Erastus 4708

I sit in the stillness of third watch with a peace I’ve not felt for many moons. We have returned to the house of Zellara. It still seems to be the safest place for us right now. Lilia, Imp, and Adhemar retired to their rooms long ago. Niko has fallen asleep over his books, Destrel is asleep nearby (honestly, I don’t know how she manages to do that), and my beloved sister, Fea, has gone into meditation to rest. I’m too astonished by the current turn of events to rest, though I realize we must all be alert for our last journey together tomorrow, our last bid to defeat the queen.

We sneaked into the castle as planned, but things went downhill fast. Thanks to the quickness and bravery of Adhemar, I’m still alive, but it was a close thing. I had followed Lilia to the roof and suddenly something knocked me off my feet and all I could see were shades of grey. The others have told me that the devil who hit me appeared out of nothing and suddenly I was dead. Well, mostly. All I remember is waking up to see Adhemar peering worriedly at me and bleeding profusely from a cut over his eye. He had risked life and limb to get to me and bring me back.

I don’t remember much of that day. As a matter of fact most of our time in the castle has gone by in a blur and I’m only now catching up with it. We simply didn’t have much time to stop. (I had flashbacks of Scarwall a few times.) I know we rested at least once, holed up in what we hoped was the safest room in the castle at that point, a closet smelling strongly of vinegar.

At various points we fought Red Mantis assassins, Grey Maidens, devils, imps, and a few things I didn’t even get to see. (Being mostly dead will do that to you.) There seemed to be more devils in Castle Korvosa than in Hell, and the proof we found of the queen’s involvement, a contract between her and the devils of Asmodeus, explained why. After a thoroughly annoying and quite disturbing fight with Togomor’s minions (I really hate the ethereal plane), we picked a fight with some Grey Maidens while Niko hurled fireballs at the gate to get everyone’s attention.

While we were fighting inside the castle, others were fighting elsewhere in the city. We were met at the gate by Commander Kroft, Sabina Merrin, and a brigade of former Gray Maidens. We left Togomor to them and ventured back into the castle to clear the remaining rooms and try to find Dhatri and the body of a ghost we’d met the night before. On our way back inside Lilia and I noticed a suspiciously familiar tiny figure clinging to the back of a copper dragon that was diving into the grounds of the Academae. We glanced at each other and kept going in a I-won’t-mention-this-if-you-won’t kind of manner.

We did find Dhatri, his body hideously tortured and powering a disturbing contraption that attacked until Lilia pulled his body from it. We wrapped him in a cloak and left him in a quiet corner until we could retrieve his body later. Further exploration led us to Togomor’s quarters and a kitchen inhabited by yet more devils. The rest of us let the paladins gang up on them while we attacked from a distance. They were soon dispatched and we continued on the first floor. I found a door leading deeper into the Castle, into what was quite likely the original pyramid that had once stood on that location. On that level we found evidence of more of the queen’s recent actions and the body we sought.

We brought the body back to the gentleman whose ghost inhabited an upper floor. He was the brother of the King and last of the Arabasti line. He thanked us and offered us one last gift.

As we watched, Zellara’s Harrow deck floated from Adhemar’s bag into the air around the ghost and encircled his head. The deck glowed as he infused it with a magic I’ve never seen or even heard of and the very souls of the Korvosan kings merged with the deck. We were to choose up to four cards. Some contained good fates; others bad, depending upon the nature of the soul inhabiting it. Adhemar bravely chose three which benefited him and me to an extent (one of his choices extended an extra card to a friend) and, I believe, will serve him well. My “extra” card gave me two visions – one true, the other false. I will say only that they involved the two most beloved people in my life and both were heart-wrenching, but they aided me greatly. I chose to draw two cards. One was the gift of a wish; the other was the gift of a re-forged weapon. What to wish for? The conditions were specific, and they included resurrection. It was agony. I never wanted anything more in my life but to bring back my sister, but what if she didn’t want to come back? Surely, she would have gone on, finding her Brightness somewhere along Pharasma’s road. I waited to find out the fate of the others, but my head was whirling with hope and anguish and I heard but a little of what their cards contained. Apparently, Niko is now a were-bear and has some kind of demonic disease. Of all the party he fared the worst, but is actually quite cheerful about it, bless him. He doesn’t seem to be dismayed easily, to be sure. Finally, after considering the visions I entreated Adhemar to come with me to the grave of my sister. I wished to speak to her before I attempted to bring her back, and I knew he had the ability to allow me to do that. Her answers to my questions were cryptic, but revealing and they told me enough to convince me to use my wish to resurrect her.

I’m still dazed. She’s here, she’s whole, and my life, though dramatically changed, is complete again. Indeed, it is richer. Had I not chosen to pursue the slave ship, I’d never have met Farrell or the allies I’ve met here in Korvosa. There are still duties I must now fulfill here, as I’ve given my word to Orisini, but I’ll take Fea home first.

Speaking of duties… it seems Korvosa is now without a ruling monarch (or, at least, soon will be). Neolandus has proposed to the noble Houses that Lilia take the throne. (This is, of course, assuming she lives through our attempt to defeat the queen.) I must admit, she is capable. The miracle pulled off by her want-to-be page, Brianna, however, swayed the argument not a little. In Castle Korvosa remained a chapel devoted to Aroden. For slightly more than a century it has been untouched, unused, except as a shrine to memory. Brianna knelt at the alter and prayed. As she did so, the stained glass symbols and holy figures began to change. Before our eyes the chapel had been transformed into a Temple devoted to Iomedae, the Inheritor, and Lilia’s chosen goddess. It was certainly beautiful.
The talk soon turned to politics, and, though I listened carefully, it bored me.

