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… 
  *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…

   We 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  were 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.

   We retreated.

   Later 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!

   Fighting 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.”

   Reventage 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 Lin and 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.
   Xiao 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.
   On 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? During our trip I 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.
   When 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!
   Indeed, it was Fisterion.
   Still 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.
   Anyway, 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, used 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 could do 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 scribing and 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 he now has joined Vorax in his Hall of Warriors. Never again will we explore forgotten dungeons. Never again 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. Never 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 to my 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, it hardly compares to the one at the 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. It allows 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 the Great Rift, northern 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, and they faced many dangers, drow and beholders, undead and mindflayers. One by one, Silverhammer's companions fell, and in 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 downstairs to 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 to her 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, and 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's soulstone 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.  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]“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]
  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]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]So in I went.   [/i]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 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 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!!!”  a couple of times as he was reading the journal, so I guess he’ll turn around.  [/i]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 running away all 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.
 
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,  a 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 ancient Citadel, the Bastion of the Faith:  “The bastion of faith is carved on a level of tiers, one for stewardsship, being the upper.  One for duty, holding the reason we live and one for duty to the dead, to honour a guardian who served, now we in turn serve. The second tier for our duties purpose, the relic hold in sacred trust no never see outer lands again.  The third tier enshrined in immortal grace one who served whom we now serve. The bastion of Torans first beloved of both our lord and the god of guardians.”  When I read that last fascinating line I thought “Surely, Navarre, Toran’s first Paladin cannot be buried here… Can he?”  I then noticed that my companions had already left the library a while ago and had pressed on. When I finally caught up with them they had already reached the Bastion, of course, somewhat oblivious to what it was, except that that shaft of light surrounded by walls of moving blades must be important. Kobal and Hargranar tried to put a table onto the blades to be able to pass, but of course it was shred to pieces in the blink of an eye.  It was here that we also found a tablet with the Vow on it:  "I shall serve loyally for all days, time to darkness, time beyond time. The chasuble my only care and my lords duty my only want. I shall guard its location and its sanctity with my life, time immortal, time without end. This I vow."  Rev was the first one to read it out loud but was smart enough to leave out those last three words. Remiel however, took the Vow and was then able to pass the blades unharmed and stepped into the light.  About an hour later he returned, turned back by a mithril golem he could not pass, so he needed aid. Kobal and Harg were quick to also take the Vow, but I was not so hasty. I had no desire to spent the rest of eternity guarding an artifact, no matter how holy it was. However, every Vow has cracks, so considering the Vow did not say the Chasuble had to remain in this Citadel, and the fact that the Chasuble would be used for good I suspected it wouldn’t bind me for all eternity.  So I took it and stepped through the blades into the light… and found myself in a small valley. After we defeated the golem we came upon a group of large dragon statues with a large white structure behind them. As well as a small group of monks, who did not attack outright as those inside the Citadel had done.  The head monk spoke of a hooded man who came to them forty years ago, a man who called himself a prophet. He told the order that the time of the Ageless was coming to an end. He did not seek what they guarded, he sought nothing, his heart was empty of desire. So they spoke to him. He told them of the man who would betray them, and of our coming. Of why we needed the Chasuble, of their own deaths and the birth of hope.  So, to retrieve the Chasuble, fulfill their Vows and have hope be born, we needed to fight them and kill them, the path they have followed allows no less, they were sworn to guard. So we fought.
  He sighs as he writes this and thinks “That’s why you should never take oaths or vows without thinking them through.”
  After we had defeated them Remiel and I ascended the steps of the white strutuce, and there in a shaft of radiant light we found the Chasuble, a radiantly white garment, you could almost feel its power. We had succeeded. However, there was also an inscription “First beloved of Toran lies beneath, duty for duty, the guardian now guarded. May the soul ever rest untouched.” The letters of ‘Toran’ stood out and when we pressed them a stairway down opened.  It was dark when I peered down into the stairway so I tossed a coin with a light spell on it down to get a better look. In that brief glimpse I saw movement.
  Drow.  Drow in the tomb of Navarre, the first paladin! We gathered our strengths and went in only to be confronted by a small army of them.  After defeating the first group we came upon a sarcophagus: “Of the first light of binding and helpings to our Lord, this grave may it hold forever in peace the gifts of our Lord. Herein lies Jamila, High Cleric of Rofirein, second protector of the chasuble.”  Fortunately, the wards on this sarcophagus were intact so we continued onwards. We came upon a large room now, filled with drow and a large sarcophagus surrounded by four large statues.  We defeated the drow, but when I approached the sarcophagus I could already tell that there were no more wards on this one…   It read “Here lies Navarre, first beloved of Toran, guardian of Rofirein and holiest of knights. May his grace and justice be forever remembered" And it was empty.
  The drow had stolen the remains of the First Paladin and there was nothing we could do about it. The earth then started to shake and the tomb started to collapse, we ran out, through the valley, back into the light that took us into the Bastion again. The ground shook more and more and the Citadel started to come down around us. The time of the Ageless had indeed come to an end and we ran to try and not find our own ends below tons of stone as well.
We barely made it out triumphant because we had retrieved the Chasuble, but also downcast as the drow could never be up to any good with the remains of the First Paladin. This does not bode well.


Putting down his quill, Brac’ar sighs and thinks “I heard that the Scion was made and used, but I also understood that Navarre now walks the land as some undead abomination in service to the fiendish part of the Beast that the Scion was supposed to bind. This does indeed not bode well for the world.”


