize was a scroll of Wail of the Banshee. A gift that I feel is appropriate as there can be no price attached to knowledge. I am now waiting for Veldrin to appear with the ring. Once I return that I hope to attain more arcane knowledge from them. However, it worries me that they can share such powerful magics so easily. She refered to it as a Cantrip. I have much to learn it seems.
Journal entry 2
An interesting day it has been. I found Tamera, our new dark sister, in a peculiar circumstance within Shoufal. She, the druid Faile and the goblin Bilviki were in a struggle against the children of Grannoch. Apparently the children had chosen Tamera and Faile to be sacrifices to appease their Gods. With some effort I interviened and managed to free Tamera and replace her with Biliviki. The goblin is of no concequence nor is the druid. Anyway upon reaching Fort Velensk an earth servant appeared to us and produced a riddle. Something of a Black Hand. That this balck hand was on the move and it would be a race to find it. It also refered to us as the black hearts. I assume that connotation refers to us Corathites. I must look into this.
Journal entry 3
Well it is true. It has come to my knowledge that there is an artefact called the Black Hand. It is an item of immense negative power and was created by a Corath Dread Lord of old named Zarcksan. He almost conquered the world but was destroyed by Dwarves and Giants. Upon his demise they eventually had his hand buried in the High forest where it was to be guarded by the druids. Well it seems the druids have failed their duties and it is now unearthed. We do not know where it is or who have it. This I must make my number one priority. None deserve the hand more than servants of the Mad God.
Journal entry 4
I now have a new dilemma. An entity of great power has emerged to Layonara. He has appeared to me through magic and his servants. His name is Krentorithin. His symbol is a Jester. The man has an interest for me. I do not know why. I feel he wants my allegiance to him. He mentioned that all the Gods will perish under his power. That Corath will also be a target. He also told me some important news. That the Black Hand is on the move and is on a ship heading to Xantril. He both intrigues me and confuses me. I must think about this. All of a sudden there seems to be no time. I must leave to Xantril at once.
Journal entry 5
I was with a band of adventurers this day, looking for clues to the Black Hand. None seem to know what I do, though there are more clues to be found on Mistone that convey the artefacts history. One thing that has been irritating me is Eldarwen’s relationship with me. Why on earth does she seek my friendship? Why aid me? Chanda does not trust her and neither should I, thought it has proved to be useful to have her on my side. Perhaps she thinks I’m on her side?
Journal entry 6
I have the Black Hand. One would think I should be rejoicing however it is having the opposite effect. The hand has laid new troubles to mind. Before the quest I was painfully greeted by one of Krentorithin’s servants. The man gutted me to near death within Scamps Mug. As I lay on the floor trying to hold my intestines within he gave me an important word. He told me the hand must be destroyed, and that if the Lucinite Eldarwen tries to thwart me doing so, she will be assassinated, together with all who travel with her. I do not deny his power. He also mentioned that the Hand cannot be used, that it is hindering his advancement to Layonara and that if Zarcksan is united with the hand he will be a power that will consume our Dark Lord.
I must make sure this does not happen.
So our adventure lead us to the unholy Grace’s temple in Arabel. The Hand was in his possession and the decention within the temple ranks lead to a great battle. After the battle part of our group fled outside the temple for another matter. My pupil Agustus and I stayed with and probed further. I managed to unlock the necromantic wards that lead to Zarcksans chamber. There I confronted the great man…now a lich. We spoke briefly together and in many ways we were alike. He also sensed it, since he could see through me and into my mind. But at that point I knew this man must be destroyed. That his interest was not in the same interests of our Dark Lord. And battle ensued.
Now there is something I can live to described that makes all my past injuries look like a paper cut. With bad targeting, Eldarwen cast an implosion which consumed both Zarcksan and myself. Imagine your whole body being crushed and compacted within an instance. Bones breaking in thousands of pieces, organs pressed like mahogany scrolls, and flesh pushed in from all angles. It was the most excruciating pain I have felt in my life. Even though it only lasted an instant it seemed to go for eternity. However I was raised and we managed to take the Hand. It seemed that I was the best choice to carry it so that is how it remained. I must study this artefact.
Journal entry 7
Again Eldarwen pushes her friendship on me. We had a long chat today and she disclosed much of her history and her plans for the future. I believed some, and took the rest as face value. One thing that I find interesting is the way she is handling the Grey Circle and others who would love to witness my demise. She is protecting me indirectly. I do not know why though I don’t really care. Still I have my suspicions. Time will tell.
She also mentioned to me that during the battle in Arabel a black dagger, coated with poison targeted her. It hit Ozy instead. The dagger had a picture of the Jester upon its hilt. I suspect Dirk Driss was the assailant. She will never find him, though I shed some insight and warned her not to interfere.
Journal entry 8
Something is happening to me. Ever since I was revived within the Temple and have had this artefact in my possession I have been feeling unwell. I have been having mood swings, and my eyes are becoming increasingly sensitive to light. Also I have noticed wounds are taking longer to heal.
Also I am having violent nightmares. The Hand has strangling me or is tearing my heart out. Each time I awake in a cold sweat and check the box where I keep the Hand. It is always within and the wards remain in-tact. It is becoming a burden.
Journal entry 9
I now understand why the Hand must be destroyed. Dirk Driss contacted me within the shadows of Karthy. The man I truly believe is not entirely human. He killed a human with lightning precision, dissected the being like a surgeon and took some of the organs. Later he feasted on a Heart. He cannot be human.
We had a long discussion. Apparently Ozy will be in grave danger. Not that I really care. But it was interesting to discover what will happen to him. The poison from the dagger will consume him. He will then fall into a sort of comatose state. What then happens I found amazing. Krenorithin uses these bodies to fuel great power into his servants. That is why Dirk Driss is so powerful. The prey must contain power of their own to be any use. I feel then Ozy was a good target. Eldarwen will be a better one. I wonder if she will suffer the same fate.
Anyway Dirk showed me why the hand must be destroyed. It required my death and a journey through a city of the dead to discover why. That is where I met the essence of Zarcksan and new that while the hand is around, he is still a very much alive and a deadly threat.
Anyway I had to make a Soul Oath to Krentorithin that I am bound. It is better I do not write anything further in case this journal happens to get into the wrong hands….
