Journal of Kobal Bluntaxe

[Harlas Ravelkione]

Hargranar and I packed our gear in the room that we had rented at the inn. There was not much talk. We both knew that entering the ranks of the Silent Axe might mean that we would be forced to do things that we would not want to do. I knew that I would go far to accomplish my goal and discover the location of my true home. However, I did not wish to force Harg into something. Again, I knew that he would be alright. His faith in Vorax was strong as ever and if a choice would have to be made that meant crossing a boundary to Harg we would face the consequences together.    We set out towards the Singing Forest. I wanted to see Violet before entering Yegar’s fold.
  We arrived at the Dreamer’s Sanctum in a late afternoon. The sun was just setting as we were let in by one of the younger Dreamers; her name escapes me now. It was good to see Violet again. Her presence warmed me and I felt better during my stay in their new home than I had felt for some time. Violet invited us to stay for a dinner and then for the night. Harg did also choose to become a Holder and spend most of the evening with a young Dreamer, getting to know her better. We were told that we could always visit their Sanctum. Their home is also our home, Violet told us. During my stay I was again confronted with my feelings for Violet. I am sure that she felt it. I am her Holder after all and we are connected in a way I still do not fully grasp. Perhaps my feelings are a result of that connection. Perhaps it is nothing more than that… then again, who am I fooling?
After dinner Violet presented us with gifts. Harg received a powerful axe. A weapon connected to him personally in some way. As long as his path is true the weapon will prove true to him. But I sense a danger from it as well. However, since it was Violet who passed it to him it cannot be that bad and I trust that Harg will prove worthy. I was given a helmet. It is an extraordinary piece of craftsmanship. A magically imbued pattern of gold and silver covers it completely, giving it powers beyond mere protection. I guess I will discover those for myself over time.  It was already late when I asked Violet for a favour. I asked her if she could reach out for Yegar and tell me about his dreams. I had a feeling that if Yegar in truth was Tathus Richvein this could endanger Violet due to the curse placed on him, so I asked her to pull away if she sensed danger. She agreed on these terms and entered the dream…
  "Peace is shattered in the dream with a sudden burst of violent imagery and a constant need to seek and find, a great red void sits in the centre of the dream, huge and demanding and aching to be filled. Corpses of thousands are thrown into the deep red hole, never filling it. Victims of rape and mutilations fall and pile into the hole. The ache increases and the images shade and flicker, becoming harsh and urgent, a brief flash of a man lowering a bucket into a hole flickers into being, the bucket withdraws fall of a fierce red energy. More an more atrocities add, the search goes on seeming to span lifetimes and lifetimes. On the horizon a golden band appears, it rises into the sky and an intense longing fills your every fibre, a desire to possess this golden band. It rises ever higher and higher until it fills the centre of the sky, a hand riddles with disease raises to reach for it, straining. Each step closer seems to remove some of the disease from the hand, yet the hand never reaches it. The constant urge to seek becomes intolerable. The flower shatters and waves of spite and unfathomable power flow from the whole, once more a bucket and man appears. Yet this time the man is no man but a skeletal finger rejoicing in the retrieval of the fierce red glow."  
  At that point the dream burst and I regained my awareness. However, as I came clear of the dream I felt the intense power of the corruption within me. Never before had I felt such immense power. Fortunately I was able to drive it away after a small lingering moment.
Violet’s fist words after returning from the dream still lie heavily on my mind: “What has touched him is fearsome beyond comprehension.”  I spent the night pondering the dream. I believed that the disease (the red hole, too deep to fill) is the curse. Gaining what he seeks (the golden band in the dream), he believes shall remove the disease/curse.  The man with the bucket. Does he take from the hole as Yegar fills it? Thereby never allowing it to fill? The golden band. Could it be the Thane’s Ring? If that is truth of it then Yegar must have lost it.
  In the morning we packed out gear and headed towards Xora’s Tower, following the directions of the seemingly mad dwarf of Yegar’s Silent Axe.

[Harlas Ravelkione]

The road ended near Xora’s Tower. From there we walked on paths that were difficult to follow towards the mountains and the base of Yegar’s Silent Axe mercenaries.
  Our trip brought us past a settlement in a valley among the foothills of the mountains. There a varied group of people had recently set up camp and had begun to erect houses and prepare the soil for crops. I judged that our destination was not far away and I grew uneasy at the thought of these settlers so near the Silent Axe. From the stories I had heard in Pranzis I knew that nothing good would come from neighbouring the mercenaries, so I decided to follow a gut feeling that told me to make these people break camp and move on. I cannot say what made me draw this conclusion. It was just that the valley was perfect for settling down, building a farm and live of the gifts that nature provides. Why had no one else settled here long ago? There had to be a reason.
  I told Harg about my sense of foreboding and he agreed that it would be good if we could talk them into moving on. I approached several of the people, but none of them wanted to listen. Eventually I discovered that they were following the lead of one man. This tall, tanned and strong man had the looks of a soldier or adventurer… and more. I asked him to talk his people into leaving and explained to him our reasons for making this strange request. He told me that he was not their leader and refused to leave the valley. I replied that he was, whether he liked it or not and asked him if he wished to be responsible for their deaths? Finally he came around and told the people that it would be safer to move on. However, he would stay and fight if necessary. I acknowledged his decision and we moved on, hoping that we would never again see these people.
 