Lilia talked long into the afternoon with Neolandus and while Adhemar took care of needed duties at the Vaults, I spent time with Fea expounding on all that had happened since she’d died. I spent the better part of an hour justifying my decision to bring her back until she stopped me and thanked me for doing so. While we continue the last of our journey tomorrow, Fea will be in the care of Vencarlo Orisini, one of the few I trust in the city. He’s an old charmer, and it will do her well to remember the good in humans. Too long has the Ekujae tribe been hunted, haunted, and tormented by the humans of the Aspis Consortium (though the humans of Garund tend to tolerate us).

I must rest. There is still much to do, and there is still the matter of the queen. Her terrorization and manipulation of Korvosa must end, and that is in our hands now.

The storm blew up from the over the Inner Sea as the twilight faded. The thunder is so intense that I can feel it from the window next to which I’m sitting. Each flash of lightning throws Korvosa into a sharp, surreal bas-relief. Our accomplishments of the last few days seem insignificant compared to the task ahead.

We have exposed and defeated Trifaccia, the false hero, who turned out to be an efreeti. (He turned Niko into a pig temporarily. I think that amused Lilia slightly.) The black dragon has been defeated. Sabine Merrin has turned away from her queen and her eyes burn when she speaks of the woman she thought she knew. She is now with us in hiding. The resistance is growing; Korvosa’s people are awakening to the fact that they are strong. Yet in all of this it is understood that the defeat of the queen falls on our shoulders – certainly on Lilia’s, as it is she who holds Seritihiel. It has now come to it.

Tomorrow is the beginning of the end; we shall enter the castle. How it will end is anyone’s wager, but we shall see it through or die. Though we knew it would eventually come to this, I cannot help but sense in myself a strange disquiet. The rain on the window plays odd tricks with the reflections from the candles and more than once I could swear to Pharasma I’ve seen my sister’s face. Her presence is with me like a chill tonight and her voice echoes on the wind - perhaps as a warning, or perhaps as a welcoming. I know not.

Tomorrow I shall find out.

After our experiences in the Cinderlands and Scarwall, facing a squad of Gray Maidens was hardly a problem. They were on patrol in the usual formation so I used the wand of web to great effect. Only two escaped the net, leaving the others to struggle free. While they were so engaged, I lobbed a flask of Alchemist’s Fire neatly into the center of it. The two who were free swung at me and missed. In less than a few minutes I was able to dispatch all but one whom I left to go free. I could hear the cries of the populace around me, and as the rest of the company approached I slipped through the crowd, figuring to lose myself in it. I ran for a few blocks and then slipped into a doorway to gauge the situation. There was smoke rising from the area I’d just left.

I did the only thing I could think of and used my new cloak to bring me closer to the scene in a hurry. While it wasn’t on the doorstep, it was still close enough for me to realize that the entire company of twenty or so Gray Maidens was now engaged – with my companions. So, of course, I joined the fray. We were able to take them all down, though Destrel was fiercely injured. I was told later that after the company commander had killed the Maiden I’d let go, the order was given to burn every other house. It was unnerving. I’ve become so used to the noble efforts of my companions that I’d almost forgotten about the spite and deceitfulness of some humans.

We rested for a bit after getting back to the house, but were summoned to a meeting by Glorio Arkona. None of us were enthusiastic about seeing him again, but we went. We shadow-walked to Old Korvosa (I’m really enjoying the fact that we have a wizard among us) and were followed to the courtyard (the elephant looked smaller in daylight). Arkona was expecting us. In fact, he gave us an entire run-down of our activities since leaving Korvosa. From the looks on the faces of my companions I could see that they were as disconcerted as I was.

Without further ado Arkona requested that we back him in his bid to claim the throne of Korvosa. While his influence over Old Korvosa had certainly brought peace, it was the type of peace where fear is the dominant factor. We would be replacing one tyrant with another, a fact he knew we understood. The conversation was going smoothly and I actually thought he was going to allow us to leave in spite of our disagreements when he attacked.

I’m afraid I was hardly as effective in this fight as in the last one. I barely scratched the rakshasa I managed to hit and only just dodged out of his way. He spoke some word I didn’t quite catch and the elephant trumpeted to life. I managed to assist Niko (who is really amazingly good with fireballs) in taking out the human mercenaries while the others did their best with the rakshasas and the elephant. Soon there was only Arkona and two of the rakshasas left when the two suddenly disappeared. That was not well for Glorio, though, since we simply lobbed everything at our only remaining visible target and let Niko deal with the other two. I wasn’t able to do much more than try to hit him with a wand of enervation, but blew five charges without managing to clear his resistance to magic. Imp and Lilia eventually put him down, though Imp delivered the killing blow. Niko managed to overcome the remaining rakshasas with a fire ray to the back. I’m seriously worried about that boy’s pyromaniacal tendencies.

Of course the next thing to do was clear (i.e. raid and loot) the house for evidence of Arkona’s misdeeds (or of anyone else’s, really). We finally found it although I took ton of damage from a spell that tried to prevent me from entering the room. I’ve no wish to repeat the experience. We also found what Niko believes is the secret of Arkona's continued observance of us, a type of scrying-stone, but he says he'll have to do a bit more research. Once we cleared out the house, Lilia found Arkona’s former lieutenant and charged him with taking care of Old Korvosa in the interim. Her judicious choice of words convinced him that she was not someone he wanted to cross so he agreed. We shadow-walked back into Korvosa.

It hadn’t been two hours since we arrived back at Zellara’s when Majenko showed up. I was actually glad to see him; life seemed less exciting without his presence. He has been quite the diplomat lately, and has procured a meeting with another Korvosan of some importance – a dragon. I wondered about all the rumors lately and kept my mouth shut. Lilia and I decided to go. Majenko gave us instructions and left. I think his new duties suit him, but I miss him. Funny how annoying someone can be until he’s no longer around.

