It’s been an… interesting few months, to say the least. Not least of which I curse the fact I had to begin a new diary- the old one ended up soaked. Nothing could be salvaged, alas. So I take fresh ink to fresh parchment- and do the best I can. These adventures have been chaotic, for all involved… And it all began at Threshold’s tavern- the Storm Crow.
The first I recall to arrive at that fateful place time, a draco-form whose name I have come to know as Silver. Draco-forms were something nearly unheard of- written off as mere legend- until I met one in the… flesh? Scales? Whichever it is. Even now, I recall the many details: Semi-brilliant scales adorning him top to bottom, somewhat contrasting tarnished and well-worn armor. Broadsword hanging freely on his back- backpack teeming with supplies by his side. He stood at a slight remove- something I frequently do myself, so I cannot fault him.
Silver was frosty, scaly, closed-off... However, the next to arrive overlooking everyone was his total opposite. Reminiscent of a goat, but mostly man, I came to know this person as Asriel- a storyteller of the gods. Lovely name, for a lovely sort. Ivory fur, immaculate and soft, tempted me a moment. Charm in abundance- paired with warmth rarely seen, it left me oddly drawn in. He was kind enough to introduce himself as a Keeper Of the Song- worshipping Tirestias, the legendary bard chronicling the tales of Havlav, Petra and Zyrchev. He went on to explain that he hailed from the Savage Coast, having come to the Duchy Of Karameikos on a holy pilgrimage.
Sitting at the table next, a pair of Genasi were the least dramatic of the group thus far. The height of the individual on the left, and both of them having dramatic hair struck people merely as unsual- not shocking. The one on the right introduced them both- he was Jordan, the other was Sera. Why he introduced both was some time ago, due to misfortune, Sera was rendered incapable of speech- a missing tongue and magically sewn-shut mouth would do that to an individual. However, they spoke in gestures and with a chalkboard; communication was possible, if difficult. Explaining further, the one called Sera was a ranger- a hunter forsaken, if one will. And he was an artificer- student of creation and destruction. Jordan, where Sera was closed-off [in large part due to misfortune and inability to vocally communicate] was more affable. When someone inquired about their unusual hair and eye colouring, Jordan bluntly explained [a trait we came to know well] they were Genasi. Not quite human, their ancestors mated with elementals a long time back- the bloodline diluted, until people like themselves came about. Jordan’s bloodline held Water Elemental essence, Sera’s Storm. Their story was simple enough; they’d been friends for quite some time, and recently having arrived in Karameikos from the Emirates Of Ylaraum.
Rounding out the group- a very young elven woman going only by the name of Nyx, sat at the table to Jordan’s other side. Immediately her beauty drew my eyes- a fair creature, with grace and elegance only elves possess. Lovely and sweet, she mentioned that she was well attuned to her blade- a Bladesinger, I believe. While young by elven standards- only a century and a half or so- the call of wanderlust and adventure drew her soul and her sword, to this time and place. Nyx hadn't had much experience in the outer world- so it took convincing to be here.
Even now, I still laugh as I recall the others’ reactions to myself. Few expect us Hin to be adventuring type. We tend to be half the height of others- the ‘Too-Talls’ as we say. But I also tend to hide- not only because of my height and light frame, but my… distinct colouring. From the first, I came into this world with eyes and hair amethyst in tone. None else in the Silverthorne family has such a thing; alas, it didn’t come with magic or anything special. Just unusual. Thankfully I’d not had far to travel- only from Kelven, just a couple days’ away. An acquaintance of mine pointed me here… But when I appeared, I startled a couple people. It was great.