Blowing out a candle he goes to bed, but sleep has a long time in coming him…

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 14
  A few days ago I was talking to Brisbane about Shoufal because she inquired about some legendary Kothac Lightbringer. At first, the name Lightbringer threw me off, but then I guessed she must be referring to Kothac the Smith.
  Kothac single-handedly saved Shoufal from an undead invasion a couple of centuries ago and I remember that when growing up, everybody always wanted to be Kothac when we played.
  Shakes his head, chuckling “Don’t think I ever got to play Kothac.”
  That was about the extent of my knowledge so it wasn’t much help. A couple of days later, while returning from Rilara I decided to sail to Fort Velensk and from there go to Shoufal to visit my folks. Coincidentally, Plenarius had just left my parents asking them about Kothac. So I went to the entrance of the crypts and found them talking to a dwarven lass who refused them entry. Hardly surprising as the dead have earned their rest and shouldn’t be disturbed. However, they were adamant that we needed to check if Kothac’s weapon was still inside as they had encountered vampires (who seem to be serving Saproprias) are looking for it.
  So I was allowed to vouch for them as I was from Shoufal and in we went. Everything looked in good order, except that there was no dust on the lid of the sarcophagus., although there was dust everywhere else. So we went out to get a priest of Vorax as we didn’t want to disturb the grave. The priest of Vorax sanctioned us opening it and to our shock it was empty. No remains, no weapon, no nothing, except for a book in old dwarven which I’ve taken with me to study.
  He puts down his quill and takes out the book and starts to read:
  “In these the twilight years of my life, I set to parchment the annals of my days. It has been many years now since I came to cleanse Shoufal, and in doing so earned the trust and respect of those here to shelter me. But now it is time for my story to be written, lest all memory of it fade, and none learn from my experiences.”
  Taking a sip of water Brac’ar mutters “Fascinating.” and turns to the next page:
  “Of those experiences, the one that served most notably was my battle with the evil being Arkanor.”
  Almost choking on his water at reading the name of Arkanor Brac’ar thinks “Now THAT is fascinating... Arkanor Lightsbane, who'd have thought!” and reads on until daybreak.

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 15
  Looking at the leatherbound book on his table Brac'ar chuckles and writes in his journal.
  I have completed the translation and used the skills I have acquired in scribing and tailoring to make I have made several leatherbound copies which I will send off to various libraries. I'll also drop one off with the next Bearer of Knowledge I'll meet. Of course, I'll keep one for myself as well.
  Looking at the book with the shiny gilded letters Brac'ar traces them with his index finger:
  The Annals of Kothac Lightbringer - Translated from Old Dwarven by Brac'ar Fireface Kilring, 1378
 

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 16
Brac’ar enters Hlint through the west gate, a slight limp in his walk. Looking at the familiar town he hasn’t spent any significant amount of time in the last few months he sighs contently and proceeds to the inn. When arriving in his room, he sits down at the desk and takes out his journal. “Time to get this updated.”
   