Sarenith 4708

Finally!! We’ve left Scarwall for the day and retreated a short distance where Adhemar set up the Bone Tower that Sial left us. It’s about time; I’m starving! I’ve managed a short bath before dinner after helping Destrel dress such game as can be found here, and we’ll shortly be eating dinner though none among us will mention who’s doing the cooking. Perhaps after dinner I'll be able to start a letter to Farrell; lately, all I've had time for are these short journal entries. Still, they're enough to clear my head.

Horkin and Majenko were delighted to meet us as we crossed back over the bridge, but I’m no fool to think that Majenko is even slightly fond of me; he just wants fish. He’ll have to wait a little longer; I’m not sure eating fish from the lake out there is a good idea.

After we rode back up the neat levitating mist, we decided to back-track and get through some of the areas we’d left when we discovered the Star Tower. Most of the rooms were rather innocuous, old living quarters, and such, housing a few ghosts who learned the valuable lesson of not hanging around when two paladins and a priest are around, especially when one of said paladins is wielding an especially hurtful sword. I finally got to hit a few of those ghosts myself.

We ventured down another set of stairs and through a hallway. A set of double doors led us into an altar room. It was mostly dim, but I was able to discern the now-too-familiar statue of Zon-Kuthon just behind a raised obsidian altar. On the altar were heaps of ash that I suspected had once been bone, but I didn’t give it much thought since I was busy assessing the value of the gems studding the eye sockets and teeth of the skull before me. As I did so, it flared to life. Of course, when a Kuthite skull suddenly animates next to one, one’s first reaction is to hit it. This I promptly did, though it didn’t seem to do as much good as I’d intended. However, the others followed my lead and attacked it as well. Adhemar informed that it was a good thing we took it out before it got us. He stepped up and poured Holy Water all over it. The skull was a demilich which could have claimed our souls. As if there were not enough soul-sucking fiends in this place. There was a definite lessening in the feeling of oppressive evil as the thing died. I surmise that perhaps it was one of the anchors mentioned in Zellara’s poem.

After looting the room, we back-tracked again through the kennels and up a set of stairs that led to a further corridor and another door that appeared to lead into a tower. We chose to explore the tower first and were immediately set upon by fiery war-hounds. They unleashed by breathing fire and I was thankful that Old Thorval spent so much time coaching me in my youth to learn to dodge such attacks. At least I got lots of practice with my bow. It was a grueling fight, but we managed to kill them finally. We continued our explorations after that.

Soon after that we ran into what was apparently a zombie, and a loud one at that. His warhammer nearly deafened us as it hit. It hit Lilia first and hit her hard. I sneaked behind him and pierced his underarm with my rapier but didn’t do quite as much damage as I thought it would. He then jumped away and attacked Destrel. We kept up with him, though, and boxed him into a corner to take him down.

We continued climbing up, but didn’t find anything more in this tower, or at least nothing that moved, which was all that interested me. At this point everyone agreed it was time to stop for the day. The thundering hammer was especially annoying and I for one will hear the ringing for quite some time.

Dinner smells good. I’m going to pretend it’s not being served by someone in serious need of an undertaker.

I used to love to sit on the porch with my sister watching the twilight descend, listening to the afternoon give way to night. In the shadow of Scarwall even the memory has faded into the ever-present darkness. Not night, for that implies a following day which is absent from Scarwall castle. I’ve lost all track of the passage of time; we’ve simply kept moving from room to room, though my body reminds me I haven’t eaten in a while. We simply have had no time to stop.

After dispatching the dragon we explored the stables. It appeared that the dragon had made that area part of his lair. Once we finished we moved on to the further side of the courtyard and were immediately attacked by shadows. Yes, shadows. Damn things were difficult to hit, and they cost Adhemar his life. It’s fortunate that Sial has been so willing to restore to my companions their lives, though he claims that Adhemar now owes him a diamond. I’m sure Adhemar feels grateful that Sial didn’t ask for his soul to be given to Zon-Kuthon.

Further corridors revealed old barracks and storage rooms until we discovered an old ballroom and yet another … thing. I’m not certain how to describe it and really couldn’t try because almost as soon as we saw it, most of us started dancing. Yeah. Dancing. I felt like a fool. Apparently, it didn’t catch Destrel in its grip because she shot it in the eye rather neatly, but in doing so tipped her hand and the thing responded by injuring her badly. After a few fruitless attempts to convince Imp to dance, I found myself being rather forcefully grabbed by Lilia and edged ever closer to the wall. It wasn’t until she practically growled at me to stay put that I realized the compulsion was no longer on me and I readied my bow, such help as it could be. By then Destrel had done more damage, as had Sial. Eventually we were able to kill it, but several of us will be sore for weeks after dancing. We then searched the area and in the grand tradition of pirates everywhere, looted everything we found.

We rested briefly and carefully resumed our explorations and moved on to the second floor. Several types of manifestations appeared and were either dispatched or avoided as need would have it. We stepped into the hallway that appeared to be the upper floor of the courtyard and decided to explore the rooms behind the door to our north. It was heavy oak, solid, and ominous. Sial and Laori were praying as they saw it which unnerved me slightly. It took a while for me to unlock it and still it wouldn’t budge until Lilia threw her full strength into it. Lilia, who either knows not the meaning of fear or has a death wish, led the way as we moved slowly from room to room.

Most were empty, apparently administrative rooms, until we discovered a private alter to Zon-Kuthon. A mummy inhabited the room and attacked just as Adhemar and Lilia stepped into the room. Adhemar was hurt badly, Niko delightedly dropped a fireball into the room, and Laori danced into the fray. I didn’t get the chance to do much except check for traps and such in the room after the fighting was done.

