This is the 27th message I have sent you since becoming a citizen of Lopan. I have a feeling that this message will be recorded in the books of CrIsis so I shall be a bit more formal than I have been of late. We have finally finished the gauntlet of that rapscallion Mangy Carl, and have recovered the piece of Osiris that was stolen from us.
Still, it boggles my mind that I was unable to react to what I saw happening, but I have gone into detail with you about that previous action. In continuation of the journey under the city, we quickly realized that the statues were nothing of the sort. The casting of an Anti-Magic Cloud in the confines of the room should have told everyone that something was up, but nothing would have prepared us for the truth of what had actually been crafted here in this room in what appears to have once been a thriving dwarven city.
The dwarves had devised a series of wheels with fingers that stick out in all directions and link with the fingers of other wheels. Apparently, in this manner you can transfer the motion of one wheel to another without losing any of the motion of the first wheel.
These…devisings were put together in such a way that the statues, completely filled with these finger-wheels, were able to come to a semblance of life. Without magic, they were able to create a golem. A golem that had lain here for eons and was still active.
I rely upon the fact that the books change the locations and names in our journeys for the following information. We have found another demon blade. Even here I shan’t be telling you the maner of it’s disguising, or where we hid it, but we did put nineteen death wards on the chest, and included a statement that it is death to open the chest.
After finishing with the room of Statues that Work…workings? Yes, I will call these workings if I ever run into them again. After that room, the rest of the dungeon was anti-climax, even if we treated it as more than it was. We are getting too paranoid it would seem, seeing shadows jumping in all directions.
Take Mangey Carl for example. He had been a part of our enemies. He was a former member of ReSet, and yet he’d worked with us, provided a way that he could feel comfortable working with the ‘good guys.’ He is a villain, and for some poor adventurer in the future, I’m sure he will be The Villain, but for us, he was willing to put that aside because he needs balance in this world.
U’Selekma was right, that even in the darkness there is some light. None of us are without emotions and beyond the need of comfort once in a while.
Carl relayed to us that he was the cause of Overkill’s death. Knowing what I do about that moment, that Overkill had a choice to make before that moment that could have saved his life, I do not blame Carl. Overkill had all the tools he needed to prevent a senseless death.
Honeysuckle the former mistress of Overkill and former pirate extraordinaire, has convinced two more former members of the Redbeard’s crew to head home. She is living up to her reputation and I find it hard to fault her for her actions with Overkill. It would seem that there is much blame that can be laid on Overkill’s slate, and I truly pray for his soul when the keeper of the dead is once again placed upon his rightful throne.
So, we were asked to visit the palace here in Caer Itom. It would have been good if all of us could go, but that was not to be. We had to enter in our real form, and the Minotaur was asked not to come at all. The two elves and the human went in to represent CrIsis. They did us proud, only being involved in an almost tussle, not even a significant one at that.
We were put up in the Ivory Royal Inn, a name that could have been invented by our master of the ludicrous on the spot, in order to await the day of our appearance before the Mountain. Making use of my new found power I have begun again to scribe spells in preparation of our future travels. Now that I am able to cast even the largest of the spells I know I am less reliant upon them, but even so, the ability to scribe spells into scroll form, to save them for future need, makes me feel much more at ease with our trip.
Apis send me strength and knowledge that these preparations will be enough to prevent future death among my friends in CrIsis.
Early on the 27th of this month, the events that just previously occurred. Screaming awoke us in the dark of the night. For once in a long time, CrIsis acted with a common purpose. We cast beneficial spells on one another, treating those others in the group as our extensions of will and not just a loose collection of people thrown together by fate.
We ran down the stairs, Fleet of Feet, and ready for anything. Even without the warning we might normally have given, we found ourselves flat footed to the assault of the opposing force. The attacked Caminata and Burlap brutally, almost striking Burlap to the ground in a single blow. A wicked gleam entered the eyes of our diminutive member, a man greater in stature than I, and he began to cackle in the most spine tingling manner. A couple of our members were almost shaken by the creepy laughter and all but one of our opponents were fully shaken by the sound of the ludicrous ones voice.
Xerx’ses then stuck them to the ground with his sticky carpet. The lone individual not completely bewildered and frothing because of the laughter was stuck tight. The magic net and fairy dance that came after were simply icing on the cake. From a potential of lost of life on our end we turned it into a complete massacre, and massacre I mean.
We slaughtered those fellows, former tribe mates of Xerx’ses who had turned on the light. Cami, Nosse and I ate the hearts of our victims to prevent the dark from sending them once more against us. I fear that I may have taken some of their darkness within me, but more I worry that it was darkness that already existed within myself.
Picture from The Quillcards Blog