  Nearly two months ago, I was chatting leisurely with Athus, Rev and Ozy near Ilsare’s temple in Hlint, when all of a sudden a discordant melody carried on the wind. It pierced the tranquility of the moment, and affected people in a strange way. They started to shout at eachoter, get into hefty fights and even kill eachother. Even Ameni, the priestess, lost it.  She attacked and when we fled she followed into the outskirts north of Hlint. We finally managed to subdue her (by an effective whack in the head from my staff), however, when we tried to get a conversation going, he eyes fell out of her sockets. Luckily, Athus was near to heal her, else things would probably have gone really bad.  When she had somewhat recovered, she was able to tell us of what exactly the discordant melody was. Something had happened to the Harper of Ilsare.  She explained that the Harper travels the lands, playing the tune of Ilsare on his harp, some say he is a servant, others say a portion of the goddess bringing love to those in need. He looks like a vagabond or a scoundrel, yet somehow he always brings joy to those he meets.
The tune he plays is a part of life's harmony that would be ours, the part of the song we would call love. Yet the song then sounded wrong, perverted somehow, so Ameni thought that dire circumstance had come upon the Harper.
   “Dire circumstance was one way of putting it…” he mutters.
   Who would be able to catch the Harper was beyond her, but if they did, they might eventually gain possession of the song. If they did, the madness which possessed everyone earlier will infect all places, the song will fill the air permanently and bring suffering, chaos and hate and love would be gone from the world.  So we, Rev, Athus, Plenarius and myself, set out, the discordant melody in our ears, it was the same everywhere, husbands fighting wives, children killing their pets, chaos everywhere.
When we came upon Fort Llast, we met a few adventurers who were oblivious to what was happening apart from the melody on the wind.
Then, Mage Dalton went berserk…. Summoning balors and other hellspawn, the tranquility of Fort Llast was ripped asunder. We ran, advising the others to do so as well and avoid the towns at all cost. I hope they listened…  We went south, as the discord seemed to be coming from there, only to arrive in a Port Hampshire which was filled with riots. We tried to avoid the rioting citizens, and managed to find a somewhat sane ship captain to take us across.
I say somewhat sane, as he demanded my staff as payment for passage… My staff!
I agreed, albeit reluctantly, it was my staff, no matter how much that captain thought it looked like an oar...  We aided fixing his ship, together with another somewhat sane sailor, when it was ready to sail, the sailor murdered the captain and took ownership of the vessel. With another mob of rioting citizens approaching, we jumped on the ship and set out towards Rilara.  Luckily, the man did know what he was doing and we made it to Rilara safely. At our request, he dropped us off near Point Harbor, as we didn’t want to run into another rioting mob.  Then when we near the Wolfswood, Plenarius succumbed to the disruptive discordants. He became distrusting, even hostile, to the three of us.
Luckily, talking to him of past memories and experiences, he managed to get a grip on his senses again, and we could continue.  We finally ended up in the Belgaer Hills, where we were beset by fiendish creatures, like abishai, but also by half-fiend sorcerors and fighters. Plenarius and Athus fell, but luckily could be restored by Reventage. The discordant harmany was very strong here, and many bursts of sound erupted, throwing most of us to the ground every time it sounded. It seemed to come from a cave so we entered.
Inside, we were beset by more fiends and half-fiends, as well as some the largest and strongest giants I have ever set eyes on. Fierce battle ensued, and one of the giant mages managed to single handedly rip the life out of Plenarius, Athus and myself.
I still don’t know how she did it, but suddenly after a period of utter blackness, I was looking at Rev’s face again, back amongst the living.  Deeper into the cave we went, the volume of the sound becoming almost tangible, throwing us against the ground if we had moments of weakness.
Eventually, we came upon another fiend, a female one. Glowing with tattoos of power and wielding two blades she charged. After a long battle, she was defeated, and when taking a closer look at the tattoos, they reminded me of Milara.
The sound continued to throws itself against us and on we pressed into the cave, where the vibrations of the disrupted music echoed stronger and stronger, and then we came upon a man.
He was wielding a blade, which was the source of the sound, and started mocking us. It was clear that he wasn’t a person to be argued with so we attacked. Already being spent from the previous battle with the female fiend, this one was possibly even worse, however, in the end, we got the better of him. He also had some of the tattoos the fiend had had.
His blade continued to send out the discordan harmony and vibrated with power.  
The indentations on the blade seemed designed to modify sound and turn it to a new form, as well as amplify that same sound. However, something was strange about the hilt, silver wires were wrapped around it.
Reventage, using my sewing kit, managed to detach them from the blade, they were very fine silver wires and looked very much like strings, which they were.
Having removed them did lessen the strength of the discord, but by no means was the Harmony of Life back to normal.  So we then returned to Hlint and Ameni as soon as we could, hoping that she could put a use to the strings. When we got there, the people had recovered somewhat but everyone was still on edge. We also met Ozymandias and Arestes at the temple.  Ameni went to get a harp frame and strung the strings to the harp and Rev played a note. That was a bad idea.  Immediately, the discordant melody picked up in strength and the populace of Hlint went berserk. Garent attacked us and quartermaster Talon stormed towards Ameni with that nasty weapon of his.
Luckily, Garent hadn’t put his helmet on and a nice whack in the head with my staff knocked him out. Had to turn Talon to stone though, I hope both don’t mind too much…. Apparently, something was still wrong with the strings, then Ameni recalled an ancient text:  "When strings unstrung sing discords song, the winds will need to cleanse them. Strung to land, heart and soul the frame reborn, the breeze to seek. Holy winds of Ilsare come to a place where winds do not blow."  Of course, I like a nice old riddle and obviously, a place where winds do not blow is somewhere below ground. Ozymandias then mentioned a cave of Winds, somewhere on the Kingdom of Roldem, where winds had come below ground, so that fit the riddle quite well.
We decided to use Reventage’s teleporter in her home to transport to Pranzis and go from there. When I was about to enter her house, a terrified shriek came from the temple.
Reventage and I ran back and there it was…  A statue of a scorpion.  Now, I had heard about these before, but never actually seen one. It is a message from Milara that a god is under attack, and if it wasn’t clear from the tattoos on the fiends earlier, it was now. Ilsare was Milara’s next target.
I tried to sense in what way the statues actually was magic and cautiously extended my senses. It was a good thing I was so careful, because I immediately felt my life being drained from me when I did. Fascinating, no doubt, but not fascinating enough to get killed.  Reventage was in total shock, and Ameni was on the verge of hysteria (which is not that surprising). I had to nearly whack sense back into Reventage, that the only way we could counter the attack is get the strings fixed and find the Harper so that the Harmony would be restored.
We ran into the house and jumped into the portal. When arriving in Pranzis, we set out as fast as we could to take ship to Tibum and then onwards to Silden.  Near Silden, however, we were beset by drow as well as giants, much like the giants we encountered in the cave. All probably in service of Milara.
I have never seen archers that were that accurate as those drow were, they slaughtered us, except for Reventage. The last thing I recall was the foul water of the swamp entering my mouth as I collapsed with several arrows in my back…  Then, suddenly a bright light and the face of a female drow. I was in shock, and thought she’d raised me just to kill me again, but it turned out she followed Az’atta and was fighting the other drow. When I rejoined my companions, we hurried after her, but we were too late.
At the entrance to the cave of winds, we came upon her, crucified with a cruel note at her feet.  "Nobody fools with Milara and gets away with it"
We got her body down, and were about to try to raise her, when I noticed something off. Apparently, she wasn’t really dead, I determined that Milara had locked her soul into some twisted magical trap, which would go off when somebody would try to cast a raise dead spell on her. It would then capture the magical energy of the spell and kill everything in the area.
Unfortunately, I could not find a way to remove this trap... With the life of Ilsare depending on us, we could not afford to lose any time, so we left her, in a shallow grave. May she forgive us.  Brac’ar stares out of the window, thinking of how the Az’attan priestess had sacrificed herself.  We entered the cave. Winds and gusts of air tore at our clothes, and we had trouble standing up straight. Air elementals could be seen, as well as giants and some kind of twisted ‘thing’ for lack of a better word. The elementals did not seem hostile at first, so maybe they would have ignored us had we not bothered them. Unfortunately, before I had voiced this, my companions had already attacked them.
The winds in the cave turned very angry at this, and the anger was directed at us…  We slowly pressed on through the cave, unsure of what we were looking for. Reventage prayed to Ilsare for guidance, and got the sense that she needed to find two things; one that has something to do with earth, a stable thing, the other something to do with fluidness, an intangible thing.  So, fighting giants, half-fiends, twisted things, and air elementals, we plowed on through the cave, further down.
We eventually came upon a kind of room, a large glowing thing in the center of it, with paintings on the walls.
The thing itself was cleary magical and radiated a blue light. In the glow, an inscription could be read from its base.  “Speak to me of release, speak of the common in all and the rarely true in life"  I guessed it had to do with the commonality in the paintings. There was one of a man in golden armor leading an army, one of a man with slit wrists, one of a woman with a child on her arm, one of a Halfling woman baking a pie, another of a man, touching the ground, also one of a human in sky blue robes wielding magic. The last painting was one which depicted all, with a red ribbon around it.  Obviously, the answer was “true love”. The paintings depicted the gods, with love for battle, death, family, nature, and magic. When I said those words, the blue glowing things opened, a golden harp frame inside it.  It was a golden frame with no strings. Beautiful elven runes of musical notes and beautiful pictures flowed around it. The magic within was so powerful it hummed as Rev picked it up. She read the runes, which were mostly prayers to Ilsare, which have been known and told for ages, which are beautiful elven songs.  Now, with frame and strings in our possession, all we needed was to cleanse the strings and string the harp. That turned out to be easier said then done. We had to continue to fight our way further into the cave, and eventually came upon the largest demons I have ever seen. I also distinctly hope that I will never see their kind again… But we had no choice, we had to fight them, so we did.
And we won.  Then we came upon the deepest section of the cave, where twelve air elemental like creatures waited, radiating power. After fighting the demons, we were in no shape to fight these, and resting with the raging winds around us wasn’t an option either.
So Plenarius went closer to them, and thankfully, they did not attack.
We all went close, very carefully, and then one of them approached:  “Now to the place where all songs are sung, notes played and tunes undone. From high to low first I fall, then ascend on wings divine.”  Then the creature was silent. Clearly, another riddle, indicating how to play them; start with high notes, then with low notes and then upwards again.  Near them, a large rock, which, with a bit of imagination, could be seen as a big stone harp, was standing. It had twelve holes at the top and twelve at the bottom, exactly the same amount of strings we had.
Reventage then proceeded to string this stone harp. I must admit have never seen somebody as nervous as her at that time, but with characteristic Reventage determination, she started the tedious task, fully knowing, that breaking one of those twelve strings was not an option.  While she was doing that, I studied the creatures further. As Plen had already said, they were not air elementals at all, they were creatures of pure sound, each representing a different note. Quite fascinating, to see creatures of pure sound.  Meanwhile, Rev had taken a break, about halfway there with the strings, all of them still whole. With a few mutters she then continued with the remaining ones. We tried to not be too obvious watching her, but we were… so much depended on it.
Finally, she was done, all strings still whole, and all of them in the stone harp. The creatures, however, remained motionless.  Reventage then proceeded to play the first string, with the highest note. When she did, no sound was heard and nothing happened. She continued to the lower notes, one by one. All this without any reaction from the creatures. Then she went upwards again, waited a bit before playing the last highest note.  For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, one of the creatures moved towards the stone harp, and when it touched it, a single pure note filled the cavern. Then the second creature moved, and when it hit the harp, a second note joined the first in harmony.
The third deepened the timbre of the melody, the fourth turns the cavern into a maze of sound, entrancing and enrapturing.
The fifth added depth and tone, the music seems to span time effortlessly.
The sixth remarked on beauty, each see different things but all to the eye are beautiful.
The seventh added the haunting lilt of truth, so often needed and sometimes painful.
The eighth added a baritone of joy, joy in the moment and of the now, the satisfaction of living.
The ninth brought the midtones, not as delicate as the highs or as moving as the lows, it is the tune of everyday existence spanning more than a moment.
The tenth brought peace and the assurance of affection, the care of others for who you truly are.
The eleventh brought self, the acceptance of your own being beyond flaws and faults, and accepting those faults as part of perfection.
The last brought eternity, the love of ages and the complete harmony found in emotion that relates to all people and all things.   Then, the cavern resonated briefly with this glorious hymn, straight from the great song itself before falling into a deadening silence.  There wasn’t a word to describe what we felt during the cleansing of the strings, it was… sublime. When the deadening silence fell, the strings were lying on top of the stone harp, glowing softly.