I found a door behind the alter, and after taking a few minutes to figure out the locking mechanism, opened it. Sial paused in his chanting to look at me.

“You opened the Star Tower?” He asked me. “You opened the Holy of Holies?” I shrugged, hoping to appear unconcerned.

“Apparently.” I said. Sial was impressive at times but was also consistently condescending which annoyed me to no end.

“You should have locked it better.” Lilia pointed out, earning her another glare from Sial, and we all entered. The place had obviously not been opened in some time, though it had the look of being occupied. Such was evidently not the case at the present time, however, since all that was left of the tenant was a large pool of blood. Sial was deeply concerned which scared the hell out of me. It seems that the occupant of the tower was tasked in the role of Curate, which was to maintain the Star Spire of Zon-Kuthon. Basically, the Spire was built as part of the stitching imprisoning Rovagug. Without its Curate the Spire was no longer protected meaning that the prison was not as effective. In an effort to quell the nausea I felt at the prospect of even thinking of the possibility of his escape, I checked the rest of the floor. All other rooms on this level of the tower were empty, and two sets of stairs remained untried. We decided to go downstairs first.

The lower room had an organic feel, as if the room itself were breathing, and as we descended into it, a voice manifested a greeting. It was a quietly commanding voice, one that hides a great deal of power, though it was cordial as it asked which of us was to assume the role of curate. We immediately turned to Sial and Laori, the two most obvious choices. They were conversing rather intently, though quietly, and after a few minutes it was obvious that Sial had dominated as Laori bowed her head and gave in. I almost felt sorry for her. Not much, though.

Sial was invited personally by Zon-Kuthon to testify to Laori’s faith and installment as Curate. It was at this point that they left us. Sial bade us goodbye in turn. To Adhemar he entrusted the task of conveying the Midnight’s Teeth to the Temple of Zon-Kuthon, in return for waiving his debt to Sial for raising him and even handed him his Bone Tower in loan. His parting words to me were rather offensive, but somehow they amused me rather than angering me. Through all his pomp, arrogance, and bluster, Sial betrayed the fact that his true perception of us, colored through his own prejudices, was shallow and pale. Somehow it was a comforting thought.

After the clerics’ departure the telepathic entity informed us that we need not fear Zon-Kuthon’s retribution while in the tower. It seems the god wants only the return of the Teeth and would not hinder us in our quest for the sword. The entity then directed us to the shaft in the center of the room from which emanated an eerie glow and warned us to expect trouble from the Spawn who stole it. I was afraid of that.

So, into the shaft we went, and, boy, did I fall. It was a wonder that any of my bones were left whole. Lilia kindly held back to heal me while the others explored the room, though there was little here to see. Still somewhat sore, I followed the others through the twisting tunnels until they opened into a wider cavern. It was at this inopportune moment that the Spawn were alerted to our presence, mainly because Niko bounded forward to see what the things were. He paled as he realized what they were, warned us of their ability to rend, and unsuccessfully tried to get out of the way as one attacked him. My ability with a bow is lacking and I’m afraid I only scratched them, but Lilia, Imp, Destrel, and Niko took out three of them and the other fled back to its warren. Niko had entirely too much fun hurling fireballs. He was like a child with a brand-new toy.

Beyond the Spawn’s warrens the cavern opened wider. A small pier stretched into a chthonic lake and about ninety feet out, a light beckoned. Lilia, whose new armor granted her the ability to fly, started towards it, and, of course, something in the lake sensed our presence and woke up. Of all the things we’ve seen so far, and we’ve seen some gruesome ones, this was the ugliest. Whatever it was, it also proved difficult to kill, unsurprisingly. We did eventually wear it down, though Lilia took quite a beating, and it finally sank below the surface.

Lilia then retrieved the sword and it proved to be as beautiful as all the legends said, though she keeps complaining that it won't stop singing. We’ve all taken turns admiring it as we have taken a moment to rest and eat a ration or two before beginning our return journey upwards. As I sit jotting notes, I can’t help but wonder what’s next. More fool me.

It’s been a long day. My body aches in many places, making it hard to meditate to bring order to my thoughts, so I set pen to paper instead. Majenko is currently curled up next to my knee and sleeping peacefully. Lately, he’s been sticking close to me when encamped and as far away from the Nidalese as possible. They seem to regard his species as some sort of delicacy.

The pall that hangs over Scarwall turns night into black ink. Lilia wisely suggested that we fall back outside for the night; no one wanted to sleep inside. We’re safe in Sial’s keep, but I feel no comfort in that either. We’ve been fighting undead all day, and being waited upon by them at night is unnerving. So far in Scarwall we’ve battled orcs, skeletons, minotaurs (twice), huge undead monsters made of corpses, undead knights, some “weird kind of smokey things that came out of the walls”, and a dragon. That was just today, and we’re not much closer to what we seek.

After our second run-in with the minotaurs I received a small lecture from Lilia about staying further back from the front line (something about being squishy), so I didn’t really get to see the weird smokey things, but they were described them to me as such. We investigated the courtyard after that and ran into the dragon. Thankfully, I’m agile enough to avoid the breath weapons most of the time and wasn’t caught in this one. Curiously, this dragon did not seem as frightening as the last one we fought, even after killing Imp and severely wounding several of the others. Perhaps I was simply too angry to be frightened. We didn’t lose Imp, thankfully, because of the others’ excellent spellwork. Destrel’s comment afterwards (“I’m so making a dress out of his hide.”) conjured some rather evocative images which amused me for a while. I wondered where she’d find a tailor – Absalom, possibly.