The call in question, came from the Mayor of the town of Mirkos. He wanted a group of brave adventurers to traverse into the swamp not terribly far away; the goal, clear out a goblin infestation that had settled in and now terrorized the citizens. Simple enough- we accepted, and off we went. Travel there was fine- but the encounter itself… More than just the goblins tried to drive us away. The very air, the manor itself just felt… oppressive. But only I noticed it? Strange… As we travelled through, I knew we were in for something strange; encountering dread skeletons gave me my first clue. They held a familiar insignia- a mark belonging to the Kingdom Of the Thieves. Peculiar…
Little else really seemed to be amiss- we dealt with goblins, travelled through the manor. We’d encountered a beautiful cabinet filled with rich and decadent wines- and a hidden door. Even with my skill, I barely managed to open it. But I did manage- and we crawled through, discovering a beautiful-yet-hidden library. Libraries- always a place of fascination. Many secrets hide in the labyrinthe of knowledge… And the manor’s library proved no different. Inside this library, ornate books- as one expected. What I did not expect, however, were the outdated Kingdom codes. Codes that had not been utilized in ten years’ time! Also in the library- a pair of studded gloves. Tirania’s gloves- a legend of tales whispered in the deepest darkness… I kept them- since the group decided my ‘trap-master skills’ would benefit [I mean… they would. But that’s not the point]
We’d encountered a hidden bedroom- and a man in the bed, deeply asleep. My heart skipped a beat. Ice filled my veins. I recognized the man in the bed- Grandmaster Raven. The legend of the Kingdom- called in, only when all others had failed. He’d been missing for ten years… Nobody knew why. But all the pieces fell into place- and, horrified, I realized just where we were. Why everything seemed amiss. Still, we simply could not leave him there; after some trial and error, we pulled him from the room [the room was enchanted, with a deep sleep spell].
Grandmaster Raven had not aged a day. Damn, the man was beautiful- terrifying, but beautiful all the same. Confusion crossed his face, to see six unknown faces- but he saw the marks of my sling. Asked me why we were here. I explained in brief. He asked us to leave. Wisely, we did- but I lingered just a moment. To quietly inform him ten years had passed since his disappearance, and things were very different. He thanked me. I left. As we left, piles of goblin bodies piled up- it was best to let the Grandmaster work in peace. I decided to vanish for awhile… Having filched the items of someone like him meant you moved fast, before such things were discovered. Unknowingly, but it’s still not proper form. So ended our first adventure.
-
Our next adventure came near-immediately the first- arriving in a rather… unexpected manner. Upon our return to Threshold, we decided to rest for the night- as one is want to do. Returning to the Storm Crow, we sought to relax. The tavern was filled to the brim- whispers abundant. A place, known only by the mysterious name of Mistamere Manor, caught the townsfolk- and ourselves. Whispers abound that night- many enter, few return… and none could access the lower levels, or what many supposed was the library. It didn’t take long, but we cane to the conclusion that we should take a turn through the halls of Mistamere Manor, seeing if we could be the ones to unravel its many mysteries.
Going forth from Threshold, we made our way up the hill- to the ancient, long-abandoned manor. Disrepair met our eyes; the first sight being a deceased skeleton of some massive snake, desiccated with dust. It took considerable effort to enter; this is how we knew we would have trouble on our hands. While I cannot quite recall all that happened down to the finest detail, there were some amusing memories to be made. For example, I recall a bedroom, choked with dust. Sera had- unknown to us- fallen to the room’s charm; they simply walked to the bed, curled up in it, and fell asleep! It took Silver braving the room and fighting the magic to take Sera into the adjoining bedroom, to break its hold. Much light-hearted teasing about their ‘draco-form Prince Charming’ left them delightfully flustered. With time, we discovered the strangeness of the library- or rather, its sentient doors. Three in number and personality- an older cantankerous man, a quieter young man and a flirtatious woman. Each explained a special orb acted as their key- black for the older man, green for the younger man, pink for the woman. The orbs were locked away in magical crates- but their password seemingly lost to time…
I must confess, what occurred on which floor is a little blurred. Nor do I quite recall everything that happened. Dastardly traps, wily kobolds and peril encountered us at every bend. I recall a particularly dangerous and devious trap: In one of the rooms, a statue of a kobold with a swinging sword-arm would cut anyone who got too close… but that was not the worst part. Constructed of flint and flammable stone, the motion could have ignited it and caused it to explode! Patience, skill and perhaps a god looking kindly upon me meant I disabled it- barely. The stone had been rubbing away, and sparked… but did not ignite. A different room infested with kobolds saw Silver fall victim to their trap- oil in buckets perched above a door soaked the draco-form, which they set alight from a distance. Zombies, giant spiders, more kobolds… But those were not what turned us away
Gods, even now… that damned trap… I hated it then, I hate it not, I’ll hate it forever. Opening the door slammed a huge slab down. Closing the door reset it. Trouble was, there was no way to see how big the slab was from outside- nor a way to disable it. Silver, Nyx and myself volunteered to go inside; Asriel would wait with Sera and Jordan. This turned out to be a mistake... Going back in, set the trap off again, like we had expected. Unfortunately, the noise stirred up some Blister Beetles laying in a hole... and it cost Nyx her life. In the wake of that, I finally made sense of the trap- an extra set of hinges set it off, and it was controllable from inside. But there was little that we could do. Everyone was shaken; especially Silver, for some odd reason... That was when we decided to leave for the day. We held a candlelit vigil, and buried her with her sword, planting a tree in her honour- once we asked around for the best type of rite to perform.