Rev then hesitantly took the strings and strung them to the golden frame we found earlier. And then it was done, the Harper’s Harp was whole again.  However, all was not well. 

A discolorant spot appeared on the shiny gold harp.

It was decaying, probably because something was wrong with the Harper.   Rev felt the urge to go southwest, towards Rilara so we ran to the nearest port as fast as we could.

Bribing a shipcaptain to take us directly to Karthy, we made good time, but once in Karthy we were somewhat lost. Something linked Karthy to the Harper and it wasn’t until we came close to a tree that we found out what it was. The tree remembered the song the Harper played underneath it, so he’d been there!
According to some locals he had left, but when Arestes tried to commune with other trees outside town to determine where he went, there was no trace of him.
Last thing people knew was that he had played at a Xeenite festival in Karthy.  We confronted the rather drugged Priestess of Xeen and, after she got somewhat high of some red root, she started talking about them imprisoning the Harper because he played so well at their festival.
They’d taken the Harp from him and sent it to a mage in the Swamp of Lost Souls to learn its secrets. However, her envoys didn’t return, demons did and they took the Harper.
We set out to the swamp, the harp continuing to corrode and its runes fading. We did not have much time.
We fought our way through half-fiends and demons again, as well as through golems made of demon flesh inside the mage’s tower. When we finally subdued him, he wanted a bargain. He’d tell us what he knew, if the Harper, who’s a “useless appendage to a dysfunctional deity”, would write him a Sonnet of Chaos.
He would geas the harp compelling the user to write the Sonnet for him. And the mage will then use the Sonnet as he sees fit.  The mage told us he was contacted by a priestess of Xeen a few months ago. She had a harp she wanted studied ad agreed to pay the mage for doing so.
He demanded more than she was comfortable with but that in the end, it was a price she was willing to pay. She dispatched a small number of her clergy to bring the harp to him.
It got sidetracked. A group of black mages waylaid the priestesses. They took the harp and delivered it to their master. Hearing of this the master decided that half was not good, he always wants all. He attacked the temple of Xeen and spirited the Harper away.
The wizards then made a blade, which defiled the harp. Strings wrapped around its hilt.  By this time in his story, he had moved into a pentagram. I tried to break it by making a gap in on of its lines, but touching it with my staff made me turn to stone. I still can’t believe he did that to me!  "We'll see who's the better mage next time..."  Later, when we left and I was released from being a dwarven statue, I heard that Rev had made the decision to accept his condition of the Sonnet of Chaos. Not that she had had any choice; it was either accepting, or running of in no specific direction looking for the Harper, which would take time we didn’t have.
  The Harper was being held in a cave in the Wolfswood, and we had no time to waste.  

The last bit of gold on the harp’s frame corroded and none of the runes were visible anymore

  
  We ran. Harried from all sides by fiends, twisted creatures and maraliths we arrived at the edge of the wood. We fought our way into the cave, confronted again by the same huge demons we also met in the Cave of Winds. And then a vast barrier of blades prevented us from continuing.
   
 

Cracks were starting to appear in the Harp.

  
  The blades were not magical, yet they were very strong. They tore up one of the demon corpses we tried to push into them, and turned a large boulder into smalle pieces of rock when we rolled it into the blades.
   
 

The cracks in the frame started to widen and a moaning sound came from it. It looked like it was about to fall apart.

  
  Kobal, who had joined us in Karthy, said a fervent prayer to Rofirein and then stepped into the blades. A yellowish bridge of light appeared beneath his feet, which extended with every step, allowing him to cross the barrier! Rev quickly prayed to Ilsare for one last bit of strength even though She might need it in fending off Milara and also stepped into the blades, only to have a red bridge of light appear.
Muttering a prayer to Dorand I followed on a brownish bridge of light, the others did the same. Plen and Arestes on bridges of green light. We crawled through a narrow passage and there he was, somebody you'd wish you'd never meet in person:  Milara.  Standing next to a large pentagram, he looked unfussed by our intrusion. He looked at the man lying in the centre of a smoke-filled pentagram. He then looked at Reventage who was storming towards him, and casually slit the Harpers throat. Chaos erupted in the world and Milara disappeared.
   
 

A few strings broke.

  Clouds gathered, thunder roared and lightning struck. Red rain was starting to come down upon the surface, corrupting everything it touched. Life’s Harmony was in mortal peril, friend turned against friend, husband turned against wife, and the air was filled with discord.  We pulled the Harper from the pentagram, trying to keep him alive. Athus asking for the help of Aeridin, Reventage praying for Ilsare to help her, and Plen pleading Katia for aid. Yet the bleeding didn’t stop, the Harper was dying.
Rev started to hum the Melody as it was supposed to be, the way we heard it when we cleansed the strings, but that only seemed to hurt him more, he shook his head, a sad look in his eyes. We told the Harper of friendship, trust and love, yet the wound kept on bleeding.
   