There was a perceptible change in the aura of the place as the dragon died. It’s possible, then, that it was one of the four anchors protecting the sword which means we’ve only three left. That’s an encouraging thought, but how long it takes to find the others, we can’t know. Still, in spite of what shadows remain about Scarwall, we resolve to carry on.

It’s intriguing how the mind works when one faces the possibility of death at every turn. Small details jump out at odd times. For instance, I’ve noticed that lately the humans seem to want to add a few superfluous syllables to my name. I’m not sure what they mean by it. Perhaps it just sounds good to them. Sionananan. It seems to keep them amused so I’ve decided to leave them to it.

Majenko is now snoring. He sounds like an asthmatic cat. Since my candle is burning low, I shall retire to meditation for now.

As we approached the barbican overlooking the bridge it was easy to spot the guards. Destrel drew attention to herself by shooting a couple of them, and they returned fire, wounding her quite severely. Our new wizard companion, Nico, dropped a neat fireball spell right in the middle of them. I was impressed and slightly jealous. I must consider purchasing a wand of fireball; it could be useful - or at least amusing. I told Majenko to flee (not that he needed the direction) and took aim at another orc, hitting him, but barely. Lilia ran towards the keep in hopes of catching a few of them on the ground, as did Asirya, who simply climbed the walls. Now we know who benefited from the arachnid’s cloak. Her chains did nothing to lessen her resemblance to a demented spider, and I haven’t decided yet which is creepier. Sial took to the cover of the trees, and, seeing the wisdom in it, I followed shortly after, moving ahead of him to skirt the walls. I didn’t get to help much beyond my puny shot, though, because the others took care of most of the orcs, and the last one standing was one that was best left to the paladins.

We stood at the gate of the bridge and looked across the lake at Scarwall, where the last battle between Kazavon and Mandravius, the man who slew him, was fought. The object of our journey is to recover the sword that had slain the dragon and use it to defeat Ileosa. Scarwall is larger than imagined and an appalling sense of foreboding and revulsion hangs over the place. As we stepped onto the bridge the impending sense of evil deepened. Lilia looked almost physically ill; Imperia wasn’t much better, and Adhemar confirmed that the unhallow spell cast upon the place was quite powerful. Soon after we started our trek across the bridge, I heard the gates and portcullises of the castle begin to open. We began to hear an echoing rumble of marching feet. The fog and the echoes made it impossible to gauge how many there were, but Adhemar recognized that they were skeletons accompanied by some sort of skeletal beast. I heard Majenko’s “Oh, crap!” and waved him away. I assume he found cover behind one of the hideous gargoyle statues that lined the bridge. Even our friends from Nidal seemed to be discomfited. By the time we finished plowing through the skeletons, I could hear the gates closing. We were stuck outside.

Eventually we made it to the gates only to be fired upon from arrow-slits in the walls above us. Again, Asirya climbed the walls and made our attackers rather miserable. Destrel’s sniping helped greatly, but Sial’s dimension door was put to better use. Unfortunately, he could take only a few of us with him, and it made more sense to take those who would be most useful in a fight. The rest of us had to wait for the others to loose the chains and re-open the gates. Once that was accomplished, we rushed inside hoping to rejoin the others.

The corridors were full of corpses of those who had fallen here in the last battle. We stepped more carefully then, dreading even to step on one. That probably saved us. We’ve dealt with many undead in the course of this quest, but we’ve never had to deal with one great mound of them rising up to meet us. It was disturbing in too many ways, especially when it attacked, and I was quite grateful to see the rest of our companions join us. Fortunately, the fight here was not long, and we were finally able to stand and take stock for a few minutes before venturing to other rooms. Lilia and Nico discovered something as they scouted the next room, or at least it sounded like it. All I remember is that Lilia took a stunning set of armor from it. We’ve stopped for now to rest a moment, though I sense that we all feel anxious to complete our errand as soon as possible. This place seems to affect even our souls.

Our "friends" from Nidal claim that the dragon's teeth are a holy relic of their god, Zon Kuthon, which would explain their eagerness to assist us. After seeing some of the things he's capable of, I would not venture to refuse their aid, though I don't trust them as far as I could throw them. I'm sure they feel the same about us.

We must enter the fortress of Scarwall to retrieve an item which should help us defeat the Queen. If we are successful we will join the armies now mustering. If we do not succeed we will most certainly die here. I only hope we are able to get some kind of message to Orisini and Kalepopolis in either case.

We are no longer tshamek. The Lyrune-Quah Truthspeaker was an inquisitive sort, and peppered poor Adhemar with questions throughout our trek to the territory of Cindermaw. Adhemar answered them all with his usual tact and dignity and unending reserve of patience.

Most of the encounters punctuating our journey through the Cinderlands were the typical types you’d expect in the wild. The exception was a gargoyle attack which confirmed our belief that Korvosa has not forgotten us. Carved into their "skin" were our likenesses. It was a grim reminder of the dangers we left behind.

Lilia’s ordeal with Cindermaw was impressive – frightening, but impressive. I don’t believe Adhemar ever imagined he’d be joining her too, but he did. Both survived and did so admirably. I wish the Elders could see humans in times like this. Our people have always been wary of other races, but the slave trade and other organized interests, especially the Aspis Consortium, have made the tribe wary of humans from other lands. My friends have stood beside me through many dire situations now, and have always proved themselves. I do not forget the slavers who murdered my sister, but I have learned not to paint all humans with the same brush.

The Truthspeaker’s words could not be doubted, but we still faced much opposition among the Sklar-Quah when we returned to their encampment. We were accepted as Shoanti with some reservation, but were denied the information we sought, nor were we successful in entreating the Sun Shaman to reconsider the Shoanti demands for war against Korvosa. Lilia learned from one of their Burn-Riders that the tribe may consider us Shoanti, but that didn’t mean we were Sklar-Quah. Of course, we realized that becoming Sklar-Quah meant yet another test, and, in spite of our reservations, requested permission from the Sun Shaman to undertake it.