Even now, the words etched on her tombstone fill my mind:
"Red like roses fills my head with dreams
And finds me always closer...
To the emptiness and sadness
That has come to take the place of you.
Rest In Peace, Nyx."
In the wake of the loss, we decided to regroup and recover from the shock. In that interim, a sassy pixie named Ivy came along. She was just there for a little while- but the real reason was hidden from the others, known only to myself.Ivy had been sent from the Guild- with a message to show her the ropes, as it were. Once more, we dove into the mansion- and some mysteries began to unravel. This time around, we encountered more. Ogres somehow had infiltrated the manor- I’d rather not think about that pain, from nearly being bludgeoned to death. [Bad blood takes a lot to die- even if my fellow Hin are the instigators of the hunts] We also encountered an ancient- and darkly beautiful- crystal wire trap, with the help of notes I had taken from Grandmaster Raven’s study. Even now that parchment exists in my book- it escaped the soaking. Random altars, a strange hallways of statues and yet more awaited. Within a tapestry room, an amusing moment took place. None of us could open a certain door- so Ivy simply shrunk it. Asriel was aghast, but the rest of us shared a good laugh! Well worth it for Sera- the door opened to a hidden armoury. Within, little of use... except for Viviana. A sentient elven war bow, that shoots arrows made of water. Sera was delighted by this find. A light-hearted moment, to the darker one that came soon after…
Going down an unexplored hall, we’d come to a strange room- with four doors inside. The instant I stepped inside, everything in my body froze, as I recognized the voice booming throughout. Him. How. How did he find me here?! That shouldn’t have been possible… I had not encountered him in years! What was he doing here, of all places?! To my later shame- and the perplexion of the others- I ran away in fear. Little did anyone know, lying in wait, a doppelganger was poised to strike. Alone and gripped with fear, I was quickly overpowered- tightly bound and gagged, before being thrown into a dark and confined space. It brought memories back…
Fortunately, they were quick to realize that all was not well- the doppelganger was slain, and I rescued from my predicament. Though I did receive a serious tongue lashing, before we returned to the room. Once again the voice called out- but Sera held onto me this time… Their embrace was firm, but not the deathly grip I expected. More… comforting; and soon enough, the voice faded. It was magic. Four doors scattered about the space- a person stepped inside one, closing it. By chance, most all of us chose the one that led to safety- and a breathtaking marble room. Jordan's life was taken- as he fell over a hundred feet to his death, landing in a spiked pit trap. Thankfully, Sera and I rescued his body- before a cleric in Threshold revivied him. It took us another night, before we returned.