 

With a cracking sound the frame nearly split apart, only a few strings remaining whole.

  Then, Rev kissed him on the forehead, and he smiled. The discordant chaos seemed to lessen for a moment, only to kick in stronger a few seconds later.  She then kissed him on the heart, followed by a kiss on the mouth.  The Harper sighed at the kiss, a final exhalation that seems to hang in the air, a benediction to a life lived full and shared.
   
  An explosion of epic proportions rocked the cave and the harp burst into frantic song.
The cave reverberated for a moment before the joyfull sound spilled forth across the lands.

Before our eyes, the corrosion fell away, the harp sat gleaming and complete, mystic runes made anew and silver strings shining like a new dawn.

  The land was shaken under a majestic roar of sound, a soft red hue fills the air... suddenly old loves forgotten were remembered, new ties were strengthened and for a moment it seems to be the only emotion in the world that matters.  The sound and color then faded for short time but did not vanish, the melody was taking its place with the rest of the great harmony of life. Playing constantly in the background in tune with the heartbeat of the world.  As the harp played sound appears visible around Kobal, speaking in its own way of his loyalty and steadfastness to order and justice. He stood taller and looked renewed.
Walls of green vines rise around Plenarius, sound given form in his love of nature and the wild. A faint echo of the true song of the land is heard in the breathtaking melody. Plenarius stood taller, and seemed renewed.  Sheets of metal and magic formed around me, making gentle waves of blue light upon the cavern floors. The notes form a singular word: "Fascinating". I felt myself grow taller for a moment, and felt renewed.  A tree appeared around Arestes, growing wildly and constantly changing its form. It stays still for no time at all, the tune of evolution in motion. Arestes also stood taller and seemed renewed.  Waves of chaotic sound rose around Reggub, blue and violent flashes of red sound clang around him in a discordant symphony. They speak of passion for life and his everlasting love of the female form. Reggub also stood taller and looked renewed.  Then, the sounds from all gathered shattered asunder and rush to surround Reventage and the harp. The songs intertwine and mix until a singular great melody is heard. A melody that tells the tale of the quest for the Harper of Ilsare.  The harp plays the final strains of sorrow at the death of the old, but rejoices at the new before falling silent once more.  We must have stood there for minutes, enjoying the echoes of the Harmony that we just heard, and totally speechless by what we had just accomplished.   I must admit that Reventage looked a bit lost with that Harp but I guess it needs to grow on you.
All in all, it was a fascinating experience.
   
  Laughing he closes the journal for the night.

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 17
Sitting on the bed of his room in the inn, Brac’ar carefully removes the bandage that covered the wound on his leg. The wound is still oozing a greenish puss, and, despite the tissue around it looking fine, it doesn’t look as if the wound is closing. He replaces the bandage with a new one from the large bag of bandages Athus provided and sighs.  After the events I described earlier relating to the Harper of Ilsare, I did not yet return to Mistone, but went to Xantril, on an expedition. A veritable army of adventurers had decided to explore the lands of Xandrial and I was one of them.
We traveled far and wide, from Arabel to the south, onwards to the Cloven Mountains where the Skullcrusher giants reign.
Northwards towards the Roughlands and a place called the Lake of Salt, northwards still until we came upon a tomb in the sands.
Still half covered, it looked like it was only recently uncovered by the winds.  Scores of undead were milling about, and attacked once they had sighted us. With the divine power of several clerics backing us, they were not too hard to dispatch, so we ventured forward into the tomb.
Naturally, more undead awaited us in the dusty, sandy tomb. We found some reference to somebody named Wallach who was supposedly buried in here, but who he is I still don’t know.
When we made it to the central burial chamber, we were confronted by more undead, and one of them stood out. His bones glowed as if reflecting the light from flames, his eye-cavities were filled with flames and in his hands fireballs rested. My companions focused on the other undead, as I went to duel this undead fire mage.
I assumed the old adagium “Fight fire with fire” was not going to work, as using fire magic against me is also a bit pointless due to my protections. Apparently, he did not think of that and tried to fry me where I stood.
At that moment, I was happy that I never totally focused on just fire spells. I breached his arcane defenses and summoned Svevarr, then, with Svevarr disrupting his concentration by hitting him with that big sword of his, I quickly send storms of missiles his way.
He did not last long.
By that time, my companions had defeated the other undead, apart from one other skeleton, who all of a sudden started to talk. He claimed his master wanted to talk… About life. Obviously, he was a bit late.  Putting down his quill for a moment, Brac’ar chuckles softly. “He should’ve talked before trying to fry me.”  After some discussion, where for some reason Quintayne was advocating to try and raise the skeleton of the mage, we left. Outside, we were confronted by total darkness and a mysterious mummy-like creature which attacked us.
Unlike most mummies, this one was quick and clearly sentient. Its magic was very strong, so we ran.  Later, when catching our breath at Fort Miritix, an elf stumbled into the Fort. Mortally wounded, he asked us with his dying breath to take a package to the Alpansian Grove on Voltrex, as well as seek out his family on Voltrex.
Reventage called out to Ilsare to raise him, and she was granted the power to do so. However, the elf was very angry at being torn away from his god, so Ozy killed him again immediately.
I thought about calling the guards, but then again, this was Xantril… They probably wouldn’t care.  We left the fort and set out for Voltrex. We arrived at the breathtakingly beautiful Saida. We asked for directions and were told to go north to find the Grove. On our way north, we came across a few of the Elven Elemental Towers; Air, Earth, Nature and Fire. Imposing sights, all of them, but the Fire one has, of course, my preference.
Finally, we arrived in the Alpansian Grove, another exquisitely beautiful place, and turned in the package to the elven druid that awaited us there. She told us the elf’s name was Alieviear Cranthaian and that his family lives in a wood elf village in Ulambree Forest. A village we had already passed through on our way to the Grove.
She also explained in some cryptic way the purpose of the Grove:
“It's the grove of Voltrex, the single grove that serves Voltrex. The other locations, of which I'm sure you saw as you traveled here, serve the world. This place serves Voltrex.”
I wonder what she meant by that, I’ll have to ask Rhizome some day.  We went back to the village, discussing all the time whether or not to tell the Cranthaian family that their relative had died twice, being murdered by Ozy the second time.
Ozy and Rufus argued we shouldn’t, as that might turn the elves of Voltrex away from allying themselves against Blood. I argued that we should tell them the truth.
Ozy and Rufus did not join us entering the village though.  Rev, being the only elf around, asked to meet the Cranthaian family and told them their relative had died. However, they didn’t ask how, maybe that’s irrelevant to these woodelves, I don’t know. In any case, Rev also did not offer to elaborate on his death, so we left.
After wandering around the continent of Voltrex for a while longer, eventually I left there again, back north, to the haunting cries of Arabel, because my exploration of Xantril wasn’t over yet.
Setting out from Arabel, Ozy, Rev and myself travelled far and wide across the continent. Eventually, we came upon a fort called the Fort of Last Hope.
I am not sure where its name came from, and the handful of inhabitants that we saw weren't too forthcoming with information either.
The fort is nestled at the edge of the Demon moutains, and only few call it home. Not a big fort, it probably doesn't, or didn't, function as a place of resistance against Xandrial's hordes, so maybe Fort of Lost Hope would've been a better name. However, the fort has one fascinating structure. Pointing upwards into the sky as if trying to rival the peaks of the mountains behind it, stood a tower.