It was called the Test of the Totem and was a grueling challenge requiring that we keep upright a set of pillars over a succession of three days. There would be one pillar for each of us and after twenty-four hours we were required to climb one more level, dragging the pillars with us, and raise them up again on the higher ledge of what the Sklar-Quah have named Bolt Rock. Needless to say, it seemed almost senseless to try, but we were determined. Our “friend” Krujon was absolutely incensed at our being allowed to even attempt it. The days dragged on and seemed to blend together as our fatigue gave way to exhaustion. I remember a vision, though it’s not so clear to me now as it was then, that gave me hope and confirmed for me that my decisions have been the right ones. It gave me a sense of peace I hadn’t felt since leaving Kibwe to follow my sister. Perhaps the others saw the same things I did, perhaps not, but we all felt our sense of purpose renewed. Then, as usual, something else came up.

Adhemar spotted them long before we did. A parched cry came from his mouth as he tried to point. “Land shark!” I think Lilia called them bulettes. Well, they were nasty, whatever you wanted to call them, and we were in no fit shape for fighting. Had Destrel not called for Horkin, things may have gone differently, but we did manage to defeat them. I was so exhausted that all events seemed mostly a blur.

The whole tribe greeted us that morning to welcome us as Sklar-Quah. There were no longer any dissenters among them. The Sun Shaman agreed to give us the information we sought and left then to commune with his ancestors in order to do so, wishing us well. Gratefully, we accepted breakfast and trudged to our yurt to sleep.

The Red Mantis attacked as we slept. It didn’t take long to discern who sent them and with whom they traveled. Accompanying the assassins of the Mask were gargoyles similar to those we’d encountered on our journey to Cindermaw, and one man whom we knew only by description, the Cinderlander. All we knew of him was that he made a career of killing Shoanti which now included us. Krujon took the attack personally and nearly died defending his tribe from the depredations of that ilk. It appears we’ve attracted more attention that I’d suspected. Just as we thought the battle was drawing to a close, however, someone else showed up. She called herself Cinnabar and entreated all the Shoanti to give us up to her. The tribe refused. Lilia made rather short work of her, actually, just as the Sun Shaman was returning. We have stopped again to clean ourselves up and rest shortly before meeting with him. I’ve taken advantage of the quiet to record these thoughts, and as I finish I realize Majenko appears to have disappeared for the moment. I must go make sure he’s not irritating someone.

It was a joy to receive your recent letter, and it is good to hear that you have heard news of your brother. I hope your journey to Irrisen is peaceful and that you may find him well.

We have finally left Korvosa. I tried to get a message to you before this, hoping you would receive it before you leave Magnimar, but that is impossible now. I must credit our friend, Vencarlo, for his assistance in our flight. He has provided food and shelter and we have been given a lead to aid in our affairs with the queen. Indeed he has given us much more than that; I am his heir, of a sort. Should we ever make it back to Korvosa, I have agreed to carry out a duty which seems to have fallen to me solely through fate. I shall be able to tell you more of it when we next meet in person.

We have traveled to the Cinderlands with a new guide, Trinia Sabor (none other than the “outlaw” we helped to hide), and have become company of the Shoanti. It seems that our search for information is bound in a succession of quests to be completed before we can learn what we really need to know. The Shoanti are a complex people with tribal customs more complex than most of those in Mwangi (though we certainly have our moments). Thousand Bones, a Shoanti of the Skoan-Quah we assisted in Korvosa has assented to aid in our search for truth and has provided us with guides. They have brought us to an Acropolis of ancient age. Even the Elders would marvel to see it, although, truthfully, I have had enough of the place.

The Acropolis is known by our Shoanti guides of the Skoan-Quah to house an artifact we must find to negotiate with another tribe, the Lyrune-Quah. We managed to make it into the Acropolis ahead of an emberstorm, but found that quite a few others had, too. Most notable among them were the Red Mantis assassins who ambushed us. Whether they were lying in wait for us or someone else or whether they simply decided to ambush whoever came into the room, I do not know. We were fortunate in that our fight attracted others who aided us, but not so fortunate that it awoke something large and foul that lurked within the pits just outside the door. It attacked me first, and I found myself grabbed and hoisted into the air as it began squeezing the breath out of me. I didn’t notice the arrival of Krujon, a Sklar-Quah warrior with whom we’d had prior acquaintance, until I heard his booming voice bellowing as he attacked the thing that grabbed me. He seemed quite cheerful about it. Ademar’s bodyguard, Imperia, was grabbed, too, as was Krujon who seemed unfazed and simply broke the creature’s grasp time and again. Finally it dropped me, but the creepiness only got worse as I landed and realized I was standing on its eyeball. There are no suitable elven words to describe “the yuck factor”, as Majenko calls the queasiness and terror felt upon seeing it, nor would they have been sufficient in this case. I realized the colossal size of the creature who yet sleeps underneath this Temple. We really should just leave before it wakes again or before Krujon decides to attack it simply because he’s bored.

The Shadowcount who assisted us is named Sial, and though his nature completely repulses her, Lilia has gone to speak with him. In the meantime I have taken the liberty of finding a comfortable corner in which to sit and write. Though Adhemar has done his best to heal my more serious wounds, my ribs still ache terribly and the saber scars are more than evident. We have yet to find the object for whence we came; hopefully, we will find it quickly and leave. We then have to negotiate with the Lyrune-Quah and possibly a few others before we are able to obtain the knowledge we seek.