 
Harg and I arrived at the foot of the mountain and began our climb up a trail that lead us along a chasm and over ragged and dangerous ground Finally we arrived at a fort carved into the side of the mountain. From high walls we were hailed and the gate was opened. Out came fierce looking guards who quickly recognized the braids we had attached to our helmets and lead us inside a heavily fortified town. The dwarven town was small and functional. It was geared for warfare with an armoury and a forge, weapons bristling from it menacingly. All homes were fortified in a very skilled and practical manner. Guards lead us to the centre of town where 4 columns had been erected around a large circular slab, carved out of solid granite. On this slab a seat was placed and in it sat a dwarf who studied us carefully as we approached his seat. Yegar was nothing like I had expected. Yes, he was a scarred dwarf who had seen countless battles, sturdy and strong like a mountain, his gaze not once wavering, his stare unyielding. However, additionally he had the appearance of a Lord of dwarves. He carried himself with an unseen grace and authority that commanded obedience. My doubts left me. This was a King of my people. This was Tathus Richvein.  Then he began to speak to us and my hopes wavered. He spoke to us about failure and death. He offered us meat from a roast in his fire and told us that the flesh came from the last dwarf who failed him. I did not once doubt his words. His eyes and words were like spears piercing my armour of courage. Finally I agreed to prove myself to him and his Silent Axe, so that I might become a member.

[Harlas Ravelkione]

My hunch proved to be right. Yegar's way of checking our loyalty was to send us back the way we had come. He ordered us to attack the settlement we had passed on our way to him. We were to kill the men, burn the houses and bring him the women. He sent his son and 6 warriors with us to make sure we kept our word. Yegar’s son was more a beast than a dwarf. A dwarf who takes pride in destroying the lives of others and who enjoys suffering and causing pain to others. We named him the Giggler because of his insane giggling. Harg and I left the town together with the Giggler and his warriors and after a few hours of marching we arrived at the settlement. We saw that someone had hastily erected barricades and dug holes to make a frontal assault a costly undertaking. As we approached the barricade a man came out of a house and took a position at the barricade. He was clad in full plate, helmet and carried a sword and shield. I knew that he must be the man I had talked to earlier and I thought feverishly about what I could do. What options did I have besides fighting the man? I could not think of any. So I told Harg to stay back and charged. We fought for a long time. He was a master swordsman and held his stance without faltering. My arms had begun to feel heavier than ever when I finally managed to strike at his knee and he let down his guard. I killed him with a decisive blow to his head.  What had I done? I had no chance to contemplate this because suddenly a woman was running at us from one of the houses. She threw herself on top of the lifeless body of the man I had killed, crying out in pain caused by her loss. Harg reacted quickly and knocked her out. I picked her up and shouldered her before the Giggler could get his dirty hands on her. It was when I turned to pick up my axe that I took a closer look at the shield the warrior had carried. On it the symbol of Rofirein had skilfully been painted in bright colours. I had slain a warrior of the Protector. Not only had I killed a good man, I had killed a follower of my god. How could I ever repent for such an act?
 
 I snapped out of it when the Giggler showed us forward, on a trail that would bring us back to the dwarven settlement and Yegar. Time passed too swiftly then, as I was trying to devise a plan that would at least save the girl from Yegar’s grasp. However, the Giggler and his warriors watched us at all times and nothing could be attempted without notice. I looked to Harg and received no guidance in the matter. I decided that no faith was worse than to be ravaged by Yegar and his men, only to be killed afterwards. I made a choice that will haunt me forever, together with a score of other nightmares visiting me in the darkness of the night.
  Where sleep brings peace to most, I have come to dread it. Again and again I have watched our party back then slay the monks for the chausible of Rofirein. Now I will slay that warrior a thousand times… and drop this woman to her death down a chasm alongside the mountain trail. A death not felt by her is a death, still. Not ravaged and mangled beforehand, it was still a death I dealt – one I must shoulder. A death that chains me. Those chains have become a burden I no longer can easily manage. I drag the souls of those I have killed behind me. Some weigh heavier than others, but they are all there. For how long can I continue forward? When will the pull become too much?
At least for a little while longer. I must accomplish this, or everything will have been for nothing.  
Yegar was not pleased. He questioned me regarding the abandoned village and the remaining defender. I gave him no answer that pleased him and he decided that his son was to be punished for this failure. What most of all angered him was the fact that we did not deliver a woman to him. So I told Yegar that that particular failure was mine, and mine alone.  I had anticipated punishment… but commanding my most loyal friend to cut the tendons in the back of my knees was not one of them. Harg had no choice in the matter, and I do not blame him. I wonder though, how far a dwarf can fall from grace. What made Tathus become the beast Yegar?
  When I awoke after unconsciousness had let go of me I noticed that Harg had mended my legs somewhat. Harg told me that Yegar had not been satisfied with Harg’s work and had further damaged my legs himself. Harg had try to mend them as best he could, but his skills were lacking. I told him I bore no grudge towards him for this. I made the choice to drop the woman and faced the consequences, as I knew I would have to do.
 
Harg fashioned my crutches and I was able to walk around, so we set out to learn more…