Dialan’s Final Resting Place

3rd day, 2nd ride, April, 1372 DR

Opening the door to the tomb turned out not to be so difficult. We found a spacious room beyond filled with bookcases that were so old they were barely standing. Some had collapsed underneath the weight of the decaying books. The books were brittle and decomposing, much like the journal we had found previously. All were written in the same, incomprehensible language that Abaddon allowed me to comprehend for a few short hours the previous evening.

A stone slab held a huge, stunningly beautiful map of the great desert to the west. Markings along the mountainous western edge of the desert, roughly where we were located, were scribbled in the same language and were probably locations where Dialan had been searching for the Nether Scrolls. Roland decided to make a replica of the map, scaled down in size.

I was transfixed by the map. I have always liked maps for reasons I can’t quite comprehend. From simple travel maps to intricate, tactical maps used by generals to direct armies and supply lines. I asked Roland that if he were to ever want to get rid of the replica that he’d consider me as a first buyer. He agreed.

As beautiful as the map was, it didn’t allow us any further insight into the life of Dialan and neither did any of the books. There were two more doors leading to other parts of the tomb, which were both trapped in a way we could easily avoid. One lead to a treasure chamber holding three chests. I opened one of them and got hit by a wave of ice cold air that knocked me off my feet and gave me cramps down my spine so badly I thought I was going to break my own back. I was chilled so badly that I decided to exit the cold tomb and move back into the sun to warm up, but not before seeing that the chest held three golden bars, undoubtedly worth a lot of money.

In my absence, the two other chests, also trapped, were opened and they revealed some finely crafted daggers and a strange orb-like magical device. While the last two caught the interest of my companions, most notably Ebon and Abel, I was thinking about those golden bars. I could support myself well with those and I could focus myself fully on my quest to find Heron.

The other door in the tomb was opened as well and lead to the sarcophagus of Dialan. Ebon looted the body of the old alchemist and paid for it in a most peculiar way. When he emerged from the tomb his hair was thinner, his eyes more weary and he had lost the spring in his step. It was obvious that whatever had hit him was meant as punishment for disturbing the dead.

We decided that with Ebon’s foolish mistake, it was time to leave that place. It wouldn’t be long before the Zhents would show up there and take command and control of the excavation once again. We decided to head straight for Dagger Falls. We had prevented a magical device of unknown origins to fall into the hands of the Zhentarim. That orbs were probably the sole purpose for their excavation, unless they were looking for more information on the failed research Dialan had conducted into the Nether Scrolls. We thought it would be prudent to report this to the militia. It would then probably also be a good time to leave.

We headed back into the forest once again.

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