I shall try to find a way to send this to your father in Absalom in hopes that he may get it to you. Good luck in your endeavor to find your brother. I hope one day that we shall all meet together and celebrate life, love, and friendship.

May fair winds be always behind you.
Yours,
Sionan

There is a moon tonight. The light of it reflects off the surface of the narrows that divide Korvosa; here and there light glints off their armor as the Gray Maidens patrol the walls and the stone bridge, enforcing separation of Old Korvosa from those who have not been rejected by the Queen. Scream has kindly offered us lodging in his home tonight in gratitude for his freedom. I have taken advantage of the docks to meditate alone in the open air but I can find no peace, even in moonlight. I almost envy the humans’ ability to sleep.

I sit tonight with a letter written by my beloved. She is laying into port in Magnimar for a week and heading north to the land of the Linnorm Kings following rumors of her brother. I wish I were there with her, yet after all the events of the day I wonder if I still deserve her. Much has happened since our departure from the peninsula.

Our search for Orisini and the seneschal led us to the house of Salvatore Scream, an artist of considerable repute, and led to our acquaintance with a woman named Laori, a singularly strange individual who was both a cleric of Zon-Kuthon and devoted fan of Scream’s works. Scream had apparently been taken captive by Pilts Swastel, the self-styled, Emperor of Old Korvosa. Laori offered to help us free him. Since he was our best link for information of those we sought, we agreed, though warily. Laori seemed slightly too… perky.

Pilts was known to have favored a sport he created and his hand-picked team reputedly never lost. We decided to try to beat Pilts at his own game and agreed to play if, upon winning, we were allowed to speak to Scream. “Blood Pig” is best described as a brawl with pigs added, or at least it was the way we played it. Majenko’s play-by-play didn’t help, though he insists that he was only trying to keep me from getting hit. I suppose, “Damn, that gnome is mental” was meant to have been taken as a warning.

We did win, though at a high cost. The aforementioned gnome, a barbarian with limited intellectual capacity according to Majenko, had given Adhemar the brunt of his attack. Adhemar and Destrel nearly died in that arena. Near the end of the game, though I knew both were finally stable, I vented my anger on the gnome. Shamefully. He was unarmed and down, unable to defend himself, and I hit him with every ounce of strength I had. Then I tossed him to the wolverine below.

After we won the game, we still had decide how best to deal with Pilts. We were led below and took our opportunity at a glance from Lilia. I used my advantage to strike while he was distracted, and Laori finished him, attacking just after I hit him. His retinue fled. We then rescued Pilts’s various captives: one Ezekiel Morva, a wizard hailing from Absalom, and his servant, and Salvatore Scream. It was Morva who had brought my letter from Farrellon, and he and his servant accompanied us to Scream’s lodgings here on the waterfront.

Now that hours have passed I feel guilty for having attacked the gnome. It is this thought that gives me grief. I come again to wonder why I’ve remained in Korvosa, and tonight perhaps I’ve been able to begin to understand. My quest for vengeance ended with the death of an old man. In the end it accomplished nothing of significance to Korvosa, but it awakened a new sense of purpose in me. What that complete purpose is still eludes me, but I know this: I cannot abandon my companions after all we’ve accomplished. I cannot allow the voiceless of Korvosa to suffer the injustice of a maddened Queen.

A few days after our capture and execution of that crazy elf, a messenger from Commander Kroft came to us just as we were finishing our morning meal and finalizing our plans to confront Davaulus. (Tace has generously given us a private dining room lately and it has been quite useful to hide from prying eyes.) Our messenger turned out to be a companion, Inwë Melwasúl – a sorceror. Kroft apparently sent her to join us and offer aid as necessary. Majenko seemed to be intrigued by her. Inwë agreed readily to our plans and we set off to the Hospice.

We didn’t expect a warm welcome and got even less. Though we managed to subdue the Gray Maidens and even Davaulus in relatively short order, we felt instinctively that the mystery of the plague lay deeper than we previously suspected. Literally, deeper, it seemed. Even in searching Davaulas’s notes, we could not discern much more of the disease’s origins; however, we soon found more answers. Below the main hospice were more tunnels, inhabited mainly by priests of Urgathoa, goddess of disease and decay. We ran into Rolth here as well, but the main surprise was yet to come. We had discovered a full temple of Urgathoa, not just a lab dedicated to the spread of disease. It was here, we found, that the disease itself was being “manufactured”. Vats of Veil-tainted liquid dominated the largest room, which also happened to contain one of Urgathoa’s most dedicated priestesses. She didn’t appreciate our intrusion.

As she prepared to make a stand against us, Lady Andaisin, or so she called herself, taunted us, implicating the involvement of the Queen herself in the plan to spread Blood Veil. Of course this did not go over well with my colleagues. We defeated Andaisin in life and undeath and yet were no closer to finding a cure. We sent Majenko off to deliver messages to Kroft and to Dhatri. It was Grau who led the detachment of the Guard to our aid, and well it was, since we were able with his help to persuade the few Varisians who happened to be immune to the disease to give blood to aid in a cure. Only then did we have a chance to start to undo the damage done by the scourge.

They call us heroes now. We’ve been given gifts, awards, feasts, and an official proclamation from the Queen. Lilia and Destrel each received well-deserved promotions, and the rest of us have been officially deputized as sergeants of the Korvosan Guard. Majenko is eating up the attention. In spite of the accolades, however, we tread and speak carefully. The Queen knows we are aware of her plans for genocide, but can, of course, do nothing overtly to harm the “Saviors of the City”. I believe it is only a matter of time before she acts against us.