In the end, though, the party managed to find the password, re-set it upon opening, access the library- and a wealth of information. The Ylaruam Desert was once a Forest- and the Huta'aken, a potential slave race, were driven away by the elves. They may exist in the mountains north of Highdell- as written by Sir Sandalvav, a name Asriel knows very well. Even more potent, a word was found on the map hanging on the wall... a word so powerful, traces of Immortal magic [magic of the Gods] resided on it. And they can't interfere on the Prime Material plane unless ALL of the gods- even the evil ones- agree. Alas, none of us can do anything- we cannot write it down; all attempts are erased! Just what had we encountered?!? Information on Blackmoore, Warforged, Beastmen and Knolls was also there. Sealing the library once more, Mistamere wound up ours.
-
Ivy decided to part ways with us at this point [she had been reassigned] so we celebrated her farewell. Morning came with Ivy’s last farewell- and a chance to… shall we say, part ways with the items acquired from Grandmaster Raven’s estate? When we set out for such endeavours, our group had little direction. Likely we would all turn our separate ways, with a story or two to well. But rest comes not for the adventuring spirit. Upon return, the innkeep delivered upon me a message. My cousin had passed through, leaving a message at the Storm Crow. It concerned my 'vacation taken some time ago' in Highdell... I chose not to mention it- not immediately. Asriel quickly saw through my facade, asking what was wrong. Gods, I rather hate being on the wrong end of the intuitive…
Determined to follow the lead given, but caught in a lie, I couldn't in any good conscience lead them into the heart of darkness that I knew lay ahead. Quiet in my tome, I did explain a message had come for me- it concerned some long standng personal affairs to settle in Highdell. They were going to be dangerous, if not outright deadly- and that I couldn’t let them get hurt on my behalf. So, if they wanted an out, they could take it. Oddly... they didn't even hesitate, just asked which way to go. The group also gained Keaton- an affable human Cleric, one who had sworn a vow of non-violence, but made for an excellent healer.
Fate, as always, had a strange way of twisting things. On the roads toward Highdell, we encountered a cleric in his death throes. Immediately I recognized the method of execution... He'd been turned into a blood angel, and lay in his dying throes. He was in the area... Poor man. The others looked suitably horrified. Though, it led us to a time sensitive deviation- the man and Keaton worshipped the same deity, Chardastes. And the Bell of Chardastes, stolen some time ago, had been found- in a dungeon that shifts dimensions. Naturally, the group ran to the temple- knowing the man could not be saved. He knew it too; the Bell was all that mattered.
The dungeon itself was unusual- a near-black, iron building- looking akin to a black dragon with its mouth open, poised to strike. Entering the dungeon, the spiral layout was disorienting- full of false Bells, perilous traps, dangerous creatures. One room was... amusingly horrible? Inside, a statue of Chardastes was in the middle of being defiled by... something. And that something, well... It attacked us, by way of spewing molten lava from its penis. Keaton and Asriel were not amused [Sera and I, for the severity of the situation, could not stop snickering]. We also encountered unholy whip-wielding priests, and an electrified statue of a charging bull. Personally, the highlight for me was watching Silver and Asriel trying to sneak past a sleeping drake- by wrapping up in cloaks, stopping in their tracks if it stirred.
Eventually, we had arrived to the heart of the spiral- taking on Elwyn, the traitorous Priest who stole the Bell- and some... flying creatures, of a sort. Sticky, dark, tar-like things with wings. Very strange. Upon the claiming of the Bell, the building began to collapse. But a secondary, secret corridor opened- we ran, barely escaping with our lives. As the building collapsed in the early sunset, all of us escorted Keaton and the Bell back to Threshold- pausing only to bury the unfortunate man, horrifyingly murdered by a terrible sadist. In Threshold, a procession of priests awaited news- and much rejoicing came, with reclamation of the Bell. Keaton was hailed as a hero- but he had to escort the priests to Specularum, helping safeguard the Bell and lending his healing talents. Plus the higher-ups would wish to meet this hero, who risked life and limb for such.
Given the late hour, we decided to get a drink, stay the night in the town. And try again in the morning. Thankfully, I know of a place…
Author's Note: The word we found in that library? Nithia. Despite their best efforts, the words cannot be written down- only memorized.