Constructed from grey-black rock it towered upwards. Fascinated, and totaly willing to purchase it from its current owner, I walked up to the door and knocked.  At the moment I touched the door, however, thunder crashed and lightning flashed down towards me, knocking me against the ground. Ozy examined the door closer for traps and there did not seem to be any physical traps. Extending my senses, I determined there was a magical ward placed into the structure of the tower itself. A strange combination of Transmutation and Evocation, which felt able to recharge itself.  So we decided to try and deplete it. I summoned Svevarr a few times to hack at the door, he was nearly instantly put to waste every time he hit. Ozy summoned a golem to lean against the door, as the golem would be able to take more than a floating armor. After a few tries we determined that after every six strikes there was a bit of a lapse in lightning. How to take advantage of this however, is another story. Perhaps a group abjuration could do the trick, perhaps not. I will need to scour some libraries on information on this tower, as well as to try and gain the knowledge of a powerful ninth circle abjuration spell, which, probably in combination with something else, could be enough to allow entrance into the tower.
  Then once inside, I might be better able to determine how it works. I like a challenge, and this is one of the most fascinating ones yet.   Looking up Brac’ar mutters “Yes, a challenge indeed.” Chuckling, he closes his journal.
   
 

[EdTheKet]

Still at his room in the inn, Brac’ar sits himself down behind the desk again.
I’ve now reached the occurrences that have to me having a small wound which is not closing and continues to ooze a greenish goo, and my return to Hlint.  [/i]
It is a story of dragons, or at least, a start of a story of dragons, I’ve only met one yet, Fezrekthania, the Broken One. But I will not get ahead of myself, it started on Xantril, after I had returned to Arabel from the Fort of Lost Last Hope.   [/i]
In Arabel, rumors abounded that adventurers had been sent to the tower of somebody named Ozlo, somewhere near the Great Forest. They were requested to go there by Moraken, apparently, so I decided to head there as well, together with Reventage.  [/i]
When we came upon this tower, we saw it was actually a very large tree. Other adventurers had already arrived, and when we finally were let in, we were met by a gnome. We had to sign some forms in triplicate, outlining anything we heard in there would be confidential. We were not to talk to anyone about it. When finally everyone had signed, we could go talk to him.  [/i]
Up we went, and without any real introductions he asked us to tell him what we know of dragons. People started talking about chromatic and metallic dragons, chromatics are evil, metallics are good. However, all the metallics had left.   [/i]
However, Kasha mentioned she’d met a silver one before, to whom a golden egg was taken. Unfortunatly, Ozlo mentioned the silver was no more.   [/i]
Whatever ‘no more’ means, death or no longer on Layonara, remains unclear. And I wonder what happened to the egg.  [/i]
He then mentioned he had information on how to bring the metallics back into the world. However, there is a catch; we need to unite the five chromatic dragons for a common cause. We can choose the cause, however, if the dragons will also see it as a good cause is a totally different matter, as each has its own wants, needs and desires. Ozlo seeks to unite the chromatics first, so that when we, he said ‘you’ not ‘I’, bring back the metallics, the chromatics would not immediately attack the metallics. He then stated the obvious, that all chromatics should not be underestimated. They’ve been alive for centuries, so they’re very smart, and very dangerous, else they would’ve perished already a long time ago. However, they all like treasure and servitude, and all of them hate the Seven Sisters.  [/i]
He proceeded to ask what sisters were. I provided him with two answers, either females who share at least one parent, or a group of females united in a common cause, like a sisterhood. He confirmed my suspicions that the Seven Sisters are the latter, but also that two of the Seven are actually really sisters in the first definition of the word. At the moment, two of the Sisters, it’s not clear if these are also the two that are related, are in battle, and they should be united, with the aid of the one (whoever that may be), in order for the Weave to be strong. So even though all of them server Lucinda, they’re not seeing eye to eye. The Sisters are spread across the three Chapters of Lucinda, and these Chapters are currently moving away from each other, due to the war in the heavens and the actions of the one.  This ‘one’ is doing his duty still, even though he should be dead. Even though, through no fault of his own, his very essence was ripped through time, and yet still he performs his duty. So this must be the creature called Shifter, but if that’s also the ‘one’ who needs to help mending the fight between two of the Sisters remains to be seen.  [/i]
The reason the dragons hate the Sisters,, is that the Sisters have been chosen to protect the Weave. Something the dragons used to do in the past, not the dragons themselves, but three of the dragon gods, who are now gone.  [/i]
This gave me an idea. Obviously, Blood is not reason enough for the chromatic dragons to unite, else they would’ve done so already. However, what they might want to have back is their gods, and specifically, their gods’ who were involved with the Weave. That might just be the cause they can all rally behind, because who wouldn’t want to be involved in the return of a god? It’s easy to see that if somebody aids a god in returning, he could expect large favors or power from the returning god. That’d probably be incentive for any power-hungy dragon I would think.  [/i]
So I proceeded to ask Ozlo about what would happen if the dragons replaced the Sisters. According to him that would mean Lucinda would be dead, her Chapters destroyed and the dragon gods returning into more power. However, since there used to be three dragon gods involved in preserving the Weave, whereas now there is only Lucinda, it might be that more than one god is needed for the Weave to be at its strongest. And it needs to be at its strongest for Blood to be defeated, Ozlo stressed this a few times.  When I mentioned this to Ozlo, he said “I believe that that is why there are Chosen.” To which I replied, as mere mortals in my opinion can never replace gods: “But Chosen are not gods.” He did not reply to this further.  [/i]
He suggested we start with either the green or blue dragon first. SO we set out to Roldem, to the lair of the Broken One.  [/i]
During the trip there, I expressed my theory on how getting dragon gods back to maintain the Weave might be a good cause to unite them with, but that was met with a lot of scorn. The Weave wasn’t mine to offer, I was blasphemous because that would kill Lucinda, there do not need to be more gods, and what not. However, people seemed to forget the metallics. If they return, they could be the force to balance the chromatics, so let’s say if two of the three dragon gods returned, we’d have Lucinda, a chromatic dragon god, and a metallic dragon god protecting the Weave. To add to that, if we manage to stop the feud between two of the Sisters and make them work as a group again, they might get the Weave in proper shape already, and have Lucinda get the strongest grip on it, dividing the remaining ‘power’ so to speak, amongst the two retunred dragon gods.  [/i]
Then, the Weave might be strong enough to defeat Blood, as it needs to be strong, probably to overcome the power Blood draws from his bloodwells.  [/i]
In general, people weren’t receiving my plan with an open mind. When we finally fought our way into the dragon’s lair however, I got pushed forward as spokesman.  [/i]
Knowing the vanity of dragons, I bowed low, and stayed low, all the time using honorifics as ‘mighty one’, ‘wise one’ and referring to me as ‘lowly worm’ or something along those lines. Of course, bowing so low made me nearly nauseous from the green gases which drifted around him, but I persisted.