The ship had broken asunder and lay on the bottom of the river in two sections. The bow leaned heavily upon a rock; the stern butted up against a similar outcropping. I noticed a large hole in the side. It would be large enough for us to fit through, at least. We entered what remained of the bow first, and even my first impression of the interior told me the situation was strange. I expected to find bodies and personal effects of the sailors, food and drink… but there was none of this. We did manage to find six rather ghastly eels in the galley but could have done without them.

After dispatching the eels we concluded our short tour of the bow of the ship and departed to check the stern. We dispatched a sea hag who had taken up residence along with a shark or two. Finally we were alone on the ship and could search for our answers in peace. We found one body – a physician, possibly, since he wore the same type of mask. We also found a large number of intricate darkwood coffers, most of them empty. There were two un-opened ones that we took with us. We also took with us the body of the physician. Lilia and Adhemar seemed quite ill at ease and rather insistent that we take it along, too. So, we lugged it to the surface with everything else. I wanted to know what was going on, but kept my mouth shut until we made it to Field Marshal Kroft’s office.

She was escorting a woman out as we were entering and briefly mentioned our names and where to find us as she bid the woman goodbye. I reckoned the woman would be part of our next job. As we revealed our grisly cargo to Kroft she became gravely silent. In addition to various other documents one of the coffers contained a title deed to the ship naming R. Davaulus as the owner. The other coffer contained a rat and some coins; apparently this would be where the plague has its origins. Kroft threw the documents into the fire, assumed custody of the body, and let us know in no uncertain terms that we were to speak of this to no one. We were on our own. Nothing had happened.

That night I meditated longer than usual to clear my head for the morning. It didn’t really help. My mind is still struggling to understand a motive, and not just the superficial one of spreading an epidemic. I wonder sometimes about the sheer malice people direct at other people. It makes no sense.

That morning we were met at breakfast by the woman Kroft had instructed. Deyanira Mirukova pleaded with us to find her younger brother, Ruan, a gifted musician. According to her Ruan had been invited to perform at a party at Carowyn Manor and had not returned. Her attempts to ask at the Manor itself had gone unheeded; the place had seemed deserted.

This time Majenko and the hippogriff were able to join us and Majenko delighted in circling the larger beast just to show off. We came to the Manor and knocked, of course. No answer. I got tired of waiting and picked the lock – it wasn’t hard. We gazed down the hallway into a ballroom full of zombies. Dancing ones. I suppressed my laughter; the situation wasn’t really that funny. It was well we had a priest with us. Thanks to him most of the undead threat was abated before it became a problem, because we soon had another in the form of a quite live but completely maniacal elf. She was a piece of work. Her favorite trick was to drink a potion of invisibility and try to sneak around us. Right. We have a pseudodragon. After watching us chase her ineffectively for a few minutes, Majenko took her on himself. I could hear his gleeful “I got her!” ringing through my head just before I saw him plummet past the window with maximum hilarity as he got caught as she fell. She was decidedly unco-operative and more than a little strange, giving us little more than her name. I shrugged. We left Majenko and the hippogriff to look after her as we finished a search of the area, hoping against hope that perhaps Ruan may be hiding nearby.

Though we did find one person hiding in the cellar, unfortunately it wasn’t Ruan. In fact it was Ausio Carowyn, the owner of the mansion, who barricaded himself in a small nook and refused our overtures until I got bored and impatient and picked the lock.

The situations were unsettling me and the maniac’s cryptic sentences were no help. We knew after our meeting with Kroft that something had to be done with her here and now. Bringing her to the citadel was no option; we decided instead to meet at the very place we’d started and use our sanctuary at Zellara’s to hide her there.

I decided to find Vencarolo Orisini. I’d been harboring a few suspicions since we met with him last and something told me it would be best to speak with him alone. Alas, I could get no further than the docks. The Gray Maidens and the guard had sealed off the bridges. Old Korvosa was now under quarantine. I hastened to the home of Zellara to warn the others.

When I arrived Destrel was showing her violent side and getting the jester to speak. Lilia looked the other way but appeared uncomfortable. It certainly unnerved me. It was enough for Jolistina to spill what she knew. My apprehension and disgust grew the more she talked. Thankfully, Ruan was taken alive, but for how long and for what purpose, she didn’t say. It was enough to know that it had been Rolth, the necromancer, who was involved and the underpinnings of a bizarre plot began to emerge. As she talked we knew she was beyond saving; it would be too dangerous to the city to allow her to survive. It was Lilia who delivered the coup-de-grace, and I know that in her heart she suffered for it. Tomorrow may be a new day, but what solace we can find in it, I cannot imagine.

The city is still gripped by sickness. The doctors are adamant that progress against the disease is being made, but if it is, it's simply not evident. Every day I'm thankful that I've been able to prevent the sickness from going further. Being in the employ of the the city Guard has certainly not been detrimental in that regard though it has provoked a few mild insults, especially when we showed up to question Vendra Loaggri about her wares. Capturing her created an interesting diversion for a moment or two and I must praise Majenko for his excellent sting. I must remember to buy him some fish.

Though we investigated the death of a were-rat at the behest of one of his relatives and not under the auspices of the Guard, it would appear that our ties with Guard may have marginally helped in our dealings with them. That and our silver-tongued Sargeant who managed to talk the group down. We wanted only their leader. I thought we were quite dead for a few minutes, especially when their leader appeared, shouted at us for a few minutes, then gave the order to kill us, and left the room. They appear to mistrust their "leader's" extremism, however. It was the strangest "fight" in which I've ever been involved. We watched as they beat on their shields, yelling and screaming, yet all the while giving us a clear path as they retreated.

Griggiz (I can only approximate the sound of his name) was infuriated. He can do no more harm to the city. In gratitude our contact among the were-rats gave us information about the ship that came into port a few nights ago and I suddenly remembered what the yellow light meant. I hope that now we may find some answers.