journal.wiredreflexes.com

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.

4th day, 2nd ride, April, 1372 DR

Rain had come and I was feeling much better, even though my body was aching and painful all over from the fight with the Zhentarim a few days back and that icy blast coming from that strange, infernal chest in Dialan’s tomb.

We had made camp in an old, overgrown hunter’s lodge. A young, sapling tree had been growing out from the lodge’s ground and had pushed its way through the roof, allowing rain to pour in but allowing us enough space to stay dry and start a comfortable fire.

Taking Abel’s advice, Ebon came to talk to me about possibly doing something to cure the ailment that had been inflicted upon him during his bout of greedy desecration. I told him that I didn’t know whether Abaddon would grant me the power to undo what that curse had done to him. That it wasn’t up to me to decide and that I couldn’t possibly predict the outcome of such an exercise. I told him that I would have to take some time to study the weather, to look for signs of Abaddon’s intention with Ebon. I also told him that it would mean he would be indebted to Abaddon for the rest of his life, and that if it pleased Abaddon, what he would bestowed upon Ebon could also be taken away from him.

Abaddon certainly doesn’t judge the actions of men, but he also doesn’t undo the negative consequences of their actions nor fix their mistakes.

Halfway through the night I was awoken by Abel indicating sounds in the distance. I couldn’t hear anything, but he and Ebon assured me that there were sounds of battle and that it was coming closer. We woke everyone up and I quickly donned my armour and moved outside to get a closer listen. We hear wolves howling and… other sounds that we couldn’t readily identify. I was waiting to get a bead on the direction the battle was taking, trying to determine whether it was coming closer or moving past us, hoping to intercept and take a look. Right when I decided to start moving, a woman appeared out of thin air. She was long and lithe and radiant and beautiful. She was unclothed and her hair was auburn and tangled, but still she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. More beautiful even than Kessla. She beseeched me to help her and her companions against their attackers. She couldn’t tell us who the attackers were, but told us they were wolves but not quite. Thorim then emerged from the lodge, just as the woman sank back into the woods and out of sight.

I made a mistake and told him that a lady of the forest was under attack by werewolves. He charged into the woods towards the battle. I realised at that point that the attack on the dwarves at Eagle’s Eerie some time back could have been purpotrated by werewolves instead of wolves. His cousin was killed in that attack, so his rage had been understood. We quickly followed him and found the battle fairly soon.

Before engaging I asked Abaddon to heal the wounds of his injured son and was suprised at the response I got. I felt rejuvenated and ten times better from one moment to the next. I felt his favour coursing through my and I banged my hammer to my shield, igniting it in Abaddon’s light and allowing the sparks that rang off it to protect and shield my body. I engaged the first wolfman I saw, a gnoll I thought at first. Ebon and Thorim killed one. Abel, Roland and Wren incapacitated another and I fought a third. They were attacking a whole host of different creatures. Small women no bigger than my forearms with the wings of butterflies, led by the lady of the forest.

The fight was short and brutal and afterwards the lady of the forest thanked us, but couldn’t tell us more about herself except that she just wanted to keep the forest safe from the invading werewolves. There were more and they had been getting bolder and more numerous, attacking anything in their path. Before she disappeared back into the forest together with those fairies, she gave Abel a token of her esteem. A strange, feathered talisman that could “call forth the power of the oaks,” whatever that meant.

We returned to the lodge and continued our rest.