  [/i]
It worked quite well. When I explained that we wanted to unite the chromatics and came to him first, as he was the mightiest and word of his might had spread through his followers he was willing to listen. However, I first offered a meeting with the Sisters. That was a bad idea. He made a wound in my leg and breathed some of his foul breath into it. The wound now refuses to close and continues to ooze a greenish puss.  [/i]
I quickly corrected the mistake and mentioned the Weave. The dragon replied that I could not offer him the Weave, which I immediately confirmed, as it’s not mine to give. However, if the chromatics unite, they might be able to do something together.  [/i]
He seemed to ponder this for a while, and then made a sound that remotely reminded me of laughter. He accepted, but only on the condition that all the other chromatics accepted as well, and we’d need to get a golden urn from the ruins beneath his lair first, and we had one day to do it, or he’d kill us all. I could take 4 others with me into the ruins.  [/i]
So Reventage, Remiel, Triba, Athus and I went down with all haste. Dodging and disarming traps we found our way to the center of the ruins, where many undead awaited. After a heavy battle, which I’ll not describe in detail, we were victorious and found the urn. We briefly investigated it, and it turned out it only looked like an urn because of some illusion, in fact it was a bowl with a black bottomless pit in its center. Unfortunately, the day was almost past so we ran back, not having time to investigate further. We came back to the Broken One, and gave him the urn. He then flicked a sliver of a scale from his skin and had a drop of his blood fall onto it.  [/i]
That was his bond that he’d do as he said. He’d unite with the others, but only if all of the others also agreed. When I asked a boon to have the wound cured, he ignored me. He didn’t ignore the request that we’d want to take Ozy’s corpse with us, as he had killed Ozy when he arrived (Ozy had tried to kill the Broken One once). After paying six high magic items, of which one was my ring of intelligence, we could take him. Then the Broken One flew off.  [/i]
So, now I sit here in the inn, with this sliver of scale and a festering wound. Athus hasn’t found a way to cure it yet, but I wonder if maybe this sliver of scale itself might be the key. After all, it is from the creature that made the wound fester… A fascinating theory, if I say so myself.  [/i]
And perhaps I need a new staff, it was called paddle in Port Hampshire, and toothpick by the Broken One…  [/i]
Four dragons to go. I’d visit them all myself if I could.   [/i]
Putting down his quill, Brac’ar takes out another bandage and changes the one on his wound.  
    
[/i]

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 19
  Brac'ar sits at his desk and sends a letter to a long time friend.
  Rhizome.   We have not seen eachother in ages, which is regrettable. Even writing the letter pains me somewhat as I am not writing it to only ask how you are doing, but also to ask for your assistance.   I am sure you are aware of the deals that need to be made with the chromatic dragons. DUring the first of these deals, involving the Green dragon on Roldem, the dragon punctured my leg with one of his claws and I now have a wound that refuses to close and continues to ooze a greenish puss.   I realize that that is probably not the nicest way to desribe it but that is what it is.  Athus has tried all of his Healing he knows, but something is clearly wrong with it.  Last week, I encountered the Striker of Fear. She strongly advised me to cure the wound and that I would need to find her in the forest in a good mood some time and she might show me some plants which my friends could brew into an antidote.   As I had never met her before then, and am unsure where to start looking for her, not to mention how to ensure she's in a good mood, I was hoping you would be able to help me, because maybe you encounter her on occassion, being the High Treehugger that you are.   I hope you're well.  Brac'ar.

[EdTheKet]

ENTRY 20
Entering his old room at his parent’s place in Shoufal, Brac’ar takes out his journal. “I’ve put this off far too long.”
Taking out his quill, he mutters “Where to start, where to start? Shall I finish the dragons, or keep thing chronological and start with the Library?” Sighing, he takes out his quill, sharpens it and starts to write.  I shall start with the Library. A few years ago, the lost elven library had been located and all it was now lacking was a new home. Funds were being collected by Triba and Eldarwen to construct a new Great Library.[/i]
  While they were doing that, Arenski was able to reach the Speaker of Nature, who seems to be the occupant of the Tower of Nature on Voltrex and quite the powerful figure.  [/i]Now, a messenger from the Speaker had arrived, seeking people to find the library again and bring it out. [/i]But first, it had to be decided where to build the new Library, as books, of course, need to be protected. [/i]Queen Allurial prefers for it to be built on Mistone, but the Speaker of Nature prefers for it to be built on Voltrex.[/i]
  The Speaker offered to have Triba and Eldarwen and the other donators build the library on Voltrex and give them permanent access to Voltrex. Those who would assist with the moving would gain limited access.[/i]
   Triba, sly merchant that she can be, countered with the possibility of a portal with free access to the library for the people here, yet Voltrex to remain virgin from outsider contact.[/i]
  The Speaker would consider this option if the Seven Sisters unite and stand behind Allurial, as she speaks for Lucinda, uniting the Five Towers and Lucinda, something he apparently values.[/i]
  Then all people could access the library through this portal, and the rest of Voltrex would remain off limits, except for those who helped construct the library and assist in the move, they would also get limited access to Voltrex. This access, however, would only be valid for the duration of the life of the current Speaker of Nature, who, according to his messenger, is still quite young for a Speaker, whatever that may mean… For all we know, elves don’t qualify for being Speaker until they’re six centuries old and he can die at any moment.  [/i]So we set out to Blackford Castle, to give this proposal to the Queen. When we arrived, to my surprise, she inquired about my wound. I guess she probably heard about it from the Striker of Fear.  [/i]Triba then proceeded to explain the proposal of the portal and the requirement by the Speaker for the Sisters to agree on this for it to happen. It would also mean that the Five Towers and the Sisters would be working together, at this Allurial replied “Unity in the Weave”.  [/i]Quite a fascinating statement if you ask me, as it implies that there is no unity in the Weave. This was also implied by Ozlo earlier, but I thought that that was just regarding unity within the sisterhood of the Seven Sisters, but not it seems there is more and these Five Towers also are involved.  [/i]Allurial then summoned the other Sisters: Selian, the Striker of Fear, the Lady of the Land, Misty, and the Sielwood Witch and her sister. After some deliberation, only five of them agreed with Allurial though, if I judged it correctly, only the sister of the Sielwood Witch did not. [/i]Triba tried to persuade them by explaining that we have asked for free access to this library for all, however, the elves wish their land toremain free of outsiders. To do this certain protections must be provided, these which can only be granted by the united power of the Sisters. The island may hold wonders, but it is not what we seek nor need, all we need is access to the Library. By the Seven Sisters uniting, along with the Five Towers, this ward is to be established, and the link from our lands to theirs.[/i]
  Then the Sister of the Sielwood witch asks to know for how long this arrangement would last as the length of the current Speaker’s life is not long enough. [/i]Allurial makes a counter proposal, only if he agrees, the Sisters will agree. "The sisters do not accept the terms to be for as long as your current Speaker remains in power or alive. Instead, since Lucinda is guaranteeing this success, it is for as long as Lucinda herself remains alive and in power and control of the Weave. You ask your Speaker if that is good for him."   [/i]The Ambassador, after consulting magically with the Speaker, added one requirement: “That Lucinda always protects Katia and aid her in the heavens at this very time.”[/i]
  Another fascinating statement, as one can conclude that Lucinda is the more powerful deity.  [/i]Sister of Sielwood witch turns angry at this, as they make a demand on Lucinda. The Ambassador, however, does not see this as a demand, Queen asks library to be open while Lucinda is alive and in control of the weave. They ask for Lucinda to aid Katia in return.  [/i]Then the Sielwood witch comes forward and states that it is decided, and a deal is struck. “While Lucinda remains in control of the weave, and she is alive, all good people on Layonara shall have access to this new Great Library on Voltrex. Katia shall have her aid when the library is moved and the portal is established.”  [/i]This also seemed a bit weird, as up to then Allurial had done the talking, and now all of a sudden the Sielwood Witch sealed the deal.   [/i]During all this, Reventage also kept making claims that the Church of Ilsare would be involved in this venture, as the library would also hold many artistic treasures.  [/i]It was not until then that I noticed the mage Xora to also be present, she had been silent during the entire meeting, but I wonder what her stake in all this is.[/i][/i]
  [/i]
  In the company of Misty we then traveled to the fortress of the Ulgrids, as we would take ship from the underground docks and sail towards the library from there. [/i]It seemed King Ulgrid IV at first didn’t want to lend us his ships, but Misty tells himthat he owes Allurial a favor and that she came to collect. At that point, he agreed. [/i]As we left the audience hall, he beckoned me to come closer and asked me why I used magic, as that was not a thing a dwarf did.  [/i]I told him that I was still a dwarf and magic had its uses, nodded towards him, bid him good day and left. Now that I think back on it, I don’t think that was a very smart thing to do, as he probably didn’t like my lack of respect, but anyway, let’s call it “The arrogance of Kings.” magic has its uses.[/i]
  [/i]
  We board two ships, and I captain the first and Ozy the second. We sail on an underground sea for weeks. During this time, however, I learn a lot about sailing, although I’ll never become a genuine captain of a merchant or military vessel of course.  [/i]We sail back and forth, keeping an eye on the device that we had to relocate the library. We also get beset by some Duergar pirates and a fierce sea battle ensued, we prevailed and took control of their vessel. We also found a brooch or something with the words ‘Twar Shal’ on it, whatever it may mean.  [/i]Finally, after more sailing, we come to the spot where the sunken Library resides. We are transported inside by the magic of Arenski and end up in the largest library I ever saw.[/i]
  Scores and scores of books! One could spend a lifetime there and not read it all!  [/i]However, we did not come to read, and Triba gives a blue pouch to Arenski, with which he can make something called a tunnel link. To my shock, as he stepped through it, he turned to ashes, his task as guardian of the Lost Elven Library completed Arensky Prielarn Prielarn was no more.  [/i]May his soul find peace.  [/i]We returned to Ulgrid’s and instructed them on how to reach the library. With the addition of the Duergar vessel we had captured, they now had three ships to move the contents of the Library to Voltrex and it would only take a few months to get all the books to Voltrex.  [/i]As we left the fortress and I looked up at the night sky, I saw the figure of a snake struke at what seems to be a figure of a heart. The figure of the Heart is Ilsare’s constellation, and the Viper is a new one which I will put some investigations in to.  [/i]I then traveled to the High Forest in search of the Striker of Fear, as I still needed a cure for the wound the dragon gave me. Strolling through the forest, she was the one who found me though. She urged me to hide as evil was afoot and it wasn’t long until a man passed by fairly close, moving southwards. She then hurriedly told me Blood had been angered, as Milara was growing in power, and his other generals weakened. The Striker went to follow him, whispering in my ear to find her in the Elven Woods on Voltrex for a cure if I wanted to live before she ran off into the woods.  [/i]I hurried southwards as well, and when I was a few miles from Hlint I already saw the glow of fires against the dark clouds. Hlint was under attack.  [/i]As I stormed into town, I saw the same man I saw before in the High Forest, calling fires from the sky, fires the likes I have never seen, he walked through town, killing everyone in his path. After nearly three quarters of the town had been burned to the ground, he left.  [/i]That had been quite the trip, with quite the repercussions. The Library had been restored, yes, but at what cost? Ilsare attacked by the Viper, and from what I heard later, Katia and Lucinda as well. Rumor at the time has it that the man I saw in Hlint was no other than Sinthar Bloodstone himself.[/i][/i]
   
  Something I can confirm as I spoke to him a few months later…[/i][/i]
   Looking up as his candle goes out Brac’ar decides to call